Carys hovered at the threshold, her gaze shifting between Kay and Colin Broadheath.
‘Thank you, Mr Broadheath,’ said Kay. ‘Please don’t leave the building. We may need to talk to you again.’
He nodded, confusion on his face.
‘And, Mr Broadheath? I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this conversation to anyone else at this time.’
‘I understand,’ he said, and hurried away.
Kay turned her attention to Carys. ‘What’s up?’
‘I got a call from Gavin. He’s just taken delivery of Eli Matthews’ full personnel file.’
Kay felt a chill raced down her spine. ‘And?’
‘Bob Rogers was Eli’s manager at Ipswich until eighteen months ago.’
‘Eighteen months ago?’
‘He left Suffolk one month before Eli,’ said Carys.
Kay brushed past Carys, and into the reception area. ‘Where’s Bob Rogers?’
‘Um, if he’s not in his office, he’ll be out the back having a cigarette break,’ said the girl.
Kay pointed at the security door. ‘Buzz me through. Now.’
She led the way down the corridor to Rogers’ office, her mind racing as all the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place.
Why Eli’s transfer from Suffolk to Kent had taken only weeks, whereas it would normally be months before a suitable position could be found.
Why it had been so easy for him to obtain fake licence plates.
Why Eli had been able to obtain a second-hand courier van with very little paperwork.
And why a camera had been found next to Melanie Richards’ body.
‘What sort of sick bastard—’ muttered Carys.
Kay held up a hand as they approached Rogers’ office.
It was empty.
Kay’s eyes fell to the desk. ‘His laptop computer is missing,’ she said.
‘Laptop?’
‘When I was here with Barnes, Rogers had a laptop computer in front of him,’ said Kay.
‘What for? He’s got a computer there anyway.’
‘Exactly.’
Kay’s gaze shifted to the safe.
‘Carys, seal this room as a crime scene. And phone for backup.’
She spun on her heel.
‘Where are you going, Sarge?’
‘To make sure this is the last private cigarette break Bob Rogers has for a long time.’
She ran along the corridor towards the back of the depot, pushed her way through the double doors, and into the sorting office. She ignored the stares of the small group of men and women standing by the racks of shelving, and made her way through the large space to a door set into the back wall.
It opened as she neared, and she slid to a halt.
A woman walked in, her face lined, and her permed white hair stained yellow at the front.
‘Hello, love,’ she said, cheerily. ‘Desperate for a smoke, eh?’
She chuckled, and held open the door for Kay.
‘Thanks,’ she said, and hurried out.
She blinked as the sun slipped out from behind a cloud, and the door slammed shut behind her.
‘Didn’t take you for a smoker.’
She spun around.
Bob Rogers leaned against the wall of the building, and blew a smoke ring into the air.
A lazy smile stole across his face.
‘Where’s Emma, Bob? Where have you put her?’
He shrugged, and then took a long drag on the cigarette before answering.
‘Buggered if I know. Eli was the talent spotter and location scout. I’m just the executive producer.’
Kay stepped closer. ‘Where is she?’
Bob’s hand shot out, and Kay gasped as he took hold of her jacket lapels and swung her round until her back was against the wall, his body against hers. He snatched the cigarette from his lips, and tossed it to the ground.
‘I had a lot of money invested in this,’ he snarled.
Kay clenched her fists, and tried not to gag at his fetid breath.
He shifted his weight, and then ran his hand down her face. ‘You were next, Hunter.’ His eyes hardened, and his hand moved to her jaw, his fingers squeezing hard. ‘You were always next.’
Kay turned her head from side to side, and tried to put some distance between them.
If she could raise her knee—
Rogers sidestepped. ‘No you don’t, you bitch.’
She cried out as his palm met her cheek, and tasted blood.
She blinked away tears, and glared at him. ‘Why d’you do it, Rogers? Those girls did nothing to you.’
His hand moved to her throat, his voice almost a purr. ‘Eli has strange preferences. But, it works to my advantage, so no matter.’
‘What happened in Suffolk?’
His grip tightened, and Kay tried to swallow. Her windpipe contracted, and she coughed.
‘It went wrong, didn’t it?’ she said. ‘Who messed up? You?’
‘I don’t make mistakes.’
‘Oh, so it was Eli, was it?’ She choked out a laugh. ‘How on earth did you end up with that one, eh?’
Rogers’ fingers squeezed tighter, and Kay’s vision blackened at the edges.
Just a bit longer.
Her hands flew to his fingers, and she tried to prise them away from her neck, her breathing ragged.
He bared his teeth, and ground his hips into hers. ‘Go on, bitch. Struggle.’
Kay fought down the urge to vomit, and instead reached out with her thumbs, aiming for his eye sockets.
His grip loosened, and he swept her arms away.
A second slap caused her vision to blur, and then his hands were back, squeezing harder.
Kay gasped out a breath.
‘I don’t think attacking a police officer is going to do your case any good, Rogers.’
He chuckled, kept one hand on her throat, and took a step back. He pointed upwards.
‘Who’s going to believe you?’ he said. ‘Camera’s broken.’
Kay’s gaze flickered to her right.
‘Well,’ she croaked. ‘That’s true. But they might have something to say about it.’
He frowned, his grip loosened, and he looked over his shoulder.
Two uniformed officers stood only a few metres away from him, Tasers drawn.
Kay didn’t hesitate. She lashed out with her foot, her shoe connecting with Rogers’ shin, and he yelped.
The larger of the two officers leapt on him, pinned him against the door, and slipped cuffs over his wrists.
‘Bitch,’ hissed Rogers.
Kay glared at him, then turned to the two uniformed officers and straightened her jacket. ‘Good timing, lads. Thanks.’
SIXTY-FOUR
Ian Barnes peered through the mist that rose from the soaked undergrowth before he lowered his gaze to the phone in his hand and cursed.
The team at the incident room had emailed him the plans, but they were agonisingly small on the smartphone, and he’d taken a wrong turn.
He cast his eyes back across the field to the abandoned construction site, the fear rising once more as he watched the team move methodically along the boundary, their eyes to the ground as they conducted their search.
Barnes stumbled, and swore again.
He regained his balance, and then realised he’d tripped over one of the manhole covers that peppered the land here.
Fifteen minutes ago, they’d located an entrance to the old Victorian sewer system through the basement car park of the skeletal apartment block nearest to the boundary fence, but had been forced back by flooding.
Barnes had stood as water lapped at his shoes, and strained his eyes to see along the darkness of the narrow tunnel.
He’d called out, his voice echoing off the nineteenth-century walls before disappearing into the shadows.
Silence had fallen, and he and the two uniformed officers had waited.
There had been no response.
‘Sir, we can
use the plans to find out if there’s another way in,’ one of the officers had said, a light touch on Barnes’ arms. ‘We’ll keep looking.’
Barnes had appreciated the gesture, and the words, but he heard the unspoken thoughts that passed between the two other men.
The faces of their colleagues spoke volumes as they’d exited the basement and reached the derelict lobby.
Until the water receded, there was no hope of reaching Emma via the construction site.
They had to find another way.
A re-examination of the plans showed the old sewer system had branched out underground like a spider web. In places, the cartographers had simply given up, and dotted lines were marked up with typographic entries to support this theory, stating “unknown”.
So, the team had split up to cover as many of the known routes as possible.
Before the municipal council had approved the construction site, and years before the stubbly undergrowth that now covered the space, an old mill had stood on the site, until the decision had been made to tear it down for fear of trespassers becoming trapped within its maze-like drainage system.
The natural watercourse would have been a godsend for the mill owners, but also a curse, and so the drainage and sewer network had been created to draw excess water from rainfall away from what was now a field, towards the sewer that was under the construction site.
A uniformed sergeant wandered over to him, his jaw set.
Barnes steadied himself. ‘What’s up?’
‘We’ve got another team of experts on their way,’ said the man. ‘They’re bringing some equipment with them. Some sort of GPS stuff that will show exactly where these culverts are buried.’
‘How long will they be?’
‘About half an hour.’
Barnes closed his eyes.
‘I’m sorry, Detective, that’s the best they can do.’
‘I know.’ Barnes opened his eyes, and wiped away tears. ‘I know.’
They both turned at a shout from the other side of the field.
A young PC was waving his arms at them, then turned and beckoned to one of his colleagues who was nearer.
Barnes took off at a sprint, the sergeant’s footsteps close behind.
Oh Christ, what’s he found?
Two other policemen got there before him, and as he stumbled to a halt, they crouched and began to rummage in the undergrowth, their heads almost touching.
‘What is it?’
‘Shh.’ The young officer who had waved them over held up his hand, then blushed. ‘Sorry, sir – I thought I heard a tapping noise.’
Barnes looked to where he pointed.
A steel manhole cover, similar to the one he had tripped over, lay encrusted with weeds and moss within the undergrowth.
He dropped to the floor, where the three uniformed policemen tried to prise it from its housing.
‘Give me your baton,’ he said.
The man next to him held out the telescopic weapon, and Barnes inserted the end into one of the indentations in the steel cover.
The other two policemen realised what he was about to do, and readied themselves to create the additional leverage.
‘On three,’ said Barnes.
He leaned against the weapon, and the edge of the cover shifted on its opposite side.
‘Again,’ said the sergeant, and dropped to his knees on the opposite side. He withdrew his own baton, and slipped it under the edge as it lifted.
A hiss of air escaped, the stench of centuries-old air wafting around them, before they managed to get a grip on the steel cover and slide it to one side.
Barnes peered into the abyss.
A ladder had been fixed to the side of the drain for ease of access all those years ago, its edges frayed with rust and wear.
‘Daddy?’
His heart lurched.
‘Emma?’
He saw her then, peering up at him, her eyes wide as she hung onto the rungs as water lapped at her feet.
‘Emma!’ He reached out his hand, stretching as far as he could. ‘Come on – you can do it. You’re nearly there.’
A sob escaped her lips, and she began to climb, every movement slow and methodical.
Barnes held his breath.
His daughter shivered uncontrollably as she lifted one hand, then the other, then a foot, then the other, and climbed slowly towards him.
Please don’t let her slip!
Her hand brushed against his.
‘Hold my ankles so I don’t fall down there!’ he said to the police officer nearest to him.
He launched himself down the hole, reached out with both hands, and wrapped them around Emma’s wrists.
‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘I’ve got you. Walk up the rungs. I won’t let you go.’
He was dragged up, his stomach and chest scraping against the brick and mortar sides of the drain, and then hands were reaching down, grabbing hold of Emma.
The sergeant pushed him gently away, then took Emma by the arms and lifted her away from the drain.
Her hair clung to her face, a nasty cut behind her ear had started to congeal, and her dress clung to her, ripped and torn, but as Barnes regained his balance and rushed over to her, all he could think was how beautiful his daughter had become in the years since he’d last seen her.
‘You’re safe, my darling,’ he murmured.
‘Daddy,’ she blurted, and fell into his arms.
SIXTY-FIVE
Kay ran a finger over the soft padded dressing that the doctor had taped to her neck, and tried not to think about the bruises that covered her cheekbones.
Earlier, she’d stood in front of the mirror, about to attempt to try to cover them when she’d clenched her jaw and shoved her powder compact back into her bag before returning to the incident room.
A shadow fell over her desk and she glanced up.
‘Detective Sergeant Hunter.’
‘Sir.’
She began to stand, but DCI Larch waved her back down.
‘I wanted to congratulate you on the team’s results,’ he said. ‘Sharp will address the team in full shortly, but he said you’d been injured during the arrest of Bob Rogers.’
‘I’m fine, sir, really,’ she croaked. ‘The doctor says my voice will be back to normal in a couple of days.’
‘You need to be careful, Hunter,’ said DCI Larch. ‘One day your impetuousness will get you into real trouble.’
He turned on his heel.
Barnes wandered over as DCI Larch left the incident room.
‘Had to have the last word, did he?’
‘Something like that.’
He grinned. ‘Well done, Sarge. You got him.’
‘We all did, Ian.’ She smiled. ‘Thanks for sticking by me.’
‘Someone had to.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’ She chuckled, and then grew serious once more. ‘How’s Emma?’
‘Dehydrated. They’re keeping her in hospital for a few days – they were worried about the effect that cold water might have on her, but I spoke to Sarah a moment ago, and apparently Emma’s already given her initial account to Debbie West. She was adamant she’d do her bit to see Matthews and Rogers put away for a long time.’
‘That’s good to hear, Ian.’
‘Yeah. I’ll have a quiet word with her about the bullying, too.’ His voice wavered. ‘I can’t believe how close I came to losing her forever.’
Kay reached out, and placed a hand on his arm. ‘You didn’t lose her though. Don’t play “what if”, okay?’
He blinked away tears, and then glanced over his shoulder. The rest of the team were hanging around Sharp’s office. He turned back to her.
‘Listen, Kay. I made a promise out there today,’ he lowered his eyes. ‘I don’t believe in a god or anything like that. You know what it’s like with this job.’ He shrugged. ‘I promised that if I got her back alive, I’d quit.’
‘What?’
‘I nearly lost her forev
er today. She never wanted me to be a detective, neither did her mother.’
‘Ian, you said yourself that was years ago.’
‘I know, but I want to spend some time with her now. I can’t bear the thought of losing her again.’
Kay let her hand drop. ‘Listen to me. You’re one of the best detectives in this room.’
‘But—’
She held up her hands. ‘Listen,’ she repeated. ‘Have a word with Sharp. Take some time off to be with Emma, but please – think carefully before quitting, okay?’ She forced a smile. ‘Despite what everyone says about you, I kind of like having you around.’
He snorted, and then grew serious once more. ‘Thanks, Sarge.’
They turned as DI Sharp strode into the room.
‘All right, gather round,’ he said, and stood in front of the whiteboard. He checked his watch.
Kay grabbed a seat between Carys and Gavin, and waited while the rest of the team settled.
‘Twenty minutes ago, DCI Larch and I met with Jude Martin from the Crown Prosecution Service and set out our case against Eli Matthews,’ said Sharp. ‘He’s been formally charged with the kidnapping of Emma Thomas, the kidnapping and murder of Melanie Richards, the murder of Beryl Matthews, and charges associated with the death of Guy Nelson. And, thanks to ongoing evidence and witness corroboration by Emma Thomas, we expect Matthews to receive a significant sentence.
‘Bob Rogers has been charged with assault of a police officer, as well as financing the kidnapping of Melanie Richards and Emma Thomas, and perverting the course of justice,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we’ll be adding to that list as our enquiries continue leading up to the court case.’
His eyes met Kay’s, and then fell to her neck. ‘Should you be here?’
‘Doctor said I’m fine, guv.’
‘You sound like you could sing lead vocals in a blues band.’
It raised a chuckle, and Kay was grateful. They all knew how close they had come to having another murder victim, but it wouldn’t do to dwell too closely.
Barnes winked at her from across the room.
‘Did Matthews tell you why he moved to Suffolk?’ asked Carys.
‘I was getting to that,’ said Sharp.
He turned to the whiteboard, and fixed a photograph of Bob Rogers at the top next to Eli Matthews.
‘Felix Peters, the neighbour, told Hunter and Barnes that Eli’s father walked out on Beryl Matthews when Eli was five years old,’ he said. ‘It appears Eli managed to track him down to Ipswich, where he was working at the County Deliveries depot.’
Scared to Death (A Detective Kay Hunter novel) Page 23