Tom Douglas Box Set 2

by Rachel Abbott

  The spasm lasted no more than seconds but left her weak, her throat burning with acid. From her knees Maggie fell sideways onto her hip and rested her head against the cool wall tiles. Her weakened body was no longer able to hold back the horror that was pressing down on her. She lifted one leg and kicked the bathroom door firmly shut.

  How had this happened to her? What had she done wrong?

  She could no longer ignore what Tom Douglas had told her and had to face reality. They were looking for Michael Alexander. She knew who he was and had said nothing. She hadn’t known what to say. She had tried more than once to open her mouth, but the words had drained away.

  She rested her head on her bent knees and gave in to sobs that made her ribs ache.

  Gradually the tears subsided. Maggie felt drained. She tried to push herself up from the floor, but the effort was almost too much. She got first to her knees, and then used the washbasin to pull herself upright. Using one hand against the wall for support, she made her way back into the bedroom and was staggered to find it was dark outside. A cold cup of tea was sitting by the bed.

  She climbed onto the bed, crawled under the covers, and finally exhaustion won the battle.

  The house was silent when Maggie woke up. The children must have gone to bed, and there was no light creeping under the door, suggesting Suzy was no longer up either. What time was it? She rolled onto her side and pressed the button on her mobile. It was after midnight. For a moment, the room was lit by the glow from her phone, and Maggie rolled over onto her other side as the light went out.

  In that fraction of a second, she had seen something that set every nerve ending on fire. There was a man – there, in her room, sitting in the chair by the window.

  The room was black again now and she could see nothing. Maybe she was wrong. It could have been a shadow. But she knew it wasn’t. It was him. For the first time she was scared of her own husband.

  Her body was rigid, and of course he knew she was awake – he had seen her check the time. Was he going to speak?

  He couldn’t know she had seen him, though. It was a flicker in time. Should she pretend to go back to sleep?

  She heard movement – a slight shuffle, but not enough to indicate he was standing up. He was adjusting his position. Then there was a click, and the small reading lamp next to the chair came on. As the lamp rocked slightly, light and dark shapes moved around the room swinging towards her and away again as if trying to capture her. But Maggie’s eyes were glued to his face, one side brightly lit by the yellow glow of the lamp light, the other in deep shadow.

  He didn’t speak; Maggie didn’t move.

  His voice, when it came, was quiet. ‘Shall I come to bed?’

  Maggie’s body jerked in response, and she quickly sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as if to protect herself. She couldn’t answer.

  ‘The police were here,’ she said.

  ‘That was inevitable. What did you tell them.’

  Maggie looked at her husband and shook her head.

  He smiled and leaned forward. ‘I have a plan, Maggie. A plan that will save us all. But I need your help.’

  Duncan sounded eager, excited almost. For a moment it felt like old times, with him coming up with a plan for a holiday or a day out. She thought back to the night before and his apparent indifference to killing the wounded girl. She had so many questions for him but somehow there was no point asking them. He would just lie. She knew that now.

  He seemed to guess what she was thinking.

  ‘I had nothing to do with the murder of those two women last week, you know.’ Duncan’s voice had an edge of irritation. ‘Samil wanted revenge. On me. He wanted to punish me for not fulfilling my part of the bargain twelve years ago. I never agreed to kill his stepmother, Maggie. I need you to believe that. It would have been murder in cold blood, and I had nothing against the woman. I didn’t think he meant it. How he knew I was back in Manchester, or about my connection to William, I really don’t know. But I don’t suppose I’ll be able to ask him that now.’

  Duncan paused, but Maggie made no response. She wanted him out of her room, out of her house, but she didn’t know what would happen if she tried to insist.

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed. ‘They killed the first two to scare me – and you. The third victim was going to be you, if I didn’t do as they asked, which was to kill Leo in front of you. She apparently looked like you. The idea was to make it even more painful for you, although by the time we saw her, she was barely recognisable. They thought that would be the end of my life, because you would never want me near you again. But I didn’t do it, Maggie, so why are you so cold with me?’

  Maggie needed some thinking time. She risked a question, not really caring about the answer.

  ‘So where were you when the woman was killed last Wednesday – the one whose picture was on your phone – because I know you’d finished your job long before you had to pick the children up?’

  Duncan walked to the bed and sat down beside her. He reached out to hold her hand, but she jerked away from him.

  He sighed. ‘I went to buy you some flowers. I knew there were problems ahead, and I wanted you to know how much I love you.’

  She looked at him. There had been no flowers.

  ‘Stupid fucking woman in front of me in the shop couldn’t make her mind up, so I ran out of time. I didn’t want to be late for the kids.’

  Maggie had no words left. Who was this man?

  Duncan reached out a hand to stroke her hair, winding it around his fingers. She shivered.

  ‘Sorry about the flowers,’ he said, pulling her head back to lay bare her throat.

  She flinched as she felt his lips touch her flesh.

  67

  Tom felt better that evening after a couple of hours’ sleep, and he and Becky had both returned to the incident room at around the same time. The capture of Adam Mellor and Ben Coleman had given everybody a huge boost twenty-four hours ago, but now the adrenaline rush had gone there was a sense of deflation in the room. The fact that Tom believed there was a third man out there wasn’t for the moment creating the buzz that it should have done.

  Tom knew there were enough people in the team sorting through every scrap of evidence to track down Michael Alexander and he wasn’t really adding anything.

  ‘I’m going back to the hospital,’ he said to Becky. ‘Don’t hang about for too long – it’s probably better to make an early start tomorrow.’

  Becky shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. I got about four hours’ sleep earlier, so I’m okay. You go – see how Leo’s doing.’

  Tom nodded his thanks and headed for the door, turning as he went. ‘Call me if there’s anything at all. Seriously, Becky. I want to know straight away.’

  He strode out of the building towards his car, head down against a biting wind, and the frustration swept through him again. He knew he was missing something, but it wouldn’t come to him. The streets of Manchester were quiet. Maybe the cold was keeping everybody indoors, or perhaps it was later than he thought. Still, he had been told at the hospital that he could call in any time. Leo’s operation had gone well, but she was still in an ICU cubicle. As long as he didn’t disturb either her or anybody else, he knew they would let him sit with her for a while.

  Arriving at the hospital, he walked head down, hands in pockets down the quiet corridors of the sleeping building, passing nurses and other staff going briskly about their business.

  ‘Tom?’

  He lifted his head at a voice he recognised and smiled. ‘Louisa. It’s good to see you,’ he said, meaning every word. She looked exhausted, though, and he realised that her job must be every bit as demanding as his own.

  ‘I hear the operation on Leo’s arm went well,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. I think your girlfriend will be out of ICU soon and on the road to recovery. I’m pleased for you both. Sorry, Tom, I need to go. A patient.’ She gave him a tired but gentle smi
le.

  ‘I…’ he started, but she didn’t hear him. ‘Bugger,’ he muttered to her retreating back.

  Leo was asleep when he got to her cubicle. Her arm was bandaged, but the skin on her face looked a much healthier shade. He decided to stay for a while. It was peaceful, and maybe he could get his thoughts together.

  He hadn’t intended to doze off, sitting upright in a not particularly comfortable hospital chair, but that was what happened, and he had no idea how long he slept. When he eventually surfaced, Leo was awake and watching him.

  ‘Hi, sleepy head,’ she said, her voice still hoarse from the ordeal of the last few days. ‘Thanks for coming to see me.’

  ‘You couldn’t keep me away,’ he said, reaching over to stroke her good arm.

  They talked in little more than whispers about anything and everything. Everything, that is, except the last few days. That would need time, and it would have to be on Leo’s terms. Tom knew how she had been taken and where she had been kept. The police had the perpetrators in the custody suite, charged and ready to appear before the magistrates in the morning. She didn’t need to say another word until she was ready.

  ‘Tom,’ she whispered, ‘do you think you could do something for me?’

  ‘Of course. What do you need?’

  ‘Before all this happened I was seeing somebody.’

  ‘I know, Julian Richmond. Nice guy.’

  Leo looked startled.

  Tom laughed. ‘No, Leo, I wasn’t having you watched. When you went missing I spoke to him – that’s all.’

  For a moment she looked sad. ‘It really is over for us, isn’t it?’

  Tom nodded. ‘You’ll always be special to me, but we can’t go back. We’d probably slip back into how we used to be because that’s what people do.’

  ‘I know. I fucked it up.’ The regret was clear in Leo’s eyes.

  ‘We both fucked it up. I expected too much, too soon. But what about Julian?’

  ‘I like him. Quite a lot, actually. Since you… well, I’ve been scared, but he seems to get that. His ex-wife was a real cow. Much worse than yours.’

  Tom smiled. Kate was okay. As long as she had plenty of money and could live the life she wanted, she didn’t make too many waves, and they got on fine.

  ‘Do you think you could contact Julian for me?’ Leo asked. ‘He may never want to see me again, but I’d like to know.’

  ‘Of course he’ll want to see you – I’m sure of it – but I’ll call him in the morning. Does he know you’re okay?’

  ‘I don’t know. I got Ellie to log onto my Facebook account for me, and let the small number of friends I have on there know that I’m safe and well, but he’s not big on Facebook I don’t think.’

  Leo carried on chatting, but Tom stopped listening. Facebook. That was it. Bloody Facebook.

  Four cups of black coffee in the space of three hours, and Becky was buzzing. It was one in the morning, and she knew she should go home, but she had a feeling that Michael Alexander – presuming he was still alive – might show his hand.

  Every policeman in Manchester was looking for the guy, but the trouble was, nobody knew what he looked like. They didn’t even know if he was here.

  Becky’s mobile rang as one of the PCs on the team pushed a note under her nose.

  ‘Becky Robinson,’ she said, stifling a yawn and trying to read the note at the same time as listening on her phone.

  ‘Becky, it’s Tom. Where are you?’

  ‘In the incident room. Why?’ Becky scanned the note, her eyes widening slightly.

  ‘Tom—’ But he was already talking.

  ‘What was the name of the woman who was trying to track Michael Alexander through his ex-foster mother?’

  ‘Just a minute,’ she answered, keen to get this question answered so she could tell him her news. ‘Grace Peters.’

  ‘Bollocks. How could I forget that?’ he said.

  ‘Why? Oh, shit. I’ve got it now. Maggie Taylor’s sister! Suzy Peters.’

  ‘Check out Maggie’s full name. If Grace isn’t her middle name, check out everybody else in the family. I’m coming back to the office.’

  ‘I think you’ll want to hear this, too. The only records of Duncan Taylor that we can trace start twelve years ago – at the same time as Michael Alexander disappeared. And there’s something else. I’ll give you two guesses where the Taylors used to live.’

  Tom didn’t need two guesses. Suffolk. Where according to the National Crime Agency’s database four women had been drowned and a symbol carved into their thighs.

  Tom was silent for a moment, and Becky waited. She could almost hear his brain ticking over. ‘I have a feeling Maggie Taylor knows full well who her husband is. I just hope to God she listened to what we told her earlier.’

  The phone went dead in Becky’s hand.

  Ten minutes later the door to the incident room burst open, and Tom marched across to Becky.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘Maggie Taylor – Grace Peters. Same person. She doesn’t use Facebook really. Like I said before, it’s an account set up to nosy at other people’s info. She’s liked a few groups, but nothing else. No posts, and she hasn’t got any privacy settings because there’s actually no information about her.’

  ‘And she was checking on Michael Alexander?’

  ‘According to Stacey Meagan, yes.’

  Tom swivelled a chair and sat down to save Becky from craning to look up at him.

  ‘If Maggie was trying to find out about him, that suggests she didn’t know any of this either until recently.’

  ‘After what we said to her this afternoon, she must be absolutely terrified now. Let’s get her on the phone.’

  Becky picked up her desk phone and punched in the numbers. The phone at the other end rang six times and then went to answerphone. Becky glanced at Tom.

  ‘Try it again. If they’re all asleep we might have woken them up.’

  Becky dialled again, and this time the phone was answered on the fourth ring.

  ‘Hello.’ The voice sounded hesitant.

  ‘Who am I speaking to?’ Becky asked.

  ‘This is Suzy Peters. Can I help you?’

  ‘It’s DI Becky Robinson, Miss Peters. Can I speak to your sister, please?’

  ‘DI Robinson, it’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘I know. I need to speak to her, Suzy. It’s urgent.’

  There was a sigh from the other end of the phone. ‘Give me a moment.’

  Becky heard footsteps and then all was silent. She thought she heard a faint call of ‘Maggie’ but she might have been wrong. The footsteps came back, but the phone wasn’t picked up, and she heard them retreat again. She looked at Tom and pulled a face.

  There was a clatter as if the phone had been dropped and a muttered curse followed by a rustle.

  ‘DI Robinson – Maggie’s not here. I’ve searched the house, and her car’s gone. I’ve no idea where she is.’

  ‘Has your husband arrived yet, Suzy?’ Becky asked, concern for this family giving her voice a clipped tone.

  ‘My husband? I haven’t got a husband. There’s just me and Maggie’s kids here. Why?’

  Becky calmly told Suzy Peters to make sure all the doors were double-locked. They were concerned for Maggie, but they were going to do their best to find her.

  She put the phone down and stared at Tom. ‘Where do we look?’

  ‘Near water, at a guess.’

  68

  The bare branches of black trees bent in the force of the wind. A plastic bag scuttered across the road in front of Maggie’s car; the only sounds were the purr of her engine and the wind whistling through the crack she had left open at the top of her window. She needed fresh, clean air.

  Neither of them spoke except when directions were needed. All Duncan had said when they got in the car was ‘Drive towards Manchester.’ She had no idea where they were going. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him, but he hadn’t left
her any choice.

  Duncan had dragged her off the bed. ‘You’re coming with me. I need your help.’

  ‘Don’t, Duncan. If ever you loved me, don’t make me do something bad. Whatever you’re planning, please don’t involve me.’

  She hadn’t been frightened of him to begin with. This was Duncan - albeit not the same Duncan – and all she had felt at that moment was anger at what he was putting her through.

  ‘I have to involve you. Otherwise my life is finished.’ His mouth was turned down in an ugly line.

  ‘Why do we have to go?’

  ‘I’ll explain on the way. But you either come now, or I take my kids and we disappear forever.’

  She knew he would do it. She could feel his desperation. The first thin fingers of fear started to touch her. But how far was he prepared to go? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t risk him trying to take Josh and Lily. She had to go with him whether she liked it or not.

  The car had been recovered that morning from where she’d been forced to abandon it the night before, and at least Maggie was driving and had some control. She still hadn’t worked out how Duncan expected this to end, but every version of an ending that she dreamt up seemed worse than the last.

  ‘Turn right,’ Duncan said. She realised they were skirting Manchester, and not heading into the centre. Where was he taking her? He wouldn’t tell her, even if she asked, so Maggie decided it was better to say nothing. She didn’t want him to hear the uncertainty in her voice.

  They drove on for another ten minutes in silence. Maggie knew deep down that it was all going to end, one way or another, that night. And before that happened, there was one truth she needed to know. It seemed the whole of their marriage had been built around it, and however the night ended she had to understand one thing