by SL Beaumont
They both looked to her with enquiring eyes when they finished. “Obviously it has to have better drums and keyboard and Liam’s dulcet tones, but what do you think?” Andy asked.
“Amazing. How do you make such a sweet song sound so raw and energetic and full of promise?” she said stunned.
James and Andy hi-fived each other.
“That’s exactly the reaction we want,” Andy said pleased.
“How long has it taken you to write it? You didn’t just do that this afternoon?” she asked.
The boys exchanged glances. “About a month,” James replied cautiously.
“Yeah, his inspiration kept pissing him off, so it would go from love to hate and back again,” Andy said cracking up laughing at James’ glare. “What – better that she knows you wrote it for her than anyone else, dude.”
James flushed and busied himself unplugging his guitar.
Andy rubbed his arms. “It’s cooling down. I’m just gonna pop into the house and get a sweater.” He loped to the door and winked at Stephanie.
She wandered over to James, who was studiously ignoring her.
“No-one has ever written a song for me before,” she said shyly. James reached over and pulled her into him and kissed her hard on the lips. “I seem to be able to write about the stuff that I find too difficult to say,” he looked at her hesitantly.
She smiled at him and settled into his embrace, breaking away when Andy returned.
“James, I think I’d like to go and visit Michael before work. Can you drop me home to get my car?” she said.
“Do you think it’s wise to go back to your place? Sam might still be there,” he asked.
“Well, I’ll call Grandma first and see who’s about,” she said, pulling her phone from her back pocket. Sam had indeed gone back up to London and he was not best pleased, having to wade into the pond to retrieve his keys. Her father had returned and his conference was underway again.
Ok, Stephanie decided, after work I am going to slip in the back entrance of the guest house and find out just what my father is up to.
* * *
James dropped Stephanie back at Wakefield House around 5:30pm. A helicopter was parked in the field behind the house and the lights were all on in the guest house conference room. She slipped up to her bedroom to get changed and find her car keys. She wasn’t sure what her father would say about her still being in the village, but she really didn’t want to know, so she left the house quickly and quietly, without seeing anyone.
Stephanie drove down the long driveway and turned right onto the lane leading down into the village and adjusted the volume on her car stereo. She began to sing along with it, not noticing the car behind her until it sped up.
Hey, she thought, disbelievingly looking in her rear vision mirror. Back off. You’re driving way too close. She glanced at the headlights shining strongly behind her. She suddenly had a flashback to the car outside the club in London. In the dusk light the one behind her now looked similar. She gasped, feeling frightened. God – is this what happened to Michael? Was she about to be run off the road too? She sped up and reached into the pocket of her jacket retrieving her mobile phone. She rounded the bend on the narrow country lane coming onto a straight section and slowed her car as she tried to retrieve James’ number from her call list. The car behind her suddenly accelerated past her and pulled into a stop at an angle directly in front of her.
Stephanie jammed on the brakes and spun the steering wheel sharply sideways to avoid impact. Her mobile went flying out of her hands into the passenger foot well. The force of the sudden stop threw her head forward. She hit it on the steering wheel, before being thrown back in her seat. Momentarily dazed, she was aware of her door being wrenched open and a strong hand being clamped across her nose and mouth.
And then nothing.
Chapter 27
At 7:30pm, just as he was preparing to leave the Manor and join Andy and Steph at the café, James received a text from Andy.
Andy: Get ya hands off Steph and let her come to work.
James: Sadly, she’s not with me. She was gonna visit Mikey on her way to the café.
James scrolled through his mobile and found Stephanie’s number and called. It rang six times and then went to voicemail. He tried again and then sent her a text asking her to call him.
Frowning, he telephoned the hospital and was put through to Mrs Morgan in Michael’s room. After enquiring about Michael, whose condition hadn’t changed, he asked if Stephanie was there.
“No James. I haven’t seen her today, although she was planning to visit,” she replied. “Is everything ok?”
“I’m not sure,” James said. “Can you get Steph to call me if you see her?”
He hung up, feeling a cold hand clutching his heart.
He called Andy. She still hadn’t turned up at the café. It was now 8 o’clock.
Taking a deep breath, he made a decision and called the Wakefield House. Vince answered formally.
“Hello, it’s James Knox, is Stephanie there, please?”
There was a brief pause.
“No James, we haven’t seen her since she left on the back of your bike this morning,” Vince said, every word dripping with disapproval.
James ignored his tone and said, “I’m worried about her – she appears to be missing.”
“What do you mean, missing?” Vince said.
“Well, I dropped her home around 5:30 this afternoon to pick up her car. She was going to visit her friend Michael in hospital on her way to work at the café at 7pm. But she hasn’t been to either place and she isn’t answering her mobile,” James said.
Vince cursed on the other end of the line. “Her car is not here,” he said.
“Well, if she isn’t home, I’m going to start searching the road from the village to there in case she has had an accident,” James said.
“We’ll take it from here,” Vince said and hung up.
“Whatever,” James muttered down the disconnected phone line. He tapped another text to Andy.
James: No one knows where she is. I’m going to look for her.
Andy: Shit. What can I do?
James: Stay there in case she turns up.
Andy: Ok. Keep me updated.
James grabbed his leather jacket and helmet and shoved a flashlight in his pocket. He bolted down the back stair case through the kitchen and out to the garages. The house was strangely quiet. Where was everyone?
James drove his Vespa quickly to the village and turned left onto the road towards Wakefield House. He put his headlights on full and reaching into this pocket pulled out the flashlight and switched it on. He drove slowly weaving slightly so that his headlights covered the road and swinging the flashlight in a wide arc over the hedges that bordered the lane. After five minutes, he rounded a bend and saw flashlights ahead of him.
He pulled to a stop in front of Vince, Max and four men whom he didn’t recognise. Max looked James up and down appraisingly. Remaining seated on his Vespa, James removed his helmet and held out his hand to Max.
James Knox, sir,” he said politely.
Max didn’t move. He just glared at James, who lowered his hand.
“No sign of her then?” Vince asked.
James shook his head.
“I didn’t know she was still seeing you.” Max finally spoke, disdainfully.
“She is,” James replied simply. Keep your temper, he told himself.
“You do know her boyfriend is back?” Max asked slyly.
“Ex-boyfriend,” James corrected.
“What have you got to do with her being missing? You are the last one to see her,” Max spoke accusingly.
“I wouldn’t be wasting my time looking for her if I knew where she was. What do you know about her whereabouts? Are you hiding her at the house, so that she can’t see me?” James was done being polite.
“It may surprise you to know young man, that I have more important things to deal with than who
my daughter is dating, regardless of how I feel about his pedigree,” Max answered condescendingly.
“What? Important things like buying stolen art from my brother?” James said.
“I beg your pardon,” Max said turning on him, his eyes blazing.
“Let’s keep going towards the village,” Vince interrupted putting his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Arguing out here isn’t going to find her.”
James and Max grudgingly agreed.
James swung the Vespa around and fell in beside the men, driving slowly. They all moved quietly, flashlight scanning the road and the countryside. From this direction the lane sloped gently down the valley towards the village and the fields were visible over the top of the hedgerows. As they rounded the corner, James’ headlights caught on a flash of purple through a hole in a hedge on their left.
“Here,” he shouted, slowing to a stop and pointing his flashlight at the hedge. He jumped off the bike pulling it onto its stand. He remembered passing a gateway a little further on towards the village and began running towards it.
“James, wait,” Vince called catching up with him. “Let’s be careful here.”
James looked wildly at him. Vince placed his hand on James arm, which had the surprising effect of calming him down. He nodded and deferred to the older man, letting him go in front.
Vince signalled to the four strangers, some sort of universal military sign language. They all took up positions, scanning the road and surrounding hedges. It was then that James noticed the telltale bulges of weapons hidden under their jackets.
Shit Steph – you had better be ok, he thought, his stomach clenching.
Vince eased towards the gateway, quickly and quietly peaking around the edge of the hedge into the field. He turned and nodded to Max, who was at James’ shoulder. They exchanged concerned glances.
Vince suddenly bent down, sweeping his flashlight along the entranceway to the farm gate. He beckoned to Max.
“Look. Fresh tire tracks and footprints. Three different sets of footprints,” he said indicating the different types of tread in the mud. He tracked his flashlight along the tire tracks, which went through the closed gate and immediately turned left beside the hedge.
Stephanie hadn’t run off the road. Her car had been purposely parked in the field behind the hedge and the gate closed again.
James’ eyes widened. He couldn’t contain himself any longer. He pushed past Vince and vaulted the gate. The sheep sleeping under the hedge scattered, loudly announcing their annoyance at being disturbed.
“Steph,” he called his voice catching.
“James,” Vince hissed.
James ignored him and ran to her car. It was parked tightly up beside the hedge. He shone the flashlight through the driver’s window. It was empty. He pulled the door open. The internal light came on. The scent of Stephanie’s perfume hit him. He felt a tightening in his chest and had trouble swallowing. A half inflated airbag hung limply from the steering column.
“You’re a bloody idiot,” Vince said catching up with him. “This could have been a trap.”
James didn’t seem to hear him. “She’s not here,” he said, distraught.
Max caught up with them, along with one of the strangers. “Is she ok?”
“She’s not here,” James repeated helplessly.
Vince crouched down beside the open driver’s door and shone his flashlight around the interior of the car. He ran his fingers over the top of the steering wheel and held them up to the light.
“Is that what I think it is,” James said, his voice came out choked.
“Blood,” Vince confirmed.
Chapter 28
“Oh, God,” James said as he leant against the car. “I never should have let her drive alone, after what happened to Michael.”
Vince continued his search of the interior of the car and came out with Stephanie’s mobile phone in his hand.
“Six missed calls. All from you James,” Vince said, showing the phone to Max.
One of the other men circled the car.
“Sir,” he called in a heavily accented voice.
Max and Vince hurried to where he was standing at the front of the car. His flashlight was focussed on the front right bumper. It was slightly dented in, with black paint streaked across the shiny metal.
“I think she hit a black vehicle,” he said. James looked at him, trying to place the accent.
“Is this new?” Max questioned.
“Yes. Her car didn’t have a scratch on it when it was returned from the repair shop yesterday,” Vince confirmed.
“Sir,” another of the strangers called.
Vince and the other man ran back towards the gate.
“There is evidence of two vehicles stopping suddenly out on the lane. One on an angle in front of the other, about a hundred metres or so back up the road,” the man said.
Max sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “There’s nothing more we can do here tonight.” He turned to James, “I think you need to come back to the house, there are a few things that we need to discuss.”
He leaned over to close the door of the car. “Vince can come back and get the car in the morning.”
“Hang on,” James said stopping him. He reached down in the driver’s foot well and picked up the item that had caught his eye. He held it up to his flashlight. It was one of Stephanie’s long silver and purple earrings. He recalled seeing them in her ears earlier in the day; she must have lost it in the accident.
“Steph’s,” he said simply to Max.
“I know,” Max replied quietly. “I gave them to her.” He closed the car door and they walked silently out of the field closing the gate behind them. It wouldn’t do for the farm manager to find that open in the morning and the stock out on the road.
On the way to Wakefield House, James called Andy.
“We found her car abandoned and hidden behind a hedge, with blood on the steering wheel. Her mobile was in it. Looks like she has been kidnapped,” he said in a rush.
“No. Where are you?” Andy said, shocked.
“On my way to her place,” James replied.
“Ok. I’ll close the café and come as soon as I can,” Andy said.
James disconnected the call and joined the men in the dining room. A map of the district was spread out on the table. Vince was speaking into a mobile phone in one corner of the room. From the conversation, it sounded like he was talking to the local police. Max crouched beside Stephanie’s grandmother, who was seated on the other side of the room. He was stroking her hand and talking quietly to her. She was shaking her head in disbelief.
Vince came off the phone and walked over to James, slapping him on the shoulder. “James. Look, can you go and help Mrs Cooper to the kitchen. We are going to need coffee and sandwiches, while we co-ordinate the search.” He nodded to one of the men.
Several minutes later, James returned to the dining room carrying a large tray.
“…..this has to do with Knox and the painting. It’s too much of a coincidence. The raid last night has alerted Knox that we are on to him. We have to move now.” They stopped speaking as James came back into the room. As he set the tray down on the table, he felt all eyes in the room on him. Glancing around, he found himself surrounded.
“Take his mobile phone and keep an eye on him. It’s possible that he is here spying for his family,” one of the men instructed.
James held his hands in front of him and backed up towards a wall and called, “Mr Cooper. I have nothing to do with this. I care for your daughter. I would never do anything to hurt her.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I know you don’t trust me or my family, but you have to believe me.”
Max stood and walked over to James. “What was it you mentioned earlier in the lane about me buying stolen art from your brother?” he asked.
James hesitated unsure whether to trust Max or not. “Stephanie was investigating a piece of art work that used to hang in our library. She b
elieved it was a Van Gogh stolen before the war by the Nazis,” he said.
Max’s eyes narrowed. “And how exactly did she discover that? Are you sure you didn’t just tell her?”
“I didn’t know. To me it was just a painting that has hung in the library all my life,” James said.
“How on earth would Stephanie have realised that? I am afraid your story doesn’t stack up. You will have to do better than that.” Max turned away.
“What he is telling you is true,” a voice said from the doorway.
Everyone turned to look at Ellie Cooper who had returned from the kitchen.
“It was me who told Stephanie and James about strange goings on at Knox Manor around the outbreak of the war. James, here, didn’t like my version of events,” she said smiling at James, who hung his head sheepishly. “But I gave Stephanie my sister’s journals to read and I believe that she has continued investigating whatever it was at Knox Manor that got my sister killed all those years ago,” she said.
All eyes in the room swivelled back to James.
“We think my brother Alex has also discovered the painting’s provenance and is trying to sell it,” he said.
There were nods and murmurs around the room.
James continued. “What is your involvement Mr Cooper and who are all these guys? Stephanie wasn’t sure if you were working with or against Alex.”
Max Cooper looked momentarily offended. “These men are from Scotland Yard’s Art Theft division and from Mossad’s war crimes unit. This is Detective Inspector Marks and Lt. Eli David,” he said introducing two of the men.
“We have been watching your brother for a while on suspicion of fencing stolen art, when Eli here contacted us to say they had a lead on a piece of Nazi stolen, Jewish-owned art and your brother’s name came up again”, DI Marks explained. “Max has been assisting Scotland Yard for years on fraud cases, and since he lives near Knox, we pulled him in to work with us.”