by Lisa Hartley
Geoff gave a quiet laugh.
‘Not exactly, Mark, no.’
‘Where are we going? Is it your aunt?’
As the car screeched around a mini roundabout and his father-in-law bent over the wheel, Mark took out his own phone.
‘I’ll ring Celia and tell her …’
‘Turn it off,’ Geoff snarled, wrenching the steering wheel to the right.
‘But …’
‘Do as I fucking say.’
Mark, terrified now, did as he was told. Geoff was almost unrecognisable as the mild-mannered, gentle man he knew. His teeth were bared like an angry dog as he urged the car forward. Mark folded his shaking hands in his lap, not wanting to do anything to further antagonise Geoff. Whatever was going on, he wanted no part in it.
As they sped along, Geoff leant even closer to the windscreen. He smiled a little, the sort of leer a predator might give its prey.
‘Almost there,’ he muttered.
Mark sat up straighter, squinting out into the darkness.
‘Almost where, Geoff? I can’t see anything.’
His father-in-law glanced at him, his eyes cold.
‘You’ve been wondering where Lauren is for days, haven’t you? Well, it’s your lucky day. You’re going to be reunited.’
48
Catherine gawped, speechless for a second.
‘Say that again?’
‘It’s nothing to do with Mr Worthy, or Alex Lambert either. Geoff Chantry is our boss.’
‘Is that good news or bad news?’ Natalie asked, changing gear. She turned into a single-track lane littered with huge potholes, most of them filled with water. ‘Hold on to your hats.’
‘Geoff Chantry? Are you sure?’
Dan widened swollen eyes.
‘Don’t you think I should know?’
‘But that’s ridiculous. You’re telling me he’s known where Lauren’s been all this time?’ Catherine demanded. ‘He’s her father, for God’s sake.’
‘He’s Lauren’s step dad, not her father,’ Dan told her. ‘He married Lauren’s mum when Lauren was ten.’
Catherine shook her head in disbelief. ‘Oh well, that’s all right then. Perfectly fine to offer your step daughter a job as a drug mule as long as you’re not a blood relation.’
Natalie muttered to herself as they bounced over a particularly savage pothole.
‘And he does have a connection to Worthy’s – he was the Financial Director until he retired two years ago,’ Dan went on, wincing as another jolt threw him up in the air.
‘And Worthy told us that himself.’ Catherine raised a hand to her face and rubbed her forehead for a second as Natalie swung the car in through an open gate and bumped down a short stretch of concrete.
‘This is the place.’
‘Thanks, Nat. Right, we need to find Geoff Chantry. He’s been staying with his son-in-law, Mark Cook. Have him brought in please.’
‘Okay, Sarge.’ Nat fumbled for her radio.
The other squad car arrived alongside them and doors started opening, the blue lights still whirling over the brick building that loomed in front of them. Kendrick was out of the car and by Catherine’s window, tapping on it.
‘Where is she? It’s getting colder by the minute.’
Catherine turned to Dan. ‘Right, you. Out. Show us where Lauren is.’
He couldn’t take his eyes off Kendrick hovering in the window, his face lit up like a Halloween lantern every few seconds. Dan held up his hands piteously.
‘Can’t you take the cuffs off now?’
‘No chance,’ she snapped. ‘Come on, before DCI Kendrick decides to help you.’
Dan’s eyes widened again and he began to slide towards the door. Catherine yanked it open and he clambered out, blinking in the glare of the blue lights. Kendrick grabbed him by the elbow.
‘Show us where she is.’
The wail of another siren cut the air and more blue lights were visible in the distance.
‘Sounds like our ambulance,’ Natalie observed. Kendrick gave Dan a shove.
‘Come on.’ He marched off, dragging the younger man along with him.
‘Guv, Geoff Chantry’s the man in charge,’ Catherine called after them. Kendrick’s step faltered for a second.
‘Chantry? As in Lauren’s father?’ His face was a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
‘Step father, but yeah, that’s the one,’ Catherine confirmed.
‘Jesus. Strange how family ties don’t matter when drugs and money are involved,’ he muttered.
Nathan, Anna, Dave and Simon clustered around Catherine.
‘Geoff Chantry? And we never …’ Dave exhaled.
‘I know. Nat’s putting a call out for him. Come on, let’s find Lauren.’
They caught up with Kendrick and Raynor.
‘He says she’s locked in that barn thing over there.’ Kendrick nodded towards a dilapidated building that stood in one corner of the field.
‘Lauren’s in that place? I wouldn’t keep a dog in there,’ Simon sounded disgusted. Raynor said nothing and kept his head down.
‘She’ll be freezing too,’ Anna added, glaring at Raynor.
‘Can we get them to bring the squad cars closer?’ Kendrick asked. ‘We might be glad of the light.’
Anna nodded and spoke into her Airwave handset.
‘On their way.’
They kept walking, both squad cars driving behind them. All at once though, another set of headlights sped onto the airfield, the engine screaming.
‘Who’s this?’ Dave Lancaster turned and shielded his eyes.
‘Any ideas, Dan? Another of Geoff Chantry’s assistants perhaps?’ Catherine gave him a prod. ‘Well?’
Raynor was terrified. ‘It’ll be Sid.’
Blank faces.
‘Sid?’ Kendrick said, shoving his huge face close to Raynor’s. The younger man shrank back.
‘Sid Benson. He works at Worthy’s as well.’
Catherine groaned. ‘Of course he does. So you and Sid are the muscle and Geoff Chantry’s the brains?’
‘You could put it like that,’ Raynor sniffed.
The two squad cars had moved quickly to pen the vehicle in. Between them, Collins and Roberts had wrestled Benson out of the car and were now in the process of handcuffing him. Raynor let out a sigh.
‘I thought he was going to kill me,’ he said. No one bothered to reply and they kept walking.
One squad car was on the move again, Natalie’s vehicle waiting by the entrance to the airfield, Benson now locked into the back seat. Nathan kept driving, reaching the squat building at the same time as Raynor, Kendrick and the others.
It was built from red brick; a functional, military-style storeroom that looked derelict.
‘It’s the other side,’ Raynor nodded.
They crept around and sure enough there was another door set into the brickwork with a bright new padlock hanging from the handle. Kendrick kept a tight hold of Raynor as Nathan brought his car right up to the building, then marched him around to the back of it and shut him in.
Catherine was at the padlocked door. ‘Lauren?’ she called. No reply. ‘Lauren, can you hear me?’ Nothing. ‘It’s the police – we’re going to break down the door. Stand clear, Lauren, okay? Lauren?’ She turned to the others, her face set. ‘There’s a terrible smell in there.’
‘Come away for a minute, Sarge.’ Anna took her elbow as Nathan Collins came forward, gripping the handle of a heavy-duty hammer.
‘Where’s that come from?’ Kendrick demanded.
Collins grinned. ‘Thought it might come in handy.’
‘Just get on with it,’ Kendrick snarled, standing well back. ‘Where’s that bloody ambulance?’
Collins hit the padlock once and it flew off into the grass. ‘Pathetic,’ he muttered as Simon handed him a torch. He ducked through the door. ‘Lauren?’
Catherine stepped forward. ‘Is she there, Nathan?’
‘She is. She�
��s alive, but she looks bad.’
‘I’m coming in,’ Catherine said, slipping on some nitrile gloves. Her shoes touched plastic sheeting, crackling underfoot as she gazed around the freezing room. The smell was overwhelming: urine, faeces and fetid, closed-in air. She swallowed a few times. Collins crouched in the middle of the room, where the plastic had been gathered.
‘She’s tried to use it to keep warm I think.’ Collins swallowed.
‘For the good it’s done her. Gloves, Nathan.’ Catherine shoved a pair under his nose.
‘Thanks.’ He pulled them on as Catherine leant over Lauren. Her eyes were closed, her blonde hair dark with grease and filth. A stench rose from her, unwashed, rotten and terrible. Catherine touched a fingertip to Lauren’s cheek. ‘You’re safe,’ she whispered.
Both officers looked up when they heard an engine outside.
‘The ambulance.’ Collins was on his feet.
‘About time.’ Catherine hurried after him, knowing the paramedics would need room to work. As she neared the door she noticed a light switch and flicked it, not expecting it to work. A yellow glow fell across the room, flickering and stuttering. She turned back to glance at Lauren. She hadn’t moved.
Outside, she didn’t see the ambulance she had been expecting, but a civilian car. As she frowned at it, wondering why Natalie had let it through, the passenger door was flung open and Mark Cook leapt out. Geoff Chantry was in the driving seat.
‘Where’s Lauren?’ Mark yelled. Kendrick hurried towards him.
‘Mr Cook, you need to calm down.’ The police van had finally arrived and was lumbering over the grass towards them. Catherine saw Geoff Chantry’s eyes flick up to his rear-view mirror as it approached, as though trying to decide what to do next. She wondered why he had approached the building when it was obvious that the police had already arrived on the scene, then realised that on the single-track road with the police van close behind him, Chantry would have had no choice but to keep moving forward.
‘Where is she?’ Mark shouted, trying to run past Kendrick, who grabbed his arm.
‘Mr Cook, please. Your wife is safe, but we’re waiting for the ambulance. You need to stay out here.’
Cook tried to wrestle himself away.
‘I want to see her, let me go.’ He continued to struggle, but Kendrick held him tight. Anna was approaching the driver’s door of Chantry’s vehicle.
‘Mr Chantry, please get out of the car,’ she commanded.
Chantry ignored her, still staring at the police van. Nathan Collins met Catherine’s eyes and glanced at his squad car. Catherine gave a tiny nod and Nathan began to move. Chantry’s hands gripped the steering wheel and a strange, beatific expression crossed his face.
‘Guv …’ Catherine warned. As Kendrick looked at her, Mark Cook saw his chance, broke free of the DCI and sprinted towards the building. At the same moment, Geoff Chantry made up his mind and floored the accelerator.
With a sickening thud, Chantry’s car collided with Mark and flung him to the side. He rolled over and lay still, face down in the grass. Chantry kept going, pulled the car into a sharp turn and sped off in the direction he had come from.
Uniformed officers spilled out of the van, rushing over to Mark Cook who lay motionless. Chris Rogers ran up to Catherine, his eyes wide.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ he shouted. Catherine could only shake her head as the ambulance finally arrived at the gate. She took out her phone and requested another.
49
They stood in a huddle in the incident room, hot drinks cradled in their hands as the shock kicked in.
‘That sound when the car hit him …’ Dave shuddered.
‘Don’t,’ pleaded Anna.
‘Have we heard anything from the hospital?’ Chris wanted to know.
‘Not yet. The paramedics said Lauren was dehydrated, but that she should be fine once they got some fluid and food into her. They didn’t say much about Mark though.’ Catherine was staring at the grubby carpet tiles. No one spoke for a few seconds, the image of the car’s impact and Mark’s tumbling body still fresh.
Chris cleared his throat. ‘Geoff Chantry didn’t put up much of a fight, did he? Didn’t even have to call the helicopter in.’
There were a few weak smiles. ‘Crashing into a hedge after half a mile wasn’t the best start,’ Dave smirked.
‘Now he’ll be at the hospital for hours avoiding being interviewed,’ Chris complained.
‘I’d rather wait for him to be given the all clear by a doctor now than have him say later that he had concussion and no idea what he was talking about when he spoke to us,’ Catherine pointed out.
‘Yeah, I suppose.’
‘So we’re just going to hang around until Chantry is brought back here?’ Simon was keen to get home to his wife and baby.
‘No, you lot go,’ Catherine said. ‘I’ve agreed it with the DCI, he’s on the phone with Superintendent Stringer now, singing all of your praises. We won’t start interviewing Chantry until tomorrow morning anyway. I’m going to have a quick chat with Dan Raynor now to get some basic facts, but other than that there won’t be much else happening tonight. We’ll want everyone here in the morning, say eight o’clock.’ She smiled round at them.
They all finished their drinks and trooped over to rinse their mugs out, then started filing out of the door. Dave hesitated for a moment.
‘Sarge, if you do hear anything from the hospital about Lauren and Mark, will you text us?’
She nodded.
‘No problem, Dave.’
He nodded and closed the door behind him. She could hear them talking and laughing as they went down the corridor. She pulled out a chair, weariness overtaking her.
As she finished her last mouthful of tea, her mobile phone began to ring. Checking the display, she frowned.
‘Jonathan?’
Knight’s voice sounded odd, tight, as if his throat were constricted.
‘Catherine, do you remember how to get to my house?’
‘Of course, but …’
‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you come here, please? It shouldn’t take long.’
‘Come to your house? Why? What’s going on?’ She heard a deep voice rumbling in the background and then what sounded like a slap. ‘Jonathan? Are you all right? Tell me what’s happening.’
‘Please Catherine, just come here. I’m fine, I promise. There’s been a … a development.’
‘But we’ve arrested Geoff Chantry, he’s the one behind Keeley Pearce’s death and the drug smuggling. What other developments can there be?’
Knight paused. ‘Chantry? Christ, I never …’ The deep voice again, impatient and commanding. Catherine felt unease creep through her. What was going on? She trusted Knight, but he was doing himself no favours at the moment, it had to be said. She sighed. What choice did she have?
‘All right. Give me two minutes to let them know downstairs that I won’t be interviewing just yet and I’ll be there.’
‘Thank you.’
She ended the call, angry with herself. Why had she said that? She wanted to talk to Dan Raynor, find out what had been going on at Worthy and Son. Now she’d allowed Knight to drag her into one of his mysteries. This wasn’t the time.
She sent a quick text to DCI Kendrick, explaining she had to nip out and that she’d be back soon. He would be on the phone with the Super for a while and she might be back at the station before he even realised that she’d gone.
She hoped so, knowing Kendrick wouldn’t be amused by another of Knight’s “mystery man” routines. She pulled on her coat, shouldered her bag and ran down the stairs. Whatever Knight was up to, it had better be worth her while.
Knight lived in a small village, accessible only by negotiating a maze of country lanes. Catherine threaded her way through them as quickly as she dared, knowing that these roads were never gritted. She wouldn’t be able to be quite so smug about Geoff Chantry smashing up his car if she ended up doin
g so herself a few hours later.
Finally she spotted Knight’s grey stone cottage. His car was parked on the driveway, and another vehicle had been shoved in behind it, a huge, menacing-looking black four-by-four. Catherine frowned. What was going on here? She pulled up onto the kerb and sat for a second. Taking out her phone to snap a picture of the unfamiliar car, she felt her heart rate quicken. She only had Knight’s word for it that he was here, at his house. What if Shea and Allan were right? What if Knight had killed Paul Hughes? She had believed, during their last case, that she was beginning to know him a little better, but could she truly say she did?
Get a grip, Catherine, she told herself, forcing down the doubts. Kendrick had faith in Knight, and she knew she did too. She climbed out of her car and locked the door, still watching the black vehicle as if it were a vicious dog snarling on a chain of unknown length. It looked empty. There could be someone lying in wait on the back seat, of course, waiting to grab her as she walked by.
She gave the car as wide a berth as possible, even though she knew she was being ridiculous. There were lights on in Knight’s house – he was there. She hurried towards the front door and gave it a hearty thump.
It swung open and a middle-aged man in a smart suit stood grinning at her, one leather gloved hand resting on the door frame.
In the other hand, he held a gun.
50
Catherine gulped, her heart apparently trying to escape from her body via her throat. For a second, she thought she was going to throw up all over his pointy black shoes.
‘Sergeant Bishop? I’m Malc Hughes. Thank you for coming.’ He waved the gun airily, beckoning her inside. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she wasn’t going to say so, not to him, and not to the gun. He stepped back as she stumbled forward, closed the door and turned to her.
‘Your boss is in the living room with some associates of mine.’ Swallowing hard, Catherine took a couple of steps, then faltered. Hughes stopped too and gave a chuckle. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
Catherine half-turned and looked him in the eye.
‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’