No Way Home

by Jack Slater

  ‘Yes, except when…’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘Well, leave them to it then. They deserve each other by the sound of it. Their problems aren’t yours. If you’ve got a goal in life, you concentrate on that.’

  She stared at him, her eyes wide and haunted. ‘All I’ve ever wanted is my dad back.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Tab, but that is the impossible dream. All you can do is make sure he’d be proud of you.’

  Tears dripped from her eyes as she held his gaze, not attempting to brush them away. ‘How did you get to be so… wise?’ You’re so young and…’

  ‘What? Little?’ He grinned. ‘They say good things come in small packages.’ Not that I’ve ever been called a good thing, he thought. But he felt like one at that moment as she smiled through her tears and reached for his hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘What for? I only sat and talked.’

  She shook her head. ‘For the connection. I haven’t had that for so long.’ Her other hand came across, enveloping his in both of hers.

  *

  Ben leaned back, arms up over his head, stretching his spine and resting his eyes for a moment. He’d been concentrating on his computer screen for what felt like hours. He’d pack it in soon and go home. The warrant had come through quickly on Tanya Cunliffe’s bank and credit cards, but it had got him nowhere. She hadn’t used either since this morning, while they were waiting for her at her flat, when she’d bought milk, bread and a few other essentials at the filling station on Cowley Bridge Road.

  All of which had gone to waste when she threw the two carrier bags at him and Jane before she ran. He remembered the milk running down the steps towards her front door, the groceries spread across the brick pathway. What a waste, he thought with a sigh.

  Right. One more job to do, then he’d pack it in for the night and probably meet some of the others in the pub. He flipped open his notebook and picked up the phone to dial.

  It took just three rings before it was answered.

  ‘Hello?’ a male voice said.

  ‘Is that Mr Cunliffe?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is PC Myers with Exeter CID. Can I ask, have you heard from or seen your daughter, Tanya, today? Only, we’ve been trying to reach her and haven’t been able to.’

  ‘Yes, we gathered that. My wife’s sister rang earlier.’

  ‘Nancy Manning? Yes, we met her and her husband at their house.’

  ‘That’s what she told us.’

  ‘So, have you seen Tanya? Or heard from her?’

  He hesitated. ‘What’s this all about, Officer?’

  Ben remembered what Jane had told the Mannings. ‘We need to talk to her in reference to a death that occurred near where she works a couple of days ago. We think she might have seen something significant.’

  ‘I see.’ Ben could hear the relief in his voice. ‘Actually, she was here this afternoon. She stayed for two or three hours, then left. She had a bad stomach. We tried to get her to stay, but she wouldn’t. Said she’d be better at home.’

  ‘So, she headed home again? What time did she leave?’

  ‘Around five-thirty.’

  ‘OK. We’ll try her at home again then. Thank you.’

  Ben put the phone down and went back to his computer screen. Bringing up the Internet, he checked the train timetable. He knew they ran hourly between Brixham and Exeter. The timetable showed him that the northbound trip departed at five past the hour. He checked the time at the bottom of the screen. It was five to seven.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered. He’d had no idea it was anywhere near that late.

  He pulled out his phone, called up the contacts list and hit the button for Dave’s phone. Moments later, it was answered.

  ‘Hello?’

  Ben could hear music and voices in the background. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Ben? We’re in the Bell. You coming?’

  ‘Are you all still there?’ The Bell was a small, redbrick Victorian pub a few hundred yards up from the station, on the opposite side of Heavitree Road. It was a regular police hangout.

  ‘Yeah, why? You worried about being seen out with me and Dick?’

  Ben ignored the jibe. ‘Can any of you get to Central Station in the next nine minutes?’

  ‘Are you having a laugh? We’re all on the sauce, mate. Why?’

  ‘Because Tanya Cunliffe’s due to arrive there in the next few minutes.’

  ‘Shit. Get some uniforms there. They can pick her up. You’ll have to call the boss and get him to come in and talk to her. None of us can do it.’

  Ben hung up and used his desk phone to call downstairs.

  ‘Fairweather.’

  ‘Hey, Sarge. It’s Ben Myers. I’m upstairs. Have you got anyone in close proximity to Central Station right now?’

  The sergeant blew out air and said, ‘Hold on.’ Moments later, he was back. ‘Nearest is Sophie and Jenny. They’re currently on Fore Street. Why? What have you got?’

  ‘The suspect whose flat we’ve got surveillance on up by the university is on a train due to arrive there in the next six minutes.’

  Fairweather laughed. ‘You’ll be lucky. You’ll just have to hope the surveillance crew pick her up. I’ll radio them, tell them she could be on the way.’

  ‘All right. Thanks.’ He put the phone down. Another chance missed. And no chance of getting out of here in the next half-hour either. He knew the boss was at home with his daughter, but he’d want to know the situation. He picked up the phone again and dialled.

  ‘Boss,’ he said when it was answered. ‘It’s Ben. Just phoning with an update. We know where Tanya Cunliffe is, but we haven’t got boots in the vicinity at the moment. What we have got is surveillance on her place and Sergeant Fairweather’s letting them know she’s en route, so hopefully they’ll apprehend her when she gets there and bring her in.’

  ‘Are you still in the office?’ From his tone, he’d already guessed the answer.

  ‘I had a few bits to sort out. I was just going to get going when I found out where she was.’

  ‘Are you on your own?’

  ‘Uh, yeah. The others were all here until a little while ago, but they cleared off when we’d got as far as we could with everything.’

  ‘So, why…? Where are they now?’

  ‘In the Bell.’

  The DS sighed. ‘I’m going to need to come in at some point, aren’t I?’

  ‘Well... what would you do with Annie? Your wife’s at work, isn’t she? I could get the DI.’

  ‘No. It’s my case, it’s my responsibility. Just call me, yes?’

  ‘OK, boss.’

  *

  Where the hell was she?

  It was about a fifteen-minute walk from the station and she should have got in there twenty-seven minutes ago. Had she decided to go somewhere else instead of coming home? Had she spotted them as she was approaching and slipped away?

  PC Don Sherratt hadn’t been happy at taking on this assignment in the first place, but if some pillock had caused them to lose her… He reviewed their positions in his mind. Was there any way she could have seen any of them? It was dark. Had been for a while now. Streetlights twinkled through the shifting branches and new leaves of the trees around them.

  He had a team of three other officers with him. Jess was behind a big, glossy-leaved rhododendron at the far end of the block, overlooking the path down to the back end of the garages and beyond them towards Glenthorne Road, in case the target came that way. Young Harry was on the far side of Copplestone, up towards the bend, crouched behind a car on someone’s drive. Jake was tucked back in the entrance to one of the big houses, a short way back from the entrance to Glenthorne so he could come in from behind her if it proved necessary. And himself: he was in the shrubbery opposite her door. They’d left the car a couple of hundred yards up Copplestone Road, in one of its side-shoots, so it was well out of sight.

  He couldn’t see how she could ha
ve spotted any of them. So, where the hell was she?

  *

  Pete held out as long as he could, but eventually he could wait no longer: he had to make the call. He got up from the sofa and headed out to the hallway. Annie sighed behind him and he smiled. Had he been that easy to read?

  He picked up the phone and dialled.

  ‘Exeter police. How can I help?’

  ‘You can put my mind at rest, Bill. It’s Pete Gayle. Have you heard anything from the stakeout at Tanya Cunliffe’s place yet?’

  ‘No. Well, yes – I’ve heard. But no – she hasn’t turned up there.’

  ‘But it’s over an hour since she got into the railway station. Where the hell’s she gone?’

  ‘The pub? The cinema? A restaurant? A friend’s?’

  ‘Yeah, all right. As long as she doesn’t go attacking another bloody cabbie on the way home, afterwards…’

  ‘We can’t very well put a warning out about picking up lone females, can we?’

  ‘Huh. OK. I suppose we’ll have to maintain the surveillance and just wait and see then.’

  ‘Yes. It’s not like you to be impatient.’ The desk sergeant’s tone made it almost a question.

  ‘Like I said – I don’t want her attacking anyone else while we’re looking for her, that’s all.’

  ‘I’ll keep you posted.’

  ‘OK. Cheers, Bill.’ Pete put the phone down feeling as frustrated as when he’d picked it up. But there was nothing else he could do. He went back to Annie and the movie they’d been watching.

  ‘Do you feel better now?’ she asked as he sat down beside her.

  ‘No. And I won’t until she’s caught.’

  ‘They say patience is a virtue.’

  He looked down at her. Her gaze was fixed on the screen across the room, but the way she was holding herself told him all he needed. ‘They also say children should be seen and not heard.’

  ‘That’s so outdated.’ She was still staring at the TV. ‘Young people need validation, you know.’

  Pete laughed and ruffled her hair. ‘I know exactly what young people need, my girl.’

  She looked up at him, big-eyed, her expression saying “Really?” though her mouth stayed closed.

  ‘Discipline,’ he said. ‘Respect for their elders and betters.’ He grabbed her around the ribs and started to tickle her.

  Annie squealed and wriggled, trying to escape, but he held her down easily.

  ‘Dad! Stop!’ She laughed and giggled, gave up trying to get away and instead fought back, tickling him in the ribs, then the back of his neck.

  Pete’s head snapped back as an electric sensation shot through him. ‘Ow! I’ll have you for that.’ He intensified his attack, one hand holding her while the other darted this way and that, fingers wriggling. She squealed again, gave up trying to tickle him and instead grabbed his nose between a small thumb and forefinger. ‘Beep, beep.’ He intensified the nasal effect on his voice. ‘That’s the way to do it. Where’s my truncheon?’

  He stopped tickling and sat back.

  She held on, pulling his nose around towards the TV. ‘Con-cen-trate,’ she said slowly, then finally let go.

  ‘Ooh. I could so tan your backside for that, young lady.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Huh! Don’t you believe it, missy. How long has this got left?’

  ‘Twenty minutes. It’s just getting to the best bit.’

  ‘OK. See the end, then its bedtime.’

  ‘For who? It’s only just gone eight.’

  Pete grunted. ‘Well, it feels a sight later.’

  ‘That’s because you’re not paying attention. You’re fretting over that suspect.’

  He nodded. ‘You’re right. I am. How’d you get to be so damn clever, at your age?’

  ‘Hmm.’ She pursed her lips as if pondering the question. ‘It can’t be genetic, so it must be from school, I suppose.’

  *

  He gave it until just short of midnight. He couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the phone and dialled. It rang three times before being picked up.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jill. It’s me. We’re going to have to make an early start in the morning. She hasn’t gone back to her flat, so we need to stakeout that, the tyre place and her office between us. You and Dave take the flat. Make sure you’re out of sight. I’ll call him and tell him in a minute. Get there for seven-ish, maybe a bit before.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Night, Jill.’

  He ended the call and made the next one. This time, it was picked up more quickly. ‘Miles.’

  ‘Dave, it’s me. The target’s not come home to roost. I’ve just spoken to Jill. Told her to meet you at the flat just before seven and get set up to observe.’

  ‘Right, boss.’

  ‘Night.’ He pressed the red button a second time. He would get Dick and Jane to stakeout the tyre place. He and Ben could take the solicitors’ office on Southernhay, where she worked. At least there, if she hadn’t turned up by nine-thirty, they could get back to the squad room and start trying to track her down another way. In the meantime… He dialled again.

  ‘Transport Police. How can I help?’

  ‘Evening. This is DS Pete Gayle from Heavitree Road. We’ve got a suspect who might well be a flight risk, so we need to keep eyes open for her.’

  ‘OK…’

  Pete explained the details briefly.

  ‘Right. We’ll do what we can. Don’t know how effective it’ll be, though, if she’s as good at disguising herself as you reckon.’

  ‘OK. Cheers.’ Pete hung up and dialled the station again. ‘Bill. Tanya Cunliffe’s bank card and credit card. We’ve got a warrant and we checked earlier, found no activity since this morning, but we need to keep an eye in case she uses one to book a train or a plane – anything to get her away from here. Can you do that?’

  ‘Yeah, if you give me the details.’

  ‘I’ll get Ben to give you a ring in a minute.’

  ‘Right-o.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Four more calls and Pete had done all he could. Except relax – and he wouldn’t be able to do that until Tanya Cunliffe was in a cell at Heavitree Road police station.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  By five past nine, Pete and Ben were sitting in the reception area of Hamilton, Bayliss and Cunningham, solicitors, on Southernhay Road. He had used the police radio to check with Dave and his phone to speak to Jane, but neither had any news for him. He and Ben had stepped into the tall, old building as soon as the door was unlocked. He had shown the receptionist his badge and explained the situation, then they had taken a seat on the dark-red leather of the built-in seat that went all the way around the bay window. Unwilling to allow the receptionist to overhear their conversation, Pete had kept it to a minimum. They had flicked through the out-of-date magazines on the coffee table in front of them. Ben had been doing things on his smartphone that related to the investigation, but there had been no sign of Tanya Cunliffe arriving.

  At half past nine, a tall, slim man in a tweed suit and brogues that shone brighter than any military boots Pete had ever seen came through a side door, glanced at them and leaned over to speak quietly to the receptionist. She nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’ And he went away.

  She picked up the phone and dialled. Held on for several seconds, but there was no reply. She frowned and put it down. Stillness returned to the room. All Pete could hear was the ticking of a clock and the passing traffic through the old, single-glazed window behind him.

  Then his phone rang in his pocket.

  He took it out, glanced at the screen and hit the green icon. ‘DS Gayle.’

  ‘Pete. It’s Andy Fairweather. We’ve got a bite. She went into the HSBC on the High Street and withdrew five hundred pounds.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Four minutes ago.’

  ‘Cheers, Andy. Can you put me through to Graham?’

  ‘Hold on.’

&n
bsp; There was a click, then a ringing tone. It was picked up on the second ring. ‘CCTV observation room, Graham speaking.’

  ‘Graham, it’s Pete Gayle. Four minutes ago, our girl withdrew some cash from the counter in the HSBC. Can you see if you can spot her coming out and see where she’s going?’

  ‘OK. I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He ended the call. The temptation to get up and get going was almost overpowering, but they didn’t know where she was headed yet. If she came here and they’d just left, he’d be kicking himself.

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘Hold tight, Ben. No use going off half-cocked.’

  He waited, phone in hand. Moments later, it rang again. He thumbed the icon and raised it to his ear. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Pete. She came out and headed north and turned up Castle Street.’

  Where there were no cameras.

  ‘Bugger. OK. Thanks, Graham.’ He ended the call and looked at Ben. ‘She’s dropped out of sight. And she hasn’t got her mobile with her, so we can’t track her with that. Come on – we’re wasting time here.’ He stood up. Crossing to the reception desk, he handed the girl a card. ‘If anyone here hears from her or sees her, give me a call, yes?’

  ‘Of course, Sergeant.’

  He paused, holding her gaze. ‘We’re trying to get a killer off the streets here, understood?’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  Pete nodded. ‘Thanks for your help.’ He turned to Ben. ‘Right, let’s go.’

  Outside, he walked briskly up the road towards the courthouse, where he had parked.

  ‘Get on that phone of yours,’ he said to Ben. ‘Contact every car-hire firm in the city – there can’t be more than a handful. Get them to delay her and contact us as soon as she shows her licence.’

  ‘Right, boss.’

  So, her car was contained, he had a watch on the train stations, car hire would be out of question. If she was planning to leave the city, that just left the bus services. And there was nothing he could do about them. There were too many pickup points in too many directions. He just had to hope CCTV would pick her up again.