Blazing Obsession

by Dai Henley

  Having Alisha in the team proved to be a good idea.

  She said, “Think what it means, Lynne. If you pull this off. Not only will you have Georgie back, you’ll get that scum-bag of an ex-husband of yours put away for a while.”

  We didn’t have to go to Disneyworld. RP called early the next morning to say Nick had used his credit card at Orlando Airport to rent a car on the evening they landed. The amount paid suggested a month’s hire.

  He’d used the card again at a motel in Kissimee the following day and later at Disneyworld. The next day, he bought fuel from a petrol station on the outskirts of Miami, 250 miles south of Orlando.

  “This is good isn’t it?” I said.

  “Well, yes, but by the time the credit card companies process the charges and my contact gets me the info, we’re always going to be at least two days behind Burrows. We’ve got to hope he stays in one place for a while. But at least we’re on his tail.”

  “Why do you think he’s headed for Miami?”

  “Could be because two million people live there and it’s renowned for high levels of drug dealing. Maybe he thinks he can make a living there under the radar.”

  He said he’d call again as soon as he had more information.

  *

  We checked out of the hotel immediately, hired a Ford Explorer and headed down the Florida Turnpike taking us directly into Miami. We couldn’t do anything more until we heard from RP.

  DS Evans phoned me later that morning as we were booking into a small hotel in South Beach, Miami. I’d already told him about our plan to travel to Florida.

  He appeared surprisingly sympathetic. He’d witnessed many abductions like ours and not many had a happy ending, he’d said. He actually wished us luck.

  He told me the police had continued to carry out their own surveillance on Frankie Richards, Nick’ s drug dealing partner, as a result of the video tape I’d left with the detective.

  An undercover cop had caught Richards in possession of cocaine and caught him in the act of supplying two grams to a spotty-faced youth under one of the bridges spanning the Thames footpath near Greenwich Pier. Richards had already served time for a previous offence. He therefore faced a serious amount of time in custody.

  He didn’t take much persuading to ‘grass-up’ Nick as his supplier in return for a more lenient sentence.

  “The case against Burrows has built to the point where a prosecution now appears likely,” DS Evans said.

  Another break proved even more significant. RP called an hour later to say that one of Nick’s credit card charges paid for a one-star motel, Shona’s, along the busy Tamiami Trail where it meets SW 57th Avenue, four miles from downtown Miami.

  Judging by the amount, even in this shabby part of town, it looked like he’d paid for a week’s stay. The motel office manager had presumably insisted on payment upfront. RP had traced the address and given it to me.

  If the Met had passed the same information to the Miami Police Department, they’d most likely be on their way there now.

  I glanced at my watch. It read 3.30pm.

  I told Lynne and Alisha the news. “Leave your bags in the car. We’re not staying. We’re going to the motel… now. We haven’t got much time.”

  Lynne’s face turned pale at the immediate prospect of putting on her Oscar-winning performance, as RP had described it.

  “Do I have to do this? Isn’t there another way?”

  Before I could react, Alisha hugged Lynne tightly and said, “Lynne, this is it. Come on… we’re close now. Remember what it will be like to see Georgie again.”

  “C’mon you two, the motel’s only a few miles from here. Let’s go,” I urged.

  Lynne had phoned her mother every day whilst we’d been in the US, trying to allay her fears. The previous night, Margaret asked to speak to me.

  She said, “You know, having a child taken away is the most traumatic thing to happen to a mother. And now my pregnant daughter and her boyfriend are chasing Nick and Georgie all over Florida. Perhaps it’s best if Lynne and Nick do get back together. At least they won’t have these problems with abductions, courts, contact orders and harassment. Surely Nick’s learnt his lesson?”

  I exploded. “That’s ridiculous! You’ve forgotten what Nick was like to live with. And we’ve probably heard only half the story.”

  I thought about telling her about Nick’s drug dealing, but I didn’t want to worry her any more than necessary.

  She said, “You obviously love Lynne, James and I like you. I’m sure you’d be good for her and Georgie. But it’s so messy, isn’t it?”

  “You could say that.”

  I worried that deep in her heart Lynne felt the same way.

  *

  I thought about what we’d do once we located Nick. The plan had to be foolproof or I’d lose Lynne. And Nick couldn’t possibly know about my involvement. But I needed to be around to make sure he didn’t do anything silly.

  I drove to a car rental site, hired another car, transferred my case and gave Alisha the keys to the Ford Explorer. I followed her to the motel, parked in a bay away from the office and pulled a baseball cap low over my face. I watched Alisha and Lynne go inside and a couple of minutes later they emerged and made for Room 14.

  The door opened, marginally at first, and then wider. Nick’s face registered utter surprise. I heard Georgie whoop with joy at seeing his mother. They hugged for a good minute before all four of them went inside. I’d have given anything to be with them. I hoped Lynne’s nerve would hold.

  An hour later, Alisha came out with Georgie. I slid further down in my seat. As planned, she took him to a McDonald’s, leaving Nick and Lynne to have their chat.

  I remained in my car, imagining the conversation taking place which would change my life. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel in frustration. I tried listening to the radio but got angry at the strident ads exhorting me to join a health club at ‘never to be repeated’ special rates, or take advantage of ‘Twofers’ (two for one) dinners at a local diner.

  Another hour passed before I saw Alisha’s car return and draw up outside the motel room. She and Georgie knocked at the door and they entered. We’d earlier considered not returning Georgie to Nick but discounted the idea once I remembered he appeared on Nick’s passport. They had to leave the US together.

  A further half-hour dragged by. By now it was 6.30pm. I cheered internally as I saw Nick come out of the motel room carrying his case, followed by Alisha and Lynne, who held Georgie’s hand. They made their way to their respective hire cars. If they headed for Miami airport, twenty minutes away, I’d know the plan was working.

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief when they turned left out of the motel – heading in the right direction. I followed them.

  My fallback plan if Nick didn’t cooperate was to call the Miami Police Department and inform them of Nick’s location. That wouldn’t have been our perfect result by a long way and I was glad I didn’t have to resort to it.

  We’d planned for Alisha to return the hire car at the airport, go to the British Airways ticket office and get the return flights changed to one of the evening flights to Gatwick.

  As I made my own way to the security check area, taking great care not to be seen by them, I spotted Alisha heading towards the ladies’ rest room on her own. I was desperate to know how Lynne had managed to get this far.

  As Alisha emerged, I pulled her to one side.

  “How did it go?”

  “James! You startled me!” She looked nervously around first and then spoke in a hushed voice. “I’ve never seen anyone so stunned to see us as Nick… he asked how the bloody hell we found him. We said we’d employed a hotshot private eye. We didn’t go into details.”

  “Good. How did he react once he got over the shock?”

  “Actually, I think he’d got stressed out trying to handle Georgie. He’d been unhappy and tearful ever since they’d left Disneyworld. He hated staying in motels… ‘so
boring’, he said. And obviously, he’s missing his mum, his grandma and his mates at school.”

  “Poor little bugger.”

  “I know. Anyway, we’ve changed the tickets. We’re booked on BA 208 leaving Gate 21 at 21.45 and landing at 11am UK time.”

  “Good. How’s Lynne?”

  “Very nervous. We haven’t had much time to discuss the finer details. But looks like she’s pulled it off.”

  “Fantastic. Sounds like he’s swallowed the possibility the police will drop any charges as long as Lynne’s happy.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t easy, though. Her biggest problem was getting Nick to accept she was pregnant with your child. She said she’d told him categorically she’d finished with you. He fell for it. Look, I’d better go. They’ll be wondering where I am.” She ran towards the gates without a backward glance.

  Half an hour later, I changed my ticket for a flight leaving later in the evening.

  Before going through to security, I called DS Evans’ landline even though I realised it was a few minutes after 2.30am in the UK. I left a message telling him about Nick’s flight and urged him to be at Gatwick to arrest him. I hoped he’d pick up the message in time.

  I called RP and left a message. I explained what had happened.

  “Can you be there tomorrow to meet them, make sure everything goes according to plan? I’m worried that if DS Evans doesn’t arrest Nick, it’s going to be difficult for Lynne.”

  I bridled at the fact that Lynne had told Nick emphatically we were finished. I fretted that she might have had a change of heart.

  Finding it difficult to sleep on the flight, I twitched and turned, never getting comfortable. I continuously ran through every likely scenario that may take place in the morning. Finally, I fell into an alcohol-induced fitful doze.

  My flight landed on time and I called RP the second I emerged from customs.

  He said, “I’m sure you’ll be delighted to know the plan worked perfectly. Lynne told me the police intercepted Burrows and took him to an interview room with his baggage. Customs waved Alisha, Lynne and Georgie through. Lynne’s mother met them and I arranged a driver and car for them. I presume they’re home by now.”

  “Thank God! I’ll call DS Evans later today. I’m assuming Nick’ll be detained, won’t he? I wouldn’t like to meet him if he’s back on the streets. He must be blowing a gasket.”

  “He won’t be granted bail, James. What’s to stop him trying to abduct Georgie again? And the drugs charge is serious. Mind you, strange things happen. Let’s hope your DS has done his stuff.”

  I thanked him again, ended the call, and punched the air with excitement, yelling, “Yes!”

  When I called DS Evans later, he confirmed that Nick had been arrested for abducting a child and for drug dealing. Police bail had been denied.

  “Burrows realises he’s been duped. If he could get hold of you two, he’d throttle you both to death. He’s not a happy bunny.”

  He confirmed that he wouldn’t be taking any action over my blackmail attempt.

  A good day all round.

  CHAPTER SIX

  April 1996 – August 1998

  I decided not to contact Lynne until the next day. It would give her a chance to get back to something approaching normal life with Georgie.

  I called Margaret instead to get a handle on Lynne’s current state of mind. She confirmed that Lynne and Georgie both needed rest and that the experience had affected them badly.

  “Do you think they’re up to seeing me soon?”

  “I’d give it another few days if I were you. Lynne needs to get her head around what to say to you. She thought you were wonderful, James. You won her over. But then all this business with Nick. She can’t help but think if she’d never met you, none of this would have happened. You can see why she’s a bit confused, can’t you?”

  “Yes, I can,” I said. “I understand. That’s fine. Please give them my love. Tell her I’ll call her soon.”

  Of course, it wasn’t bloody fine. I ached to be with her, Georgie and the ‘Bump’.

  *

  Later that day, I received a call from Peter.

  “Can you pop in, James? Something’s cropped up you should know about.”

  “What is it?” I said.

  “It’s best discussed in person, I think.” He sounded on edge. I arrived in my office fifteen minutes later. Peter walked in looking hugely embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, James. I don’t know how to put this… the auditors have finished their audit. They’ve discovered a problem.”

  “What do you mean? Everything’s OK isn’t it?”

  “Well, no, actually it isn’t. It’s serious.” He couldn’t look me in the eye.

  “What the hell’s wrong, Peter?”

  “I hate to have to tell you, but we’ve been the victim of a major fraud in our car leasing division.”

  He explained that the auditors had discovered that payments from the finance company we used to fund the cars we subsequently leased out never reached our bank. They’d been siphoned off to a number of separate bank accounts in different names. The computer records had been hacked into and amended to cover the shortfall. The auditors called it a classic case of ‘teeming and lading’. Twenty cars were involved with a total value of well over half-a-million pounds. Just what I needed.

  “Who did this, Peter?”

  “There’s only one person who could have hacked into the computer; John Hartley.”

  “What? Our leasing manager? Surely not. He did well in the first few months, didn’t he? You, yourself described him as a born salesman. You said he could out-charm Prince Charming.”

  “I know. Maybe I trusted him too much. I let him get on with it. He appeared so… capable.”

  Suddenly it made sense. Two months earlier, in early February, shortly after our review meeting, when we’d praised his sales performance, Hartley had asked to see me.

  In his cultured voice, he’d said, “I’m afraid I have to resign with immediate affect. I’ve got a personal problem I need to sort out. I thought I ought to let you know.”

  He’d sounded genuinely contrite – totally the opposite of his cocky self.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, John. What problems? Anything we can do to help? I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I know. I’ve enjoyed it here. I don’t want it broadcast but my wife’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer. I need to be with her at this time.” His eyes welled up.

  I’d suggested several possible solutions, offering to keep his job open or allowing him to work from home for a while, but he’d rejected my offers.

  Although he’d proved a great success in the job, I never came to terms with his attitude. I now realised that when he’d bullied one of our staff it was probably to do with covering up the fraud.

  Furious with Peter, I yelled, “How the bloody hell did you allow this to happen? You’re the computer whizz. You should have ensured our programs were safe from hackers.”

  Staring down at the ground, he shuffled from foot to foot.

  “Christ, Peter!”

  “Do you want me to resign?”

  “No, of course not. Can we cover the loss?”

  “It’ll be difficult. I’ll have to talk to the bank, but I think so.”

  “What a bastard! Look, why don’t you check on Hartley’s whereabouts, try to contact him. It’s probably a useless exercise, but it’s worth a try.”

  My ego wouldn’t let me admit I’d been fooled. It represented a giant blot on our stewardship of the business, which we coveted. If news got out, I couldn’t face my fellow businessmen or the vehicle manufacturers. Bad enough that the bank had to be involved.

  I persuaded Peter not to call in the fraud squad. “We don’t need to magnify the problem and get unwelcome publicity,” I said. “Anyway, the money’s probably been spent or tucked away in a Swiss bank account by now.”

  Our auditors’ role was to provide an audit report for the sh
areholders, Peter and me, so no one else was involved.

  That evening, Peter visited Hartley’s address, only to find the place locked up with the curtains drawn. He spoke to a next-door neighbour, Mrs Matthews, who knew the Hartleys well.

  “Haven’t seen them lately. They just disappeared overnight. It’s unlike them not to let me know when they’re away.”

  Peter asked about Mrs Hartley’s health.

  “Cancer? No, she didn’t have cancer. She’d have told me. We shared a lot of stuff over the years.”

  *

  Next morning, I couldn’t wait any longer. I called Lynne. She sounded cool and matter-of-fact. I found it difficult to gauge whether she wanted to hear from me or not. But at least she agreed to see me that night.

  Opening the door, she smiled weakly, nothing like the smile she usually reserved for me. She looked as beautiful as ever, but the sparkle in her eyes, her best feature in my book, was missing.

  She still enthralled me. I hugged her and kissed her on the lips, taking her by surprise, pleased she didn’t rebuff me. I’d brought flowers and a bottle of non-alcoholic fizzy wine.

  Placing the bottle on the table, I said, “Thought we should celebrate your return by drinking fake champagne. What do you think?”

  “Why not? I’m just glad to be home. Thanks for the flowers.”

  She’d clearly made an effort to look good, wearing a long flowing dress, disguising the fact that she was nearly six months pregnant. I asked her how she felt.

  “Well, considering all that’s happened, not bad. A bit tired, that’s all. I’m going for a check-up next week. We’ll know if everything’s ok then.”

  “Good.” After I’d poured the ‘champagne’, I proposed a toast.

  “Congratulations on all of us returning home safely. You did a fantastic job on getting Nick to cooperate.”