by Carol Wyer
I tried the rest of the place but it was equally unsuitable so in the end I settled for rope, cable ties and duct tape.
Rachel began to groan so I tied her up and plastered enough tape on her mouth to keep her quiet. It gave me particular pleasure to tape up her mouth. She’s a most irritating creature and I detest the way she looks at me sometimes as if she sees something distasteful in me. When we last met at the coffee house I spent some of the time fantasising about pouring boiling coffee down her throat so I wouldn’t have to listen to her whiny voice. At least now I get to shut her up for a while. Long enough for me to get away.
I laugh at the fact that Abby thinks Rachel is involved with Lucas in this. She’s let her imagination really run away with her this time. Rachel is far too goody-goody for that sort of behaviour. Her bedroom stinks of that oil new age people love so much and she’s got crystals hanging from a mirror propped up on a dressing table. There’s some strange thing over her bed. I think it’s a dreamcatcher. I’ve heard about them. Now that’s one thing I would hate to have. I wouldn’t want to catch any of my dreams – they are far too horrible.
I leave Rachel none the wiser as to why she’s been attacked. I thought about making it look like a robbery but there is nothing I can break, steal or rob, so I leave empty-handed apart from the key to her car. Izzy is sobbing in my car when I return. I cheer her up by jangling Rachel’s car keys at her. She’s delighted we are going to change vehicle.
A fizzing sensation has begun in the pit of my stomach. I am getting so close to completing my mission. My father is equally excited. He whispers a quiet ‘bravo’ as we leave Reading Road and we both hum along to the radio as we prepare to meet Natasha Matthews for the last time.
* * *
The house is still as imposing as it was the day Mum and I arrived. I hated it before I set foot in the place. Mum was all giggly and happy and full of excitement. ‘It’s a new beginning,’ she said as she unloaded the suitcases from the taxi. Paul came rushing out to greet us, happiness bubbling from every pore in his skin.
‘You’re earlier than I expected,’ he said, kissing Mum on the lips and holding her to him. He then noticed me. ‘Hello, Alice, welcome to your new home. I’m sure you’ll love it here.’
I glowered at him and I could hear Mr Big Ears sneer from under my arm. I was never going to call this place home. It would never be my home.
I use the key I have had for many years. I stole Geraldine Marsh’s key. I literally bumped into her in the village and removed it from her coat pocket as I brushed past her. She never suspected a thing and I’m sure Paul Matthews never doubted it was lost by accident. There will be no cleaner or visitors viewing the house. I have thought of everything. I phoned the estate agent last week and claimed I was a lawyer, Miss Susannah Harrison, representing Natasha Matthews, who was challenging Paul Matthews’ will, and I requested they withdrew the property until the estate was settled.
I didn’t need to phone Geraldine and tell her her services were no longer required. I dealt with her when she almost discovered me at the house. One steep staircase, one frightened old lady and one hefty push. That solved that issue. She might have recognised me from the village in her dying moments but I’ll never know.
There is no challenge to the will, of course. I’m going to destroy the house and its memories. I shall burn it down along with Natasha when she arrives. I transported some cans of petrol out here two days ago and I shall soak the place after I’ve had a chat to the woman who was going to be my half-sister.
I use the downstairs cloakroom to take off my glasses with their clear lenses that have been part of my disguise the last few years, and remove my contact lenses. The brown eyes and spectacles and all the piercings seem to have fooled Natasha. It’s good to dispose of them at last. She has never once suspected who I really am. She’ll know soon enough.
I check over the stun gun I brought from the car and consider employing it on her. I used it on Lucas. I zapped him quite a few times until he begged me to stop. I didn’t though. I held the stun gun against his chest and held it there while he jigged about like a dancing marionette, his face contorted in agony until he dropped, like someone had cut his strings. His heart gave out. Pity. I had hoped to cut his balls off while he was alive. Still, I put them where they belonged. I had to kill your depraved brother, Natasha. It was inevitable. He persisted in ruining young girl’s lives. He abused those he taught too. He was an evil man who should have been stopped years ago. I was too young then to stand up for myself, but now, now I have taken charge. He deserved to die. I wish it had been a more horrible death.
I’m not sorry about your father’s ‘accident’ either. He deserved it. He shouldn’t have booted my mum and me out. He was so concerned that the demonic girl he had brought under his roof was going to harm his precious boy, he didn’t think about what he was doing. He should have been more caring.
I walk through the hall, looking in at each reception room. Paul has changed nothing in the house. It is almost as I remember it. It even smells the same. I amble up the stairs to Natasha’s old bedroom. It looks the same as it did all those years ago. I don’t go into Lucas’s room but I am sure it has been left too. A shrine to two ungrateful, cruel children. You should have let me stay, Paul. You turfed out the wrong person. I refrain from spitting at Lucas’s door.
Paul was off the wall too. Fancy not redecorating or getting in new furniture in all these years. The only thing he seems to have done is put locks on the doors. If only he’d done that beforehand.
I return downstairs to fetch Izzy. I fed her earlier and she gurgles when she sees me coming back. It’s odd but it feels like she’s my daughter at the moment. I pick her up and she crows in delight. She might like to see my old room, and Mr Big Ears wants to read her a story. There’s plenty of time left before I raze the place to the ground.
66
Robyn dialled Claire’s number. Claire picked up after three rings.
‘Hello, Detective Inspector Carter,’ she said politely.
‘Claire, where are you?’
‘I’m on my way back from Scotland, as I told you,’ she replied.
‘I know you’re not. We’ve spoken to the owner of Squirrel Lodge. He has confirmed that a woman called Janet Foxton is staying there. She said you offered her a free holiday in the cottage. And then there’s Rachel Croft. She saw you. She told us you attacked her and she heard Izzy crying. The game’s up, Claire.’
There was a silence during which Robyn felt her heart palpitate.
‘Have you got Izzy with you at the moment?’ she asked evenly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I haven’t. I’m just north of Newcastle. I should be with you by teatime. I’ll make sure I come and visit you before I go and see Abby.’
‘Claire, you can stop pretending now. We know the licence plate number of the car you are driving and we can track you using automatic number-plate recognition. You haven’t passed any of the ANPR points along the A9 or A1 to Newcastle upon Tyne so you are not where you say you are. I have officers hunting you down. We are aware you driving Rachel’s car and I can assure you that we will not be long in discovering your actual whereabouts and deploying a team to apprehend you. Please return here before that happens. Bring the child with you. You don’t want to make her stressed and upset. She’s only a baby. Hand her back, Claire. She needs her mother.’
Claire spluttered. ‘I don’t have Izzy. Go ahead. Track my car. I have nothing to hide. I’m not the guilty party here, Detective. Maybe you should find out exactly what Abigail is hiding.’
‘What do you mean, Claire?’
The connection was severed. Robyn redialled but the line was now dead. Claire had turned off her mobile and probably removed the battery.
‘Did you get a location?’ she asked PC Warrington.
He shook his head. ‘She cut off before we pinpointed it. Sorry.’
Robyn thumped the desk with the palm of her hand. Ross stood b
ack against the door, arms folded, his face impassive. The other three occupants of the room kept their heads down. DCI Corrance was getting increasingly frustrated by the slow progress. He suddenly stood up and started pacing around the room, barking instructions at them all. The tension between him and Robyn was palpable.
Robyn balled her fist and banged it against her head lightly. She was running out of time.
‘So what now? Any more bright ideas, Carter?’ asked DCI Corrance.
‘I’m thinking, sir,’ she said, trying to maintain a professional attitude in spite of wanting to yell at him.
There was a knock on the door. The desk sergeant appeared. ‘Excuse me, guv. We pulled Thomas Keeper of no fixed abode. He was apparently paid fifty quid to steal a handbag, run away with it and drop it. We showed him the photograph of Claire Lewis and he identified her as the woman who had paid him the money.’
‘Great, so now we are all completely convinced that Claire Lewis has abducted Isobel Thorne but we have no idea where she is. Terrific.’
In the corner of the room, a woman in her thirties came off the phone and coughed quietly. ‘We’ve hit another snag,’ said the woman, looking at Robyn apologetically. ‘Just received a report that the vehicle passed an ANPR point on the M40 fifty minutes ago. It’s now parked at Beaconsfield Service station.’
‘What? How come we didn’t get this information earlier?’ said Corrance, a rich flush rising up his neck. ‘Is she still at the service station?’
‘Officers were immediately dispatched and have searched the station but there’s no sign of her, or the child. We believe she’s left the area.’
‘So how has she escaped from the service station? Hitched a lift? Jumped in a friend’s car? Get hold of the CCTV footage. She must be on it somewhere. She can’t hide from all the cameras. See if she has the baby with her too. Carter, take over.’
There was an inaudible collective sigh as Corrance stormed out of the room.
Robyn shook her head in disbelief. This was going horribly wrong.
Ross crossed the room. ‘Robyn, take it easy. You’re taking it personally,’ he said quietly.
‘She’s playing with me. She’s messing me about and I hate that. How dare she? What worries me is what she might have done to Izzy. I can’t let her get away with this.’ She glared into space. Davies would know how to fathom out where the wretched woman was going. How she wished he were here to ask his advice.
Her mobile buzzed. She snatched it from the desk and barked into it, ‘Carter.’
‘Detective Carter? It’s Jackson Thorne. I’m at my wits’ end. Abigail has gone. She took off while I was out and I can’t get hold of her. I think she might be out looking for Izzy or have had contact from the kidnapper. I can’t get hold of her.’
‘We’ll be right there.’
She picked up her bag and signalled to Ross. ‘Come on. We’re needed. It’s urgent. I just hope we’re not too late.’
67
Now
‘Oh dear, Izzy. I think I’ve upset Detective Inspector Carter. Never mind. She’ll get over it.’
What a shame she worked out that I am not in Scotland. I had set that up so well, too. I booked and paid for the cottage under my name and gave the week’s rent away. There are lots of closed groups on Facebook looking for freebies or prizes. I offered the holiday to the members of one group, saying I couldn’t go due to illness. Janet Foxton was elated. You would have thought she’d won the lottery when I told her she could have a few days in a pretty lodge in Scotland for free. The only proviso was she told the owner she was Claire Lewis, so as not to negate the booking.
I am a genius. Who else would have thought to dispose of Rachel’s car at a service station and swap into another vehicle? I arranged to collect the four-year-old Kia I bought online from Beaconsfield service station. The bloke selling it was only too happy to drive it there and hand it over; after all, I’d already paid him over the odds for it. I left Rachel’s car parked neatly out of the way and met up with Darryl Bolt at the café as arranged. Within ten minutes I had the papers and keys to the Kia. I know all about number-plate-recognition cameras and CCTV. We are a nation watched all the time. My disguise as a redhead hippy should fool CCTV cameras for a while. I got the idea from looking at Rachel. I dressed in a long faded skirt and a peasant blouse I swiped from Rachel’s wardrobe while she was out cold, and wrapped a small flowered headscarf around Izzy’s head. She looked super cute. Anyway, the police won’t be able to work out which car I’m in now and that gives me the upper hand.
Detective Inspector Carter sounds decidedly miffed with me. She knows damn fine I have Natasha’s daughter but I’m not going to make life easy for her. I watched the clock to ensure I wasn’t on my phone for longer than a minute, and then chopped the signal. I was sure they’d be trying to trace my call. Who hasn’t seen that happen on a detective drama?
Izzy and I have been watching the birds on the reservoir. She got very excited when she saw them feeding by the hide. I think she likes nature too. What a shame she won’t live long enough to enjoy it.
It’s time to trap Natasha. I can’t access the camera in her house any longer so I suppose it’s been unearthed. I can’t see if she’s at home or with Jackson. I have to hope I have caught her alone and call her. I use my voice-altering device to speak to her. I don’t need to use it any longer but I quite enjoy it. It adds a sinister air to proceedings. Natasha picks up immediately.
‘Izzy lives or dies depending on you. Tell no one and meet me in three hours. Alone.’
She sobs, ‘Please don’t hurt her. She’s so little. It’s not her fault. Please don’t.’
‘Three hours, Natasha. Time is ticking.’
‘Where?’
‘Where do you think? Where it all began, Natasha. Where it all began.’
She sobs some more and I cut her off, even though I would love to hear her blub and beg.
I look at Izzy. She’s sitting next to Mr Big Ears the Third and playing with a large yellow plastic ring. She’s so sweet and innocent. Best to keep her that way.
‘Mummy’s coming. Isn’t that lovely? You, me and Mummy.’
She looks up and me and grins.
68
‘I don’t know when she left or where she’s going. I’ve tried her mobile three times and left messages.’
‘When did you last have contact with her?’
‘After you left, we had another row. She said if I had checked the smoke alarms to make sure they functioned properly then we would have known one was fake. I got mad. I work every hour I can. When I get home, I’m tired and I don’t get much chance to switch off from it. It’s not like I can come home and sit in front of the football and forget the lousy day I had in the office. I have flight plans to file and the business is nearly always on my mind. I don’t have time for household chores or things like pressing smoke alarm buttons.’ He spat out the last few words. The stress of the situation was taking its toll badly on him. ‘I shouted at her and went off for a walk. I only went to the duck pond and sat for a while until I had calmed down. I hadn’t intended being a long time but there’s been a lot said today and I had to digest it all.’ He scrubbed at his chin. ‘I figured I was being unreasonable and returned to try and smooth things out. We need to work as a unit. We have always been a team. I don’t want it all to be shattered because of tension and angry words.’
He looked about the room as if Abigail and Izzy would magically reappear.
‘It’s a nightmare,’ he said, eventually. ‘A nightmare.’
‘Abigail left at about the time you were at the duck pond and you didn’t see her car pass you?’
‘I didn’t see a soul.’
‘Ross, call the station and ask for ANPR on Abigail’s car. Jackson, stay here in case she returns. She might have gone out because she was angry.’
Jackson shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t have left the house. She was determined to stay here in case somebody brought back Izzy
.’
‘Then she has either been taken against her will or she heard from the kidnapper. Come on, Ross. Time is of the essence.’
‘Her car’s been spotted on the M3 headed northbound to the M25,’ said Ross, mobile in his hand as he got into the car.
Robyn pressed her lips together as she drove at speed in the direction of the motorway. Ross waited for her to speak.
‘I’m going off piste with this idea,’ she said after a moment. ‘You in or out?’
‘In. Hit me.’
‘Abigail could be driving to Paul Matthews’ old house.’
‘That’s a possibility but she could also be going anywhere in the country at the moment.’
‘I agree, but Alice Forman is behind this. And she harbours huge resentment about what happened in that house. I think she’s there or somewhere near the house and she has told Abigail to join her.’
‘Okay. That’s logical. Why not call Mitz Patel and get him to check it out? Or, Mulholland? You don’t need to charge up there yourself.’
Robyn shook her head. ‘Mulholland wasn’t keen for me to upset the local police in Farnborough and will ask me to call it in and check with their DCI. He’s not going to agree. You’ve seen him. He makes a T-Rex look friendly and I don’t think he’ll agree with my thoughts. Besides, he’ll want to send his officers and that wouldn’t be a good idea. Alice is cunning but volatile. Seeing police arrive could trigger something inside her. Similarly, I could ask Mitz to visit the house; after all, he’s not far away; but if Alice spots him, she might kill Izzy, that is, if she hasn’t already done so. I don’t want to frighten her off or anger her. She obviously wants Abigail to join her as part of her plan and that gives us a chance to intervene if we get a move on. We also need to reach Alice before Abigail gets there. Heaven knows what will happen to her if we don’t.’