Snatched

by Gillian Jackson

  ‘We spoke to Jamie Handley, your clerk at chambers. He was very helpful in supplying names of recent clients who lost their cases and those you’ve prosecuted. We’d like to go through some of them with you...’ DS Best was saying.

  ‘Do we need to do this now?’ Richard snapped. ‘I’ll be going in a few minutes; I need to go to the bathroom.’ He almost ran up the stairs.

  DS Best turned to Martha. ‘Does Richard talk much about his cases?’

  ‘Not really, it’s a completely alien field to me so I suppose I don’t encourage him to tell me about his work.’

  ‘Can you tell us how often he goes to London?’

  ‘About once a month. He usually goes straight from chambers on a Thursday evening and stays until Friday night, or sometimes Saturday morning if it’s been a long day.’

  ‘They must be very grateful for his help,’ Radford observed.

  ‘Yes, they are. He’s always happy to put something back into the system and there are always clients who can’t afford the fees.’

  ‘Don’t they get Legal Aid?’

  ‘If they’re eligible, yes, but in some civil cases, or immigration issues, that’s not always the case. I don’t really understand it. Richard will be able to explain it better than I can later, but if all goes well today you won’t need to look into our contacts, will you?’

  ‘If we catch the kidnappers, which is the outcome we’re all hoping for, then yes, we’ll be able to tie up the loose ends and make a prosecution. If they get away then our enquiries will continue, but hopefully with Danny safe at home.’ Radford smiled at her and then checked his watch.

  Richard remained upstairs until it was time to go. He looked pale when he came down and anxious, which was only to be expected. Martha momentarily felt sorry for him; he might have done some stupid things but he loved Danny just as much as she did, for which she was grateful, and she knew he was nervous about the exchange.

  An ominous clap of thunder made Martha shiver.

  ‘It’s time to go.’ Radford stood up suddenly. ‘Martha, if you could see your husband to the door, we’ll keep out of sight in case someone is watching the house.’

  She did as they asked. At the door Richard bent to kiss her cheek and she allowed him to do so, touching him lightly on the arm.

  ‘Be careful!’ she said. Martha had never felt so frightened in all her life; her husband and son were both in danger and she could only sit and wait.

  Richard’s car was parked on the drive. He pressed the key fob to open it and climbed into the driving seat. For a moment or so he appeared to be looking at his phone but he soon turned on the engine and drove up the path. The two detectives stood back from the window and watched him leave the drive until he disappeared from sight at the bend in the road. Martha turned and went back inside with a heavy heart and a lump in her throat.

  Radford smiled reassuringly at her and began to explain again what would happen. ‘Our vehicles are hidden at strategic points along the way, so we’ll have someone watching his every move. Try not to worry; hopefully this could be all over today.’

  She nodded, not trusting her voice to form an answer and then went into the lounge to sit and wait, knowing this would be the longest morning of her life.

  Martha left the lounge door open so she could still see into the hall and after ten minutes passed, DI Radford was on his mobile phone once more.

  ‘He should have passed you by now!’ the detective was saying, sounding rather anxious and then he finished the call abruptly and immediately made another.

  ‘Have you got eyes on our subject yet?’ Again he closed his phone and beckoned DS Best to follow him into the kitchen. They closed the door so Martha couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  Why do they shut me out? she thought angrily. Danny’s my son and this is my house! She barged into the kitchen to confront them.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘Richard’s only just left; surely nothing’s gone wrong already?’

  Both men looked at her, then at each other, before Radford answered. ‘Your husband’s gone off in the wrong direction, Martha. He’s not passed any of the vehicles waiting on route and he isn’t answering his phone.’

  Chapter 12

  As Richard hurried through the rain and into his car, he knew someone had been inside it. On the passenger seat was a cheap, black phone, which he’d never seen before, holding down a sheet of paper. He fumbled with the paper, dropping the phone in the process. Richard was on edge when he really needed to be calm and think rationally. His first instinct was to return to the house and tell the police that someone had broken into his car, but instead he read the note.

  At the end of the street head south, not north and then pull into the Red Lion car park. Wait for further instructions. No police!

  This was contrary to the previously arranged instructions and Richard would be headed in completely the opposite direction. Still, the Red Lion was little more than a mile away, so he put the key in the ignition and moved off, as was expected of him.

  The rain was heavy now and the wipers struggled to keep the windscreen clear, making visibility poor. Once at the car park he didn’t have long to wait before the phone rang and he instantly recognised the voice of the man he’d spoken to the day before.

  ‘Step out of the car, with the money,’ the man instructed. ‘Go to the hedge where you’ll see a black bin liner. Take all the money out of your holdall and put it in the black sack. Throw the holdall over the hedge and your own phone with it, then get back inside the car and wait.’

  The call ended abruptly.

  Richard did as he was instructed, thankful that it was early enough for no one to see his furtive actions. After transferring the money, which seemed to take ages, he threw the holdall and reluctantly, his phone, over the hedge, took the black sack and got back into the car. He was soaked through to his skin and shivering with both cold and fear.

  Two long minutes passed before the phone rang again.

  ‘Drive ten miles south to the village of High Coatham and park outside the village post office.’

  That was all.

  He wanted to ask if Danny was with him and if he was okay, but the kidnapper was short and to the point. Left with no other choice but to obey these new instructions and with his hands trembling, he started the car and moved off. Richard thought of all the arrangements the police had made, the hidden officers at strategic points on route to the village of Little Stainsbeck, when he would be nearly thirty miles away in the opposite direction. Without his own phone he couldn’t ring the police to let them know about the changes and he didn’t dare risk use the kidnapper’s phone in case they rang him.

  By the time he’d covered the first three miles to High Coatham, he’d convinced himself that not having the police watching his every move was perhaps for the best. His respect, and fear, of the kidnappers had grown to some degree. They guessed, correctly, that the holdall with the money inside also held a tracking device. Removing this from the equation eliminated all police involvement, as did making him throw away his own phone. Richard attempted to lift his mood by telling himself that there was now less to go wrong and the transaction would be swift and, hopefully, uncomplicated.

  At six-forty am, he pulled up in front of the village post office and turned off the engine. It was pretty much a one-street village, with the post office being the only commercial premises within sight. The heavy rain bounced noisily off the car roof as he settled down for another wait, still trembling, and now wondering if he’d done the right thing by obeying the kidnappers instead of the police.

  His eyes darted back and forth, searching for someone approaching the car, but the only moving thing in the village was a black cat, making his way lazily across the road in spite of the rain.

  Four minutes passed and then the phone rang again.

  ‘Are you in place?’ the voice asked.

  ‘Yes. Where are you and where�
��s my son?’ Richard was tense as well as afraid. He felt very much on his own now.

  ‘Start the engine, begin to drive and leave the phone open beside you so I can direct you to where I want you to be.’

  ‘This is ridiculous. Where’s Danny? I’ve brought your money, now give me my son!’

  ‘Losing your temper won’t get you anywhere. Do you still want to do this, or shall we leave it a few more days?’ The man sounded cold and calculating. Richard thought he was probably enjoying messing with his mind.

  ‘No, I want Danny back now. Where do I go next?’

  ‘That’s better, much more reasonable. Drive out of the village and join the dual carriageway at the roundabout. About a mile up the road is a lay-by. Pull into it and wait, but keep the phone line open.’

  Smart, Richard thought, that way he couldn’t use it to call anyone and give away his destination. He pulled away from the village and headed towards the dual carriageway. There was a smattering of early morning vehicles, commuters heading to work, leaving early to avoid the heavy traffic. Less than a mile ahead he saw the signs for the lay-by and pulled in as instructed. They’d chosen the spot well — shrubs and trees gave a good degree of privacy and the car couldn’t be seen from the road. He turned the engine off and picked up the phone.

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Good,’ the man said. ‘Now, get the money out and put it on the verge, near the litter bin.’

  ‘But where are you — where’s Danny?

  ‘I’m behind you.’

  Richard turned sharply to see a white Ford Transit van pull up behind him. The adrenaline coursed through his veins and for a moment he wanted to rush at the van and strangle the man who had taken his son. But his rational mind quickly took over. There were two men in the van, so he was outnumbered and physical violence had never been his thing.

  The van’s number plate was covered by some kind of sacking and the men inside both wore character masks. As Richard placed the bag on the verge, the man with the John Prescott mask, jumped out of the van and snatched it up.

  ‘Where’s Danny?’ Richard tried to grab the man by the arm but the second man, hidden behind a Tony Blair mask, jumped out and aimed a gun at his head, freezing him to the spot.

  ‘When we’ve counted it we’ll let your son go. Relax.’ The man was toying with him. Richard was terrified, his hands were clammy and he was sweating profusely in spite of the cold day. The money was short and it wouldn’t take them long to find out. The dilemma was whether to tell them now, or let them find out for themselves. He decided on the first option, hoping that being up front with them would put them in a better mood than letting them leave and find the discrepancy later.

  ‘There’s as much there as I could get. It’s a hundred and ninety thousand — please just take it and let Danny go!’

  ‘You’ve had plenty of bloody time to get the money together! Aren’t you taking this seriously?’ The man in the Tony Blair mask stepped forward, pointing the gun directly at Richard.

  ‘Yes, of course I am, but it’s a difficult time for me at the moment. Please, just take the money and let him go! He’s just a little boy, he’ll be afraid — please!’ Richard would have gone down on his knees if he thought it would have helped.

  ‘Don’t be such a bloody fool! We have your son and it seems we need to hurt him before you take this seriously!’ The man in the Tony Blair mask was doing all the talking and still held the gun frighteningly close to Richard’s head.

  ‘No, please don’t hurt him. I can get you the rest; I just need more time!’

  ‘And why should we babysit your son in the meantime?’ the man barked.

  ‘Let him go. I’ll still give you the rest of the money. I’ve been honest and told you, haven’t I? Please trust me,’ Richard begged.

  ‘You have forty-eight hours and the clock’s ticking. But I think we should have a little more money for our inconvenience. Shall we say another ten thousand on top of the balance owing? Keep the phone but don’t tell the police you have it. If you do, Danny will suffer for it! We’ll be in touch.’

  With that the men climbed back into their van, overtook Richard’s car and sped away, leaving him staring blankly after them, devastated and physically trembling. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Martha would say and how the police would react to his fooling them. And he now had to find another hundred and twenty thousand in only forty-eight hours. How on earth could he manage to raise such an amount?

  Chapter 13

  To say that DI Radford was livid was more than an understatement but he was clearly doing his best to remain calm and rational. Having phoned some of the officers who were watching the route it was obvious that for some reason, Richard had purposely driven off in the wrong direction.

  Martha watched the detective anxiously. ‘What’s going on? Why would he take a different route?’

  ‘I don’t know but we still have the tracker in the holdall,’ Radford replied. ‘We’ll know where he is at all times.’

  Suni was monitoring the tracker and interrupted to tell her boss that the car had stopped less than a mile away. Radford and Best ran from the house, keeping in touch with Suni on the phone. Suni relayed to Martha that the tracker remained in the same position and when the detectives had arrived at the Red Lion car park, it was to find that Richard’s car was nowhere in sight. They searched the area and eventually spotted the holdall on the other side of the hedge, empty, except for the tracker. Richard’s phone was on the wet grass beside it.

  The detectives returned to the house and Martha glared at Radford, blaming him for losing her husband. It seemed like a lifetime until Richard pulled into the drive. Martha ran out of the house, desperate to see if Danny was with him. As her husband stepped from the car, alone, she began to wail and pummel him with her fists.

  ‘Where’s Danny! You’re supposed to have Danny!’ she shouted.

  Suni tried to pull her off and between her and Richard, they steered her towards the house.

  ‘Let’s not make a scene in the street,’ Richard spoke wearily.

  ‘Who cares about that! I want my son, I want Danny!’ Martha was on the point of collapse and they half carried her inside where they sat her on the sofa.

  ‘Where is he?’ she sobbed.

  ‘They’ve still got him; they want the rest of the money and some more...’ Richard was soaked, pale and exhausted and after discarding his wet coat and shoes, he too flopped down on the sofa.

  Radford immediately began to question him. ‘We need you to tell us everything that happened this morning, starting with when you got into the car. What made you go in the opposite direction?’

  Richard was visibly trembling and it was obvious that the encounter with the kidnappers had scared him more than he would care to admit. Martha sobbed quietly as she listened, gasping when he mentioned the gun. She wanted to scream at her husband, to make him pay for not bringing Danny home, but she couldn’t muster the energy. When Richard finished relating the story, Radford began to ask questions, none of which he could answer.

  ‘They were wearing masks; I couldn’t see their faces at all!’ he told them.

  ‘So where’s the phone they put in your car?’ Radford asked.

  ‘They took it off me in the lay-by,’ Richard said.

  ‘So now you’ll have to raise another hundred and twenty thousand — any idea how you’ll do that?’ Radford looked at Richard and then at Martha. Neither of them answered.

  After DI Radford and DS Best left, Martha went upstairs, while Richard showered, leaving Suni alone downstairs, working on her laptop. Martha went straight to her own study and switched on her laptop. She knew that her husband would be hurting just as much as she was herself, but there was no desire within her to comfort him. Justified or not, she felt that he was to blame for Danny not being home with them. It was anybody’s guess now what the police would do, other than wait another forty-eight seemingly interminable ho
urs. Martha, however, got to work, determined to succeed where her husband had failed.

  After an hour, she went to find Richard, who was stretched out on their bed, his arms covering his face. For an instant she felt sorry for him; he was pale and when he lowered his arms she could tell he’d been crying, something she’d never known him do before.

  ‘It’s sorted,’ she told him.

  ‘What? What’s sorted?’

  ‘The money. It should be in our account tomorrow, so we’d better call the manager and arrange to withdraw it, in cash.’

  ‘But how, where...’ Richard was stunned.

  ‘I’ve taken a loan out and don’t tell me that the interest is exorbitant, I already know that, but I’ll happily pay it if it means we get Danny home.’

  Richard sighed. He asked Martha if she wanted him to ring the bank to arrange the withdrawal, but she refused.

  ‘I’ll ring them — at least then I’ll know it’s done.’

  Martha rang the bank manager and was assured that everything would be in place the following morning for them to make a cash withdrawal. She then rang her mother, knowing she’d be anxious for news and anticipating that Danny would be home. It was a difficult call and Elaine Perry repeated her offer of coming to Bristol to be with them. As tactfully as possible, Martha declined the offer, telling her that the house was continually full of police and there was very little she could do if she was there. Ending the call with a promise to let her mother know as soon as Danny was safe, she felt drained and ventured downstairs, feeling that for once she’d be glad of Suni’s constant offers of coffee; it had been a long and traumatic morning.