Chasing Innocence

by Potter, John

  ‘Your dedication is commendable. How is Ricardo?’

  ‘Lonely.’

  ‘Really? I’m sorry, Helen.’

  ‘Don’t be, Fran, I was only joking. Ricky probably won’t realise I’m missing until he gets hungry, the fridge is full so that won’t be until four at the earliest. He’s on the home straight for his PhD.’

  ‘What’s he doing this time?’

  ‘Industrial Psychology.’

  ‘Wasn’t that what he did last time?’

  ‘No, part of his masters was Cognitive Psychology, we did it together. He’s focusing on engineering now. His plan is world domination and five children.’

  ‘Five!’

  ‘What can I say, we’re both Catholic. Anything under four is considered a poor show.’

  TWENTY-NINE

  Adam took Brian’s instructions with a nod and walked away, merging with the crowd. Brian waited and looked around. Delamere was busy. The car park was full of four-by-fours and family cars, camper vans and low-lying coupés. Inside it was even busier. People were everywhere.

  Brian felt good, the cutting pain across his back now suppressed to a needling ache, although wearing Adam’s hand-me-downs he felt like a dog in a collar for the first time. He checked to make sure Adam had not turned back then stepped across the concourse to a door marked Staff Only. He tried the handle but it was locked, so he knocked and waited, not expecting it to open although you never knew. It stayed closed. So he tracked back outside and around the building, stepping from the pavement over shrubs and through shingle. There was always somebody out back and today was no exception.

  The guy was big, once he might have been muscled big, now it was more Humpty Dumpty. He was wearing a neatly pressed white shirt with dark shoulder loops, a matching tie held in place by a golden pin, the shirt neatly tucked into dark belted trousers. Brian wondered at that; if you were overweight and took the time to look smart, surely you would take the time to lose a bit of weight.

  The guard looked up, took a last long drag on a half-finished cigarette and moved back inside. Brian caught the door just before it closed. He affected a polite, enquiring tone.

  ‘I wondered if I might trouble you with some questions.’

  The guard stopped as he reached for a door opposite, turning without moving the lower half of his body. ‘If you’re from the local press you’re wasting your time. Nothing’s happened here.’

  ‘I’m not from the press.’ Brian stepped fully into the small space, taking a quick look at the gold badge on the guard’s chest.

  ‘I just need a minute of your time, Steve, that’s all.’

  The guard’s eyes followed the door as it swung closed behind Brian and the lock clicked. The small room was now lit by a dim bulb above. ‘You’re not allowed in here. Now you’ve gone and let the door close. It can only be opened from inside the control room.’

  ‘Is that a fact?’ said Brian. ‘Maybe we could have a quick chat then, just as long as it takes you to get the door open. Then I’ll be gone.’

  ‘You can’t come inside. We have our security systems in here. Wait there.’

  The guard pulled a chain from his pocket, shuffling keys. Finally he pulled the door open and backed through, warily watching Brian, who waited until the door was almost closed then took one long quick stride. He wrenched it open, immediately stepping through and slapping both hands hard on the guard’s fleshy chest, forcing him backwards, off balance, feet working double time to catch up. After that it was simply a matter of maintaining momentum, marching into a brightly lit room. For a moment Brian worried Steve might go straight through the partitioned wall and sprawling across the concourse. The wall bowed, a two-way mirror shimmered and Steve came to a stop as a thin man in a similar uniform leapt up from his chair.

  ‘What the fuck!’

  Brian angled himself between the door and the two men. ‘Now keep cool there guys. I’m not here to hurt anyone or cause trouble. I will though if you start fucking about. I’ve a few questions and I’ll be on my way.’

  The second guard was young, wearing an oversized uniform. His big eyes glared out from beneath a black turban. A silver name tag stated his name was Sachgian. His voice was high pitched and edgy.

  ‘All I gotta do mister is press that button there and the police will come running, then we’ll see about some questions.’ He looked meaningfully at his desk.

  Brian smiled widely back at him. ‘You go for it.’

  The young guard’s body swayed and his expression shifted to uncertain. Brian took a quick glance around the room and then from one guard to the other.

  ‘You’ve got a lot of kit in here. I take it those screens are recording everything that happens?’

  Both guards blinked in unison and then Sachgian answered. ‘It’s not the screens that do the recording, they just shows the pictures.’

  ‘Is that right, so where’re the tapes from last night?’

  The guards both blinked again. Steve answered.

  ‘The police, we gave the recordings to the police.’

  ‘That so?’ Brian took a step towards Steve.

  ‘Yup, s’pect you could ask them, I’m sure they’d lend them to you.’

  ‘S’pect they would, Stevie boy, especially if they keep shop like you two slackers. Now tell me, what do those boxes under the tables do?’

  ‘They’re computers,’ Sachgian answered.

  The two-way mirror bowed as Steve straightened his shirt and rearranged his belt. ‘And there’s nothing on them you’re getting your hands on. We’re just going to stand here and wait. Let us know when you want to leave and we’ll show you out. We’ll then hand the CCTV of you to the police.’ He nodded over Brian’s shoulder. ‘If you feel like getting a bit rough that works as well, if you could be so kind as to hit me first. I’m not allowed to initiate force.’

  Brian re-appraised Steve and took a step back, looking over his shoulder at a camera mounted above the door. He turned back. ‘You know, I came in here being all polite and all you guys had to do was answer a few questions.’

  ‘We’re answering no questions. Not to you.’ Steve said.

  ‘Is that so, you fat fuck, you and I both know that camera is nothing but a toy.’

  ‘If that’s what you’d like to think, feel free. Makes no difference to me.’

  ‘I know that camera’s just for show, Stevie boy, because you guys don’t want anybody knowing what you get up to here. I know a bunch of guys like you. They spend their lives cooped up in holes like this. It’s why I was being polite, they’re mostly OK guys. But they’re always scheming to make a few extra quid, just can’t help themselves in a place like this.’

  Both guards glared back at him.

  ‘So what is it, knocked off DVDs? A camera in the ladies? Maybe you’re on a retainer, looking after the girls working the hotel. Recreational drugs on the side? There’s always something and I couldn’t care less what it is. All I have is a few questions, then I’m gone and you’ll never see me again.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’ Steve drew in a long breath and blew it out hard, launching himself towards Brian with one large arm arcing around and upwards, a silver knuckleduster clasped in his hand.

  On the whole Brian considered it an impressive move, no over-emphasis by moving his legs or dropping a shoulder. All the power came from balance. With the addition of the knuckleduster, it was a sure-fire lights out Brian Dunstan. Except Steve’s problem, despite his technique, was generating power and disguising the movement. The energy rippled across all that fat and gave Brian all sorts of time to react. He went passive, stepping back and sideways, deflecting the blow with his open palm. The impact forced Steve’s hand open, sending the knuckleduster flying over Brian’s shoulder and clanging noisily off a desk and wall and pin-wheeling back into the air. By the time it thumped onto the floor he had wrenched Steve’s arm around and turned it back on itself, the pain forcing him to the ground. Brian gave Sachgian a completely unn
ecessary back-off stare and focused his attention on Steve, now gasping and scrabbling for leverage against the floor and wall.

  ‘Now look here Steve. This is not what I want. I admire your attitude but I repeat, I’m not here to hurt you or ruin what you’ve got going. So, are you going to stop fucking me about because next time I won’t be so gentle.’

  Steve nodded and patted the ground like a defeated wrestler, rolling on the floor as Brian released him. He slowly heaved himself up with the help of a chair and immediately brushed himself down.

  ‘You’re not a nice person, you know that?’

  ‘Yeah, well, thanks for the scoop. Now sit in that chair and don’t go making any sudden movements.’ Steve stepped over to his desk and sat down.

  ‘Now are you two going to answer a few questions?’

  Steve nodded slowly.

  ‘Good. For starters I suspect you guys spent a lot of time today talking to the police.’

  Steve nodded at Sachgian. ‘He has. I did the early shift yesterday.’

  Brian stepped over to Sachgian who looked at him fiercely for a handful of seconds and then stared down at his feet. ‘What were they asking about?’

  ‘They…they wanted to know if there’d been any disturbances. What coverage our cameras have. Said they were looking for a woman and a young girl.’

  ‘Did they?’ Brian looked out through the two-way mirror, looking for Adam as Sachgian continued.

  ‘Yeah, they wanted copies of everything we had on the car park and inside from five last night to midnight. We had a couple of pickpockets doing the rounds as well.’

  ‘Part of an organised crew?’ His attention back on the young guard.

  ‘Nah, we saw them once last year and twice this month. Only difference was they tried taking this woman’s bag, some passing beefcake came to her rescue. We never saw no young girl. Not one with the woman. The police were right interested in her, wanted footage of everything, took up almost a whole DV…’ His mouth clamped closed.

  ‘DV what?’ Brian asked, unfolding his arms.

  Sachgian looked sideways at Steve, then fixed his gaze on the wall behind Brian. Brian took a good look around the room, the shelves and stacks of plastic cases.

  ‘DVD, is that what you were going to say? Thought you said it was on tape?’

  ‘No,’ Steve said from his chair. ‘You asked where the tapes were, we didn’t correct you.’

  ‘So which is it?’

  Sachgian answered. ‘Security systems haven’t used video for years, the quality isn’t good enough. You can have someone bang to rights and they’ll still deny it’s them and there’s nothing anyone can do.’

  ‘So DVDs like in movies you rent?’ Brian asked. ‘Happy Feet and all that?’

  ‘I suppose so, if that’s your thing.’ Sachgian scratched at his chin. ‘Each camera takes a single high-definition picture every second and stores that on disk. We pick out the required timeline and burn it to DVD.’

  Brian smiled and clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent, I’ll take two copies like you made for the police. Stevie boy can do that. And make sure you don’t mess me about because if you do I’ll be back to haunt this place. Same goes for calling the police when I’m gone.’

  Without acknowledging him Steve slowly stood and reached up to a shelf, pulling down a stack of DVD cases.

  ‘While you’re doing that I have a few more questions for young Sachgian here, about last night.’

  THIRTY

  Simon leaned over the slumped body of the child. She was so peaceful and innocent and so beautiful, even with a tear-stained face and red splotches around sore eyes. She was so small, yet already something of the woman she might be. His need shifted inside of him, a craving that he fought in the prolonged dark of closed eyes. But the need won and he reached out, stroking stray hairs from her face, his fingers across the soft skin of flushed cheeks.

  ‘Stop that, Simon, there will be time enough.’ Hakan picked up the syringe from the floor. ‘She is ready?’

  ‘She is.’ Simon stepped back from the sofa. ‘She’s very loyal to her father, but in time she’ll have no choice but to believe us, we know too much about him.’

  ‘Good, then you’d better get the woman. It is time to cut off the loose ends.’

  Simon carefully scooped the child into his arms, shifting her head onto his shoulder and her weight onto his forearm. He carried her through to the hallway and out through a doorway into the garage.

  Hakan pulled his phone from his leather jacket, keying in a number and watching the screen. He began pacing an elliptical path around the living room, turning the syringe over and over. He was tired, none of them had slept. For the first time in a long time Simon was giving him problems.

  ‘Halloo Baldur.’ He did not pause for pleasantries, nor did he bother to switch into Baldur’s native tongue, which was different from his own and from this English language that he could not abide. ‘What is your status?’

  Hakan’s momentum around the room slowed as the remote voice answered at length. Resuming his pacing and smiling, he listened to the voice explain all it had just finished doing.

  ‘And her bag, the coat?’ Hakan asked. ‘…Back in her flat! Good.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘You are very inventive. The husband is not there?…OK, then he’s probably still with the police…Is that right? In the bedroom? Very much the modern woman. You have done well, what about the car?…No, not that, the Rover. It cannot bring police here…No, I do not care. We need that document, that address is all that ties us…Yes, it was a mistake for Simon, but it was the least of them. If not for this woman it would not have mattered…Then do what you do best Baldur, I want that path erased. If someone looks hard enough, I do not want to lose what we have here. Understand?…Excellent my friend, thank you.’ He snapped the phone closed.

  Just one piece of paper and one troublesome woman stood between Hakan and untroubled sleep. And he would deal with the woman right now.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Adam stacked the bags of maps on the table and sat down, watching the throng of people flow through the main concourse. He tried to imagine Sarah here, less than a day ago, maybe sitting at one of these tables, possibly even the one he was at now.

  The image of Sarah on a morgue table now haunted him almost permanently. It kept him with Brian on this fool’s errand, although doing something did keep his emotions at bay. Brian also seemed to offer some hope, but Adam could not imagine what they would learn by being here. What would anyone remember? What could they find? Putting everyone into a headlock would take a while.

  He pulled a large atlas from one of the bags, absently watching a door open on the far side of the concourse. To his surprise Brian emerged, stepping around people and up the steps. He dropped into the chair opposite and placed two DVD cases on the table. He tapped his index finger against the plastic.

  ‘Guess what they are?’

  ‘Neil Diamond in Vegas?’ Adam ventured.

  Brian ignored him. ‘CCTV footage on DVD. How about that?’

  ‘Really, from last night?’ Adam was shocked and a little impressed.

  ‘Sure, two copies. From five in the afternoon through to midnight.’

  Adam looked at Brian. ‘How’d you get that?’

  Brown eyes gleamed back. ‘I asked nicely. Security were only too pleased to help when I explained why. Ran me off two copies there and then.’

  ‘And that was it?’

  Brian nodded.

  ‘Cool,’ Adam said. ‘I’ll get my computer.’ He looked down at the atlas on the table and back to Brian. ‘I got this and about fifteen cities from Birmingham upwards. Marker pens are in there as well.’

  Five minutes later he returned with his laptop bag bouncing off his hip. Brian had the atlas open at the UK map, using a marker pen to draw an upside down triangle with a corner each touching Blackpool, Hull and Warwick.

  Adam cleared a space for the laptop as Brian closed the atlas, scuffing his chair a
round. They both waited for the computer to load the first DVD. Several small images appeared on the screen. Brian leaned in closer, almost with his chin on Adam’s shoulder.

  ‘How’re we supposed to make anything out?’

  ‘It’s a contact sheet, Brian. There are seven cameras.’ He expanded the first folder and clicked on the first image. It filled the screen, showing the slip road from a vantage point high atop a lamppost. The road wound around to the car park, illuminated by several globes lighting the approach, the occasional splotch of green. The date and time were stamped in yellow numbers on the bottom right of the screen. Adam pressed the spacebar and advanced the image, but nothing changed save for the time by an increment of one second. He repeated the process until the time had advanced by fifteen seconds. Apart from the shifting shadows and leaves everything remained static.

  Adam leaned back in his chair. ‘With seven cameras, each with sixty pictures a minute, that’s over three thousand images per hour per camera. We could be here for days. On top of that coordinating the timeline between cameras is going to be a nightmare.’

  Brian looked blankly from the screen to Adam.

  ‘I tell you what,’ Adam offered. ‘Why don’t you get some drinks and I’ll see if I can download something. We can’t be the first people that needed to check through multiple CCTV feeds.’

  To Adam’s surprise Brian wordlessly pulled a handful of change from his pocket. ‘What do you want?’

  By the time Brian placed two coffees on the table and resumed his co-pilot’s position, Adam was busy pressing keys and flicking between images. He waited for Brian to settle.

  ‘The file structure is fairly standard for CCTV. There were lots of programs we can use, I downloaded this one because it’s simple to use.’

  Adam pressed a key and the images started advancing. Seconds passed with only the yellow numbers and shifting shadows changing. Then the screen flared and a car emerged from the slip road, arcing around in short jerking movements.