by Edward Figg
Austin switched on the radio then hit the tuning button to put it back to his favourite station. Adelle liked classical music. She was the last one to use the car.
Heavy trucks from the continent were streaming up the opposite carriageway throwing clouds of spray into the air as they made their way north. The announcer gave out the latest traffic report. No delays and traffic was light on the M2, flowing freely. His voice was far too bright and cheerful for such a dismal morning. He told his listeners how it was going to be a lovely, bright, sunny day with the occasional shower. At that very moment one of those occasional showers was fighting for control of Austin’s windscreen. The wipers were fighting back but just only winning. The visibility ahead had started to increase.
Austin suddenly had a vision of himself, laying back, sunbathing in a gondola as it made its way slowly along a Venetian canal. He gave a sigh.
Still thinking about the holiday, he saw the sign saying, ‘Services Ahead’. He decided to stop and refuel before turning off the M2 and onto the A249 to Kingsport.
Like any motorway service station, it was busy. The parking area for trucks was almost full. Most of these, he guessed, were overnight truckers from the north getting a hearty breakfast before pushing on to Dover, where they would then cross the channel to their various destinations across Europe.
After filling up and paying for the fuel, he walked back to the car. At least it had stopped raining.
He’d just put the key in the ignition when there was a tap on his side window. He looked up to see a white-haired man staring down at him. Richard Austin, who was a cautious man, hit the automatic locking system first and then lowered the electric operated window just a few inches. The white-haired man looked like he’d been sleeping rough. Austin’s first thought was that the man was going to ask for a lift. He’d refuse, because he much preferred to drive on his own with just the radio for company.
‘Excuse me. Did you know that your nearside rear tyre is nearly flat?’
‘Bugger. That’s all I need,’ thought Austin.
‘Damn! It felt fine on the road. Must have just happened,’ he said.
The white-haired man stood back while Austin got out of the car and then followed him towards the rear of the car. As he drew level with the boot the white-haired man quickly looked around and then took something from the pocket of jacket and hit him hard behind his right ear. Richard Austin felt like he was falling into a dark hole. The light in his eyes slowly began to fade as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
*******
‘Chief Inspector. Good morning. It Tim Bryant.’
‘Morning Tim. Got something good for me I hope?’
‘Yes. We have. Those samples we took from the lock-up? We’ve got the results of the analysis and they’ve come up with something that will interest you.’ There was a pause for a few moments. Carter waited. He could hear the sound of papers being sorted on the other end of the phone. Bryant cleared his throat then said, ‘You remember that partial print we lifted from the Newman house? Well, it’s a match to the prints we got from the lock-up. We got good clear prints.’
‘Great. Good work Tim. That’s great news. Bloody fantastic’. That confirms, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harris was there at her house, he thought.
‘If you think that’s fantastic, then listen to this. The DNA we got from the hair sample and the cup that was used, also came up trumps. We put it through our database. It’s a match to that blood speck we found in the downstairs toilet at Chelsea Ellis’s place.’
‘Tim old son, you’ve just made my day. I owe you a drink.’
‘More like two,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll email you a copy now, then send you a hard copy later. Bye. Have a nice day.’ He hung up.
Carter sat for a while thinking, then picked up the phone and spoke to Janice Watkins. He told her about the forensic results then got up from his desk and went out into the CID area.
‘This puts him squarely in the frame. We need to redouble our efforts to find him,’ Carter said, addressing those around him. ‘We need this bastard behind bars.’
‘Surely, he won’t try to get to Margaret Keane now, said Bill Turner. ‘He must know by now he’s on a lost cause. He can’t be that stupid.’
‘What happens if he tries to get to her before that date? The um… what was it…?’ asked Jill Richardson.
Luke Hollingsworth provided the answer. ‘November the ninth.’
‘That same question had occurred to me too,’ added Reid. ‘Will he still go for her?’
The only sound came from the ticking of the wall clock.
Carter said. ‘We can’t take that chance. I was hoping to avoid this, but it looks as if we will have to put her on a twenty-four hour protection order for the next twenty-eight days. Before I can do that, I’ll need to run it pass the Superintendent. She’ll have to get budget approval for it. We do have one ace up our sleeve. He doesn’t know that we know she’s his next target.’
Just then the phone in his office started ringing.
‘Grab that will you please, Jill. Tell them I’m busy and I’ll call back.’
Jill Richardson left the group and went to answer his phone. She came quickly back a few minutes later. ‘That was communications, sir.’ She looked at the notepad she’d taken from Carter’s desk. ‘Thirty minutes ago, a motorway patrol was called to an incident at a service station on the M2. This man said he saw another man being stuffed into the boot of a car. The witness was over the other side of the lorry park but when the car sped passed him, he did get a glimpse of the driver. The description he gave to the officers was that the driver had white hair and was wearing what was described as a camouflage type jacket. The car was a yellow Ford Fiesta. The PCs had a look at the footage from the forecourt security camera. They’ve confirmed it. They saw a man being hit over the head and stuffed into the boot. They got the car’s registration circulated.’
‘Which service station was it Jill, did they say?’ asked Ted Baxter.
‘Yes, just a sec, sir.’
She walked over to where a drafting table stood. She selected a large sliding drawer beneath it, pulled it out and sorted through it, then picked out an ordinance survey map, came back with it and pinned it on the wall. She stared at it for a moment the stabbed her finger at the ’S’ symbol on the motorway. ‘This one. Near Farthing Corner.’
‘Ted!’ Carter said. ‘Get back to the crew of that car and have them pull that CCTV from that service station and get sent over.’ Ted Baxter leant across the desk and picked up the phone.
‘He couldn’t have gone too far,’ said Hollingsworth, looking up at the wall clock. The hands showed it was a little after ten thirty. ‘So, he’s heading south. But what I can’t understand is, why the hell go all the way, practically, to Gillingham, which is north of us, steal the car and then head back this way? Why not just take the car from here? Why resort to kidnapping the driver? It doesn’t make sense.’ ‘OK, all done sir,’ said Baxter, putting down the phone.
Kirby looked over to where Hollingsworth sat perched on the edge of a desk.
‘I think that when he saw the patrol car at the lock-up he just panicked and ran. He’d nowhere to go, so maybe he wanted to get out of the area and make his way up to London. Once up there, you could just melt into the background. It’s beyond me why he took the driver with him though. Why not just to leave him there?’ she said, posing another question.
Baxter looked at her, and said. ‘Maybe he thought that by taking him, he was buying himself some time by stopping the man identifying him.’ Then, as an afterthought, said, ‘He obviously overlooked the security camera,’ said Baxter.
Nearly an hour later, a breathless traffic cop came into the CID room saying he had the CCTV video for Inspector Baxter. Leaving his mate standing by the door, he walked across the room. Baxter called the man over and took the video.
The PC smiled and introduced himself.
‘Clark sir. Rochester Traffic. We had quit
e a job getting hold of this. Got the run-around. This bureaucrat from their head office passed me from one to the other. They ended up by telling me I needed to talk their legal department. They kept harping on about people’s privacy and human rights. Said they wouldn’t release the tape to us without a bleeding warrant. I got on to my boss. He can be a bit of a tyrant at times. Don’t tell him I said that will yer? Anyway, not sure what he said to them, but they handed it over pretty sharpish.’
‘OK, thanks, Clark. So, tell me, what exactly happened?’
‘It was a truck driver who reported it sir. A Frenchman, on his way back from up north. He was walking back to his truck just after he had breakfast. He said he saw a man being put into the boot of a car. His English wasn’t all that good but, with a bit of sign language and my schoolboy French, we got the gist of what he was saying. We went off and checked out the CCTV and sure enough, he was right. We immediately put a call out for the car because the driver fitted the description of that Harris chap. We got them to call you straight away. On the way here, we did a check on the car’s owner.’ He handed Baxter a slip of paper.
Baxter looked at what he’d been handed.
‘Well done. Good work. So now, why don’t you and yer mate shoot off down to the canteen and get yourselves a cuppa?’
‘Thanks sir, we will.’ Clark turned and walked off.
Baxter glanced at the details on the paper, then handing it to Reid, said. ‘Mike, find out who was driving this car. Seems it’s registered to a firm of solicitors in Dartford.’
‘On it boss,’ he said, and walked over to his desk.
Carter said to Baxter. ‘Right Ted. I’m off to see the Super. I’ll see if I can get Margaret Keane twenty-four hour protection for the next month. I’m going to need all my powers of persuasion if I’m going to pull this off because it’s going to cost a few quid.’ He stopped. Rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. ‘Then again, I think maybe I have a plan. Yes. I think, maybe I could persuade the Super to get our illustrious Deputy Chief Constable, Tom Bishop, to give it his blessing and his money. I do believe they once knew each another very well. In fact, very, very well,’ he smirked.
Baxter waited for Carter to explain but Carter just turned and walked away. Baxter was left wondering just what Carter had in mind.
*******
Superintendent Janice Watkins sat staring at Carter from across her desk. After giving her the details, he sat back in the chair, crossed his legs and folded his arms and said. ‘It has to be done. We can’t afford to leave a member of the public like her unprotected. It’s too risky. If something went wrong and the press got to hear about it, you and I can kiss our jobs goodbye.’
‘Bob, I can’t sanction that. We just don’t have the provisions or manpower for an operation of that size. We’d have to have officers with her day and night. We don’t have enough here at the station. Not counting CID, we have only twelve uniformed officers. We’re stretched to the limit as it is. And another thing. Have you thought about the cost?’
He got up from his chair, walked up to her desk, put both hands down on it and leaned towards her. ‘Janice I’m sure under the circumstances, if you spoke to Tom Bishop, he’d provide everything we need. Once you tell him her life is in danger, he can’t refuse. Just think what would happen if he were to refuse and our man slips through the net and gets to her? The papers would have a bloody field day. They’d hang him out too dry and us with him. I’d hate that to happen.’ He raised his eyebrows at her.
‘Until this is over, does she have any relatives she can go and stay with?’ she suggested.
‘Not sure, I’d have to check. If it did come to that, we’d have to tell her there’s a madman out there looking to kill her. The other alternative is, we just sit back on our fat arses, leave her where she is, and hope we get him first.’
In a raised, agitated voice, she said, ‘Bob! for heaven’s sake, nobody will be sitting back on their arses and you bloody well know it. We have every bobby in the county out there looking for him.’
‘Yes, yes. I know. I’m sorry, but it’s just so bloody frustrating. We’ve gotta catch this bastard.’
‘He can’t run forever Bob. Sooner or later we’ll have him.’
He slumped back into the chair.
‘I know what I’d do, but then…’ she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Look Bob. Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with Tom Bishop. Let’s see what he has to say.’
*******
Feeling frustrated, Carter left Janice Watkins and walked back to the CID suite.
As he pushed his way through the swing doors, Baxter called to him ‘Sir, take a look at the video. Its Harris right enough.’ Baxter hit the replay button and they watched as the scene before them played out.
‘The driver,’ Carter asked, ‘What do we know about him. Who is he?’
‘I’ve been in contact with Clapton, Wallis and Barns. It’s a company car. They wanted to know why we were making enquiries. I told them it was just a routine stop as we were carrying out document checks and we needed to confirm that they were the registered owners.’
‘Good thinking. No point in jumping the gun just yet.’
‘The car was being driven by one of their lawyers, a Richard Austin. He’s married with two children. I have his address here as well. They were very cooperative. Didn’t even need to press them for it, came straight out with it. They said he was on his way down here to the Magistrate’s Court. He due in court this afternoon. Believe it or not, he’s defending our old friend, Reggie Hunter.’
‘Ah, yes. Almost forgot that. Marcia and Luke are handling that one. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Should get at a two stretch a least.’
Baxter walked over to the wall map and ran his finger along the route that marked out the M2 motorway then stopped on a red dot. ‘The last camera sighting we have of the car is here at the road junctions of Sittingbourne and Maidstone. He didn’t turn off to Maidstone because there are cameras here…’ He pointed to the map again, ‘… and here at Detling. Nothing has come in from them so it’s my guess he turned off towards Sheppey. We can’t be sure a hundred percent sure because, I’m told, the camera on the first stretch of the A249 is out of action.’
Carter cast his eyes over the map, then said. ‘He could also get on to the A2 from here.’ He stabbed his finger at the map, ‘from here, he could go in either direction, north or south. We don’t know the state of Austin’s injuries. He could be dead for all we know. From the look of that video he took a hell of a knock to the head.’ He looked at his watch and was surprised to see that it was nearly noon. ‘We need to get in touch with the wife, she needs to be told before she hears it from the media. I’m sure they’ll pick up on this one before too long. This will need a woman’s touch.’ He took a breath. ‘I’ll send Jill up there; Dave can go along to keep her company.’ He looked around the room and saw Jill Richardson by the water cooler. ‘I’ll have a word with her.’ He walked off.
*******
He spent some time talking to Jill Richardson, then, after sending her and Lynch off to Dartford, he went back to his office. Just as he sat down, his phone rang. He picked up the receiver.
‘Bob, can you come to my office, now please?’
‘Jesus Christ, you’ve gotta be kidding me? He can’t do that. What the hell does he think he’s bloody playing at?’
‘That’s his decision Bob. That’s it. It’s out of my hands.’ Janice Watkins shrugged her shoulders then held up her hands in a mute display of surrender.
‘Did you tell him the latest developments, everything we know?’
‘Yes. Word for word, everything we know. He’s convinced Harris won’t do anything to her until it’s time. He’s convinced Harris will stick to his original plan and do nothing until…’ She looked down at the file in front of her, ‘… November. His thinking is, why should we put all that protection in place and spend all that time and effort for twenty-eight days when there’s a chance we could ha
ve him in custody tomorrow?’
‘Err, “time and effort”, don’t you mean money and effort?’ grunted Carter. ‘We know we have two members of the public at risk. He’s got Richard Austin out there somewhere. We don’t even know if he’s dead or alive. How much is a life worth, for God’s sake?’
‘His words, Bob. Not mine.’ She stood up, went over to the window and looked down at the passing traffic.
He got up and stood in front of her desk. ‘The man’s clutching at straws. How the hell can ACC Bishop be so sure he won’t try to get to her before then? He could change his plans. He’s already kidnapped one person. That was definitely not part of his plan. Things have changed. He’s deranged enough. He’s a man is on the run and he’s desperate. What’s to stop him going for her now? Aye, answer me that? And what the heck happened to that so-called open budget we were promised at the start of this bloody investigation?’ He banged his hand down hard on her desktop.
She turned back, looked at him and shook her head. ‘All we can do is to take it one day at a time. One step at a time and hope to hell we get to him first. I’ll order all shifts to do a drive-by as often as they can. That’s the best I can do Bob.’
‘It’s not enough,’ he thought. Something more needs to be done. But what?
For most of the day he sat in his office waiting for news. Occasionally he’d pick up the phone and call control asking for any sightings of the car. It was like the car had just melted into the countryside. The atmosphere within CID had grown tense. Even Hollingsworth declined the offer of a cheese and tomato sandwich that had been left over from Bill Turner lunch. They spent their time catching up on paperwork and bringing their case notes up to date. Every time a phone rang they’d stop what they were doing and look over expectantly to whoever took the call. Carter came out of his office and looked at the clock on the wall as it ticked away the hours. He walked around the room then went back to his office.