by J. A. Kerr
Nick was ready for the knock on the door of his hotel room and so were his legal team if the police were to call. Okay, he didn’t have an alibi but the hotel receptionist would confirm he was in his room. He’d called and ordered room service taking time to chat and tip the waiter when he brought the food to his the room. There were many ways to leave a hotel without being seen and he knew if he got the right disguise then he could slip away unnoticed through the underground car park: there were no cameras down there. Taking the stairs, he passed no one on his descent to the car park. It had taken a day to get the hotel uniform matched, but he was confident he would pass as a member of staff. He located the second hire car he’d arranged to be dropped off at the hotel car park; nothing sinister in that. He kept his head down as he climbed inside.
Toby had held Niven in a soundproofed unit. That had been clever. Nick had found a basement which would serve his purposes well but it wasn’t soundproofed—the key was drugs. The bag of tricks he’d collected from the station would ensure that. He must keep Anna in a continued state of sedation. He hadn’t decided what to do with her yet...but bodies were difficult to get rid of. For the moment he’d enjoy twisting the knife into Mr Walker, as payback for his hand and leg.
On a more serious note, he was thinking of leaving London. Somewhere more isolated; Scotland perhaps. He would need to research it but it should be easy to rent a remote cottage where he could keep Anna; the thought excited him. His parole officer would want to know his location details but he’d be happy to supply them. He would be viewed as low risk. He had independent means to support himself. Plus, who would suspect a devoted husband caring for his disabled wife? He’d found his time as a psychologist rewarding. He’d worked with many injured service men and women and they all said the same thing. Losing their legs was hard, but losing their presence and identity was even harder. They complained that in a wheelchair they became invisible. People averted their eyes rather than met them. He’d have to change Anna’s outward appearance but that wouldn’t be hard. He could shave off her hair and eyebrows. Wrap a scarf around her head. No one would question him. Heavily drugged, Anna would have no choice but to remain slumped in the wheelchair. He giggled; the plan was brilliant.
He anticipated the police would struggle to find her. Drugged as she was, he could put her in a car and simply start driving. People disappeared all the time. Anna Dunbar’s disappearance would spark an investigation but, with no leads or body, what could the police do? They worked on evidence. What happened when there was none? His heart had hammered as he left her by the side of the van and opened the doors. He pulled the protective legs of the bodysuit down and slipped the booties over his footwear. Lastly he pulled up the hood and fitted the ramp into place. It was still difficult manoeuvring Anna inside but the van was equipped to secure a wheelchair. The purchase had been simple and a cash transaction. He was still conscious of DNA but had taken the necessary precautions. The hoody and pants he wore could be burnt in the old stove he’d seen in the garage. Taking no chances, he placed the duct tape over Anna’s eyes, mouth, hands and legs. Satisfied she could not escape, he climbed into the front seat of the van and started the engine. Thirty minutes later he was at his location: the disused garage. Reversing the van inside, he pulled the door shut behind him.
Chapter 30
The Braille Club Reborn
Anna
Anna felt the cold first: a deep penetrating chill that seemed to encompass her body. Her mind was foggy and her mouth dry. She was so thirsty—her tongue glued to the inside of her mouth. When she tried to open her eyes she found she couldn’t. Her heart spiked in alarm. What the hell was wrong with her eyes? A muffled moan escaped her lips. She became aware of the tape around her mouth and the stickiness against her eyelids. Fear gripped her. Was she having a nightmare? She tried to move. The realisation she couldn’t sent tremors through her body. She didn’t understand. Her pulse raced. A cold clammy sweat broke out over her body. Furiously, she tried to free her legs and arms. Her body rocked and she stopped moving. Gasping for breath, she wiggled her bottom and felt the rocky motion again. She stilled, trying to work it out...she was on a chair of some sort. As she wiggled her toes, she could feel something beneath them but with her legs immobilised she didn’t know what. Terror closed in on her. She turned her head repeatedly but heard nothing over the wild beating of her heart. Then crashing through her memory came heartache and loss.
Robert and Poppy. Poppy and the baby. Their marriage. Pain and regret raced through her. Her confused thoughts scrambled to make sense of her feelings. Then it hit her—she and Guy were over. Had she confronted Guy? Anna realised her last recollection was leaving the flat. What had happened? A cold terror was building. Think, Anna commanded her brain. She took a moment to control her erratic breathing.
Anna, blindfolded many times, was comfortable with her other senses. The Braille Club had honed this experience and she concentrated on what they were telling her now—smell. She was aware of a scent, muted but still recognisable. But the predominant smell was of vehicles. Anna was sure of it. A smell of oil. She listened intently. It was eerily quiet but she could detect small nuances of sound from what she thought was outside. Her mind tried to piece together events. What did she remember? She struggled to recall her earlier movements. Her thoughts were jumbled. She had wanted to ask Guy to move out...but Anna was developing a headache. She was desperately cold and thirsty. Her neck ached as though at an awkward angle and she realised with mounting agitation she needed to relieve herself.
Anna felt like crying but wouldn’t give in to weakness. She needed to stay alert. With effort, she made herself relax. The calmer she became, the more she remembered. Shutting off her insistent bladder, she let her thoughts wash over her. Apart from her decision to split with Guy, nothing came to mind, and she sighed in frustration. She went back to what she remembered. Guy’s face swam into her mind and the sensation of loss was so great, she moaned. She had been so angry with him and his obsession with the abduction. He was determined to bring Nick Waters to justice for his crime. With a jolt, Anna realised she had also been abducted. Her mind was trying, and failing, to come up with any other solution. Was Guy looking for her now? Anna hoped he was with all her heart. Suddenly, she was glad of his work ethic and nature. She knew if anyone could find her it was him. It was only now she could truly understand what drove him.
She hadn’t been there when the twins were discovered but Guy had. He’d dug them out of the earth with his bare hands. He’d told Anna in all his years as a copper, he’d never experienced anything like it. It had been a race against time to find them alive. There is something particularly abhorrent about a child killer. Anna understood this; she had prosecuted vile men who had harmed children. Slowly, she understood his behaviour toward her was not because he didn’t love her but because he did. She remembered his words clearly…
“My God, Anna, he tried to kill the twins...they’re babies, defenceless. Abduction is his MO, and he doesn’t play fair. He likes to target the weak and vulnerable. I’m worried he’ll try it again if we don’t stop him. First Siena, then the twins...who’s next? That’s what a man like him likes to do. He likes to break people mentally before he breaks them physically.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Guy,” she retorted. “So far the only link to Waters is his girlfriend. It was her coat and not his that was found in the car. Maybe she’s the obsessional type, who knows. But you will need a damn sight more evidence than you have now to convince me.”
“Siena was one hundred percent certain it was him that night. It was his aftershave she could smell, again circumstantial but I believe her.”
Guy was right to think he’d strike again. He had. The earlier memory of the smell, which she now identified as aftershave, had her heart hammering. Anna’s worst fears were confirmed—Nick Waters had taken her. She just didn’t know why.
She’d worked out she was bound and gagged with duct tape; memories of
Siena’s abduction were hazy. Anna hadn’t really paid much attention to what Guy told her. She wished she had now because Siena had got away alive. She had to keep calm. Anna’s lawyer’s mind switched to Nick Waters’ motive. Why take her? Anna was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. Her need to urinate was unbearable, her bladder screaming for release. Combined with a ferocious thirst, it made Anna think of these survival programmes where people drink their own urine to survive. Lucky them, she thought bitterly, she couldn’t even do that. Shifting position made no difference. Anna bent her head and let the pent up emotion out. Her tears were a temporary relief.
Chapter 31
The Braille Club Reborn
Benedict
Benedict and Guy returned to the club after an hour hanging around outside the house. He saw Guy repeatedly check his mobile and noticed his agitation worsened as the day went on. He gratefully sat down as he watched Guy move towards the whiteboard.
“We should go back tomorrow and reconstruct events at the house,” he said.
“Yes,” Benedict agreed as Guy updated the board with today’s developments.
“As far as I’m aware, Nick Waters is not a smoker,” said Benedict and covered his eyes with his hand in an effort to shake off his fatigue. “Don’t get me wrong, it confirmed what Evan suspected but I don’t think we’ll find any evidence to link to Waters.”
“I think you’re right but if we get a DNA match on the cigarette stubs it will lead us to the person who was watching the house. That might lead us to Nick Waters if they confirm it was him they were working for. I can assure you with an abduction and attempted murder charge of two minors being pursued, they’ll talk. DI Clark will make certain of that.” Guy was writing down each detail. “So, before all roads and evidence led to Katie,” He pointed at the arrows on the board. “But today’s discovery puts someone else in the equation.”
Benedict nodded and felt his spirits lift. “Evan is still coming for the sensory lesson and our meeting?”
“Yes, he confirmed with me an hour ago,” said Guy. “Let’s go over everything we know before he arrives.”
“I’ve been thinking,” said Benedict. “If Waters paid for surveillance of my house, the bastard, it would make sense how he got in. With someone watching night and day it would be easy enough to establish our routine. Except that day, I was at the club which wasn’t normal. I never usually work Saturdays. How did he know I wasn’t home?”
“Good question,” said Guy, writing it on the board, his face puzzled.
“Another thing, if the house was under surveillance could they have seen one of us punching in the door code? You know, with high powered field glasses? It could explain how Katie got into the house?”
He watched Guy scribble down the bullet points.
“Another thing bothered me. How did Katie know what dose rates to administer for the drugs?”
“Internet searches. You can learn to do anything on YouTube nowadays,” said Guy sourly. “Dose rates are linked to body weight; maybe she took a guess.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Benedict. “Nick Waters is familiar with drugs and dose rates.”
Guy gave a biter laugh. “I agree.” His shoulders slumped. “But where’s the proof? He was in prison with no access to drugs.”
“You’re right. We must be missing something. Don’t forget the hire car found at the house. They’ve taken prints from the keys. If Waters drove it there...”
“He’d have worn gloves,” interrupted Guy.
Benedict sighed.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” said Guy.
Benedict nodded distractedly, the new evidence at the forefront of his mind. In fact, he’d thought of little else. Their home had been under surveillance. The thought made his skin crawl. How long? Was it Katie Burns watching? The evidence suggested otherwise. Everything pointed at a prolonged surveillance operation. Was Katie capable of that? What were Katie’s motives for abducting the twins? All Benedict had was questions. Nothing about the case made sense and he wasn’t going anywhere until it did.
Chapter 32
The Braille Club Reborn
Guy
Guy checked his mobile—no messages from Anna. He sighed as his mood darkened. They couldn’t avoid each other forever. He would need to pack up his belongings. The thought depressed him; he was glad he hadn’t rented his flat. What a mess! A deep ache of unhappiness settled in the pit of his stomach. His heart leapt when his mobile rang, followed by crushing disappointment—it wasn’t Anna. As he took DI Clark’s call, he welcomed the distraction.
“Guy Walker.”
“Guy, I’ve had preliminary results from the lab. Hair and fibres recovered from both the Harrison house and car are a match for Katie Burns. I have a warrant to search her home and car later today.”
“Shit,” said Guy.
He saw Benedict turn and look at him quizzically. “DI Clark,” he mouthed to him.
“It places her at both scenes,” the DI continued. “Also, it’s her prints on the hire car keys.”
Guy rubbed his temple which had begun to throb and his mouth tightened in anger. His mood has just gone from bad to black.
“Are they sure? Remember, I asked about the independent DNA testing?”
“Cast iron,” said the DI, not hiding his irritation. “We don’t have to worry about hackers and before you ask, I checked. The results have to be formalised but we have a match to Katie Burns. The pen recovered at the scene is the first anomaly. It has only Nick Waters’ prints on it, but that proves nothing.”
Guy digested the information. “I think it’s something,” he said and knew he was grasping at straws.
“Like I said, Katie Burns could have taken it from Waters and dropped it at the burial site. It doesn’t prove Waters is involved,” said the DI.
“So why aren’t her prints on it?” asked Guy. “It’s not like she was wearing gloves with her prints all over the hire car.”
There was silence for a moment before the DI replied, “Yeah, well it is part of the puzzle we need to solve. The car hire company confirmed Katie Burns paid for the car hire. But no one could identify her from the pictures we showed them. It doesn’t help they have a high turnover of staff. We’re trying to track down the guy who dealt with the car handover. He’s no longer working for the company. Things like that will take time. I put a rush on the prints and DNA but I’m running out of favours, Guy.”
“Look, thanks, we appreciate everything you’re doing. Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“Sure, a case like this is stressful for everyone involved. Something else doesn’t fit. We have not recovered any prints at the Harrison home belonging to Katie Burns. From the CCTV footage it looks like she was wearing gloves when she entered the house which make no sense.”
“I agree,” said Guy. “Why would she leave her prints on the car hire keys if she was wearing gloves?”
“Something doesn’t add up,” said the DI in agreement. “It could explain why the pen didn’t have her prints and only Nick Waters’. She could have taken it from him.”
“Maybe,” said the Guy grudgingly. “I understand where you’re coming from but Waters has motive whereas Katie doesn’t.”
“It’s dangerous to make those types of assumptions. Without evidence against Nick Waters my hands are tied,” said the exasperated DI. “We’ll know more when we search Katie Burns’ flat and car.”
“Okay,” said Guy, accepting the DI’s logic. “Keep me informed of developments.”
“I will.”
Guy related the information from DI Clark to Benedict and saw his face tense with anger. Guy had arranged for a coffee machine and fridge to be put in the conference room; it was fast becoming his second home. Although he had slept, he still felt exhausted. Waking to find himself alone this morning had deepened his unease about his relationship. They were at the end of the road. Irrevocable differences…yes, he thought, that summed up their situation perfectly. He n
eeded the caffeine to stay awake, thoughts of Anna had resulted in a restless night.
Force of habit made him check his mobile. However, he’d already left Anna a message to call...he would not beg. Earlier, he’d pushed thoughts of her aside, his day passed quickly as he caught up with work. Sasha was proving to be a godsend and all his IT innovation with the Braille Club meant it ran smoothly. With his well-trained team behind him, Guy had few issues to contend with. If it hadn’t been for the case he could have given Anna what she desperately wanted—his company. Maybe, he thought suddenly, if they could talk, she’d see this was only temporary. His future could be different. Guy reckoned, if his current management team continued to perform, he could work Monday to Friday. Cutting back on his daily hours would be possible with Benedict and Siena more involved with the club, something Guy welcomed.
His spirits lifted a little and he decided against staying at the club another night. After this meeting with Benedict, he’d pick up some groceries and make that meal Anna wanted. Cooking was never his forte but he was determined to try. He’d get flowers and at least try to reason with her. He didn’t want to think of the alternative. After they discussed DI Clark’s news, Guy updated the white board. It made grim reading with the Katie Burn’s column filling up steadily while the Nick Waters column had only the surveillance and pen in it.