by Sue Fortin
‘I never got that.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have done. I didn’t let her send it. She used the names Helen and Katherine. She didn’t bank on me noticing. The thing was, I had looked at an email sitting in the draft box, one she had prepared for you, but you hadn’t yet opened. You two didn’t call each other Helen and Katherine in the email. In fact, you didn’t even use your names, so for her to put the name in, I knew then she was playing silly buggers and trying to be clever. Trying to alert you by changing the format.’
Ellen felt herself shiver at the obvious pride in his voice, the patronising way he used to speak to her just before things would turn nasty. ‘So, what did you do? How did you get her to make that call to me?’
‘Patrick,’ replied Toby. ‘I knew she wouldn’t have wanted any harm to come to her younger brother. Again, she wasn’t entirely convinced I meant what I said. At one point she threatened to go to the police if I didn’t leave her alone. Changed her mind when I dropped Patrick home to her. I explained to her how dangerous it could be for a thirteen-year-old lad to be scooting around. You know what the roads are like, very dangerous with all this traffic. As it seems Kate herself has found out.’
Ellen shook her head slowly. Toby was evil. Even more evil than she had ever imagined. She thought back to the time a pigeon had flown into the patio doors of Toby’s apartment. It had flapped around on the floor - stunned. Toby had picked it up and, stating that it needed putting out of its misery, had wrung its neck, right there and then. No remorse, but definitely a flicker of pleasure on his face as he did so.
Ellen began to cry as she thought of Kate. Her loyal, dependable friend. Darling Kate. Ellen was more sorry than she ever felt possible. She should never have brought Kate into this whole mess.
Her tears snapped Toby out of his reflective account. He stood up abruptly and brushed his trousers down. From the table at the end of the beach hut, he took a piece of cloth and a small bottle with clear liquid in it. He unscrewed the lid and, placing the cloth over the bottle, upturned it.
‘A few drops are all we need.’
He grinned and raised his eyebrows at Ellen.
‘Don’t!’ cried Ellen. She tried to move between him and Izzy but with her hands tied she had no way of pushing him off. Toby simply backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling to the ground. Izzy was screaming and shouting out for Ellen before Toby smothered her mouth and nose with the cloth. Almost instantly, Izzy passed out.
‘Oh my God,’ sobbed Ellen. ‘What have you done?’ That sickly-sweet smell of the liquid; she had smelt it before. The memory crashed to the front of her mind. The cat in the water butt. The collar she’d picked up in the garden and the smell on the tag and her fingers. It was the same smell. Chloroform.
‘Don’t worry, she’s only having a little nap. She’ll be okay. I’ve got to go out and I don’t want either of you screaming and shouting, drawing attention to where we are.’ He picked up the bottle again and this time upturned it twice. ‘Need a bit more for you.’
Ellen fought and screamed as much as she could but again his sheer strength was too much. Within a few seconds the blackness was closing in around her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Donovan felt totally and utterly helpless. He didn’t like this feeling. He wasn’t used to it. He paced towards the living-room window for the umpteenth time, looking out onto the private estate, which was normally quiet and refined. But today it was littered with police vehicles, police officers and dogs. All desperately trying to find Ellen and his daughter.
Carla had come over as soon as he had phoned. The police had wanted to talk to her to see if she could shed any light on the situation; whether she had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Apart from the obvious strange goings-on, as she had put it, she knew nothing that could help them find Ellen and Izzy. She had insisted on staying in the absence of Mrs Holloway and was busy making coffee. Coffee that Donovan had no stomach to drink.
He picked up his phone and dialled Amanda’s number again. It was just ringing out to voicemail. He’d left a message earlier for her to call back. Told her it was urgent, but so far, no response. For some reason he was yet to discover, she had brought Izzy back early. If she hadn’t, then Izzy wouldn’t be caught up in all this.
A knock on the living-room door turned his attention away from his hostile thoughts towards his wife.
Ken came into the room. ‘A bit of a breakthrough. We’ve got a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with.’
‘And that is…?’ Donovan tried to hide his impatience.
‘Ben has come round and been able to answer a couple of questions. Not great news, I’m afraid.’ Ken paused. Donovan wished he’d get on with it. ‘It seems Ellen had a call from her friend, Kate, to meet her at the duck pond. Said it was urgent. Kate turned up with Toby. They parked on the other side of the road, where the woman got knocked down by the bus.’
Ken paused while Donovan filled in the gaps. ‘The woman … that was Ellen’s friend, wasn’t it?’ Ken nodded. ‘Jesus Christ,’ groaned Donovan. ‘She didn’t step out by accident in front of the bus, did she?’ This time the confirmation was a shake of the head.
‘It was Toby who whacked Ben on the head. Ben’s pretty certain it was with the butt of a handgun.’
‘A gun? Jesus, Ken, what the hell is happening? Does anyone know where he is? And what about Ellen and Izzy?’ Donovan didn’t know what to do with himself. He could hear the panic and frustration in his voice. He felt totally powerless.
‘Keep it together, Donovan. We’re trying to find them now. Ben was able to give a description of the car. We’ve got everyone looking for it. I’ve got an armed response team on standby and the dog unit is already here.’ Ken paused and cleared his throat before continuing. ‘There is one thing.’ He pulled out a red ribbon from his pocket, laying it across the palm of his hand. ‘Recognise this?’
Donovan swallowed what felt like a golf ball in his throat. He moved to Ken and took the ribbon from his friend’s hand. It had a loose knot halfway along. He acknowledged the rational thought that it probably belonged to his daughter. ‘Izzy’s ribbon. Where …?’ The dryness was in his throat again, strangling his words.
‘Middleton Road, opposite the duck pond.’
‘Izzy is definitely with Ellen and Toby, then.’ It was a statement not a question.
‘It looks that way.’
‘If you find Toby, you find Ellen and Izzy,’ stated Donovan.
‘Let’s hope so.’
Once again, Donovan noted the lack of reassurance from his friend. Ken was not in the business of making promises he couldn’t keep. For once, Donovan wished he could be ignorant to the inference of the DCI’s reply.
The cold seeped up from beneath her into every pore and advanced into her muscles. Ellen went to move and for a moment couldn’t understand why her hands were stuck together. The pain in her shoulder ripped into her as she adjusted her position. Opening her eyes, she took a few moments to attune to the darkness. A grey shaft of light was drifting through a gap in the curtains; blue-checked curtains covering a small pane of glass. Then she remembered. The abandoned beach huts at Old Point. Toby. Kate. Ben. It all came flooding back with clarity.
Ellen managed to get herself into a sitting position and shuffled over to Izzy, who was lying in the far corner. Ellen tried to wriggle her hands free of the rope but it simply caused even more pain to the burns on her wrists. Putting her face close to the child’s, Ellen listened for breathing. It was slight and shallow but it was definitely there. Ellen thought about trying to wake her, but decided against it. It was better Izzy stayed asleep, at least that way she was oblivious to what was going on.
If only there was some way Ellen could get out of here, she could go and get help. Standing up, she manoeuvred herself to the door and tried to turn the knob. It was locked. No surprise there. She pulled on the handle, trying to force it. No joy.
If she could see outside, she might be able to sp
ot a passer-by. Taking a piece of the curtain between her teeth, Ellen tugged it to the left. It moved about one centimetre before jamming. It tasted disgusting too. Ellen tried again but it wasn’t going any further. Through the slightly bigger gap she had made, Ellen was able to see that it was getting dark outside. She couldn’t see her watch and her head felt too fuzzy for her to even guess how long she had been unconscious for. A wave of nausea made her feel faint. She could still taste and smell the chloroform Toby had used. She couldn’t get over how dangerous this was, especially giving it to a child as young as Izzy.
Her thoughts turned to Toby and what he planned to do with herself and Izzy. God, this was awful. She had never felt so desperate. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Izzy! A small nagging voice at the back of her mind was telling her otherwise.
She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. Giving into him, letting him have his own way, with hardly any protest. No, she couldn’t do that. She had Izzy to think of.
A small groan and a whimper emitted from the corner of the beach hut. Izzy shifted position. Ellen shuffled over to her. Izzy wasn’t fully conscious and Ellen hoped she would stay that way for as long as possible. Sitting with her back to her, Ellen was able to stroke the child’s head. Poor little love. What must Donovan be thinking? Surely they were trying to find them by now.
Ellen must have dozed off for a while as the next thing she was aware of was Izzy crying. She was now fully awake.
‘Don’t cry, darling,’ said Ellen. ‘It’s all right. I’m here. Daddy will come and find us soon.’
‘Can you ring him?’ said Izzy, her head on Ellen’s lap.
‘I’m sorry darling, but I don’t have my phone.’
‘Use my phone,’ said Izzy.
Ellen looked at her. ‘Oh, Izzy, that’s a good idea but your one won’t work. I need a real one.’ If only a pink Barbie flip phone would really do the job.
‘It is a real one,’ said Izzy.
‘No, I mean a proper one, like I’ve got or like Daddy has.’
Izzy pulled herself up into a sitting position, her voice this time quite insistent. ‘It is a proper one. Mummy gave it to me.’
‘Mummy gave you a real phone?’
Izzy glanced across to her small red satchel that had been thrown in the corner by Toby. She then looked guiltily back at Ellen and nodded. Ellen gave a reassuring smile. Her heart was beginning to hammer inside her with excitement. ‘It’s okay Izzy, you’re not in trouble. Mummy gave you a real phone and it’s in your bag?’
‘Yes. She said it was for her to call me on if she wanted to speak to me. She said it was a secret.’ The worry returned to Izzy’s face.
‘It’s okay. Really.’ Ellen shuffled over to the satchel and after a bit of fumbling managed to undo the buckle and retrieve the phone. A small pink flip phone with a Barbie sticker on it. Amanda was crafty, thought Ellen, but in this situation, a genius. ‘Hold the phone still for me. I’m going to ring the police.’
With her thumb, Ellen depressed the number nine button three times, then lying down so that her ear was to the receiver, she waited as her call was picked up.
She was about to respond to the operator when she heard the key turning the lock from the outside. It could only be Toby. She just managed to get into a sitting position as he came in.
‘You’re awake then. I brought you some water,’ he said as he came in and shut the door behind him. He placed two bottles of water on the small work surface, which ran along one side of the beach hut.
As discreetly as possible, Ellen padded her hands around on the floor behind her trying to locate the phone. ‘You can’t keep us locked up in this beach hut forever,’ she said louder than was necessary. Her only hope was that the emergency operator was still on the other end of the line. ‘We are only at Old Point, the police are bound to look for us here. What then?’ More patting the tiled floor in search of the phone, but to no avail. Where was the bloody thing?
Toby put the bottle back on the side and looked at her without saying a word, his eyes homing in on the floor behind her. ‘What the fuck are you doing down there?’
Grabbing Ellen roughly by the arm, Toby pulled her forwards. Ellen held her breath. When he grunted and shoved her back next to Izzy, she slowly let out air from her lungs. How he hadn’t seen the phone, she didn’t know.
Toby turned his attention back to the water bottles. ‘Lift your head up and open your mouth.’ He instructed Ellen and tipped the bottle. The water came out too quickly, spilling down her chin and running down her neck. Izzy refused the water despite encouragement from Ellen.
‘Spoilt brat,’ muttered Toby. He tossed the bottle at Ellen’s feet. ‘You will have to sort her out.’
‘How can I with my hands tied up?’
Toby shrugged. Ellen continued. ‘Just untie us for a little while, please. It’s really bad for the circulation and Izzy must have some water. It’s not like we can go anywhere with you standing in the doorway.’ Toby appeared to consider this before giving another shrug and, relenting, he untied the ropes on both Ellen and Izzy. ‘No fucking funny business. You hear? I don’t want to have to get cross with you.’ He squeezed the sides of Ellen’s face between his finger and thumb.
With her wrists now unbound, Ellen could feel the blood rush to her fingertips sending tingling sensations through her hands. She rubbed Izzy’s hands in between her own, as Izzy cried out.
‘My hands hurt.’
‘It’s okay, it’s pins and needles. The tingling will stop in a minute.’ Ellen smiled. ‘Have some water now. That’s it. And a bit more.’
Ellen looked at Izzy, whose gaze kept falling down behind her and then back to Ellen. Putting her arms around the little girl, Ellen hugged her whilst, at the same time, discreetly looking over her shoulder. There, in the dim light cast by the moon, Ellen could make out the silver sparkly Barbie sticker. The phone. Izzy had hidden it from Toby. What a clever girl! However, her delight was soon crushed. The phone was shut. Izzy must have closed it, thus ending the call to the emergency services. Ellen felt her heart plummet to somewhere near her shoes.
As carefully as she could, she reached round and slowly picked up the phone and slid it into Izzy’s coat pocket. She prayed that Toby wouldn’t for one moment think that there was another phone.
Amanda stormed into the living room and without breaking stride, marched straight up to Donovan and slapped him hard across the face.
‘Liar!’ She shoved him in the chest. ‘You told me Isobel would be safe. That nothing would happen to her. Liar!’
Donovan let her scream and shout. He couldn’t deny her accusations. After another push and a barrage of abusive nouns, Amanda finally sat down on the sofa, her shoulders dropping.
‘We will find her, Amanda. The police are out there looking for her now.’ God he sounded feeble. What a clichéd reassurance. Amanda wasn’t buying it. Her eyes narrowed and she rose from the sofa.
‘Once she is found I am having sole custody of her. Do you hear me? You are not capable of looking after her. No court in the country will give you custody after this … this debacle.’
‘Now’s not the time to get into an argument over custody,’ said Donovan, despite the idea alarming him.
‘I’m simply telling you, for the record, how it’s going to be. Isobel will be living with me from now on. Get used to the idea.’
‘Tell me something else, for the record,’ retorted Donovan, his anger bubbling near to the surface. ‘Why did you bring Izzy back? If you had kept her with you, like you were supposed to, then she would be safe.’
Amanda’s phone began to ring. Donovan waited whilst she slipped it out of her bag and looked at the screen. She glanced at him before dropping it back unanswered. ‘That is irrelevant now. What matters is that my daughter comes back safe and well. And comes back to me. And you can make plans to sack that useless nanny as well. I won’t be employing her, that’s for sure.’
‘Don’t start blaming E
llen. This isn’t the time for recriminations,’ retorted Donovan. He had never in his life felt so desperate. Waiting at the house for news was like having an axe swaying over his head, held only by a cotton thread. Any minute now there would be bad news and the thread would break.
‘Why aren’t you out there looking for her?’ said Amanda. ‘What sort of father are you? Can’t look after your daughter and now you can’t even go and find her.’
The urge to return the favour of the slap was tempting. If Amanda had been a bloke she would be sprawled flat out on the floor by now. ‘I have to stay here in case there’s a phone call. The police work better without the public getting in the way.’ He opened the French doors as Amanda lit up a cigarette and ignored the cold blast of sea air. It couldn’t make the atmosphere any icier than it already was. ‘Just so we are clear on one thing, I’ll fight you for Izzy. You’re not taking her off to France with that dickhead Sebastian.’
Amanda looked as though she was about to reply when once again her phone started ringing. ‘I need to take this call in private,’ she said, leaving the room. She pulled the door behind her.
It seemed a bit childish, eavesdropping on his wife, but something about her tonight was unsettling Donovan. Despite all his studying, training and practice as a psychologist, she was the one person who could throw him off-kilter. She could leave him wondering about her, such was her enigmatic and complex way.
Amanda was speaking in low tones but Donovan could still just about hear what she was saying.
‘You were only supposed to be looking at the one painting.’ Her voice was business-like but low and Donovan had to strain to hear. ‘The smaller of the portraits is the one I’m interested in.’ It sounded like one of her employees had cocked up at the auctions. God help them, he thought. He remembered how she always got a kick out of reprimanding her staff. She liked to reinforce her position as boss. ‘You weren’t actually supposed to buy either of them. The bigger one is your problem, not mine. Do what you like with it but don’t involve me and don’t ring me again. I will contact you. Understand? Good.’