The Fenton Saga: Never Say Goodbye / There Was No Body.

by Colin Griffiths

  Daniel was the first to speak.

  ‘Why send a picture of Wendy’s clothes to me? Do you think they got the wrong phone?’

  Todd pondered this. He had been deep in thought. He had this deep inner feeling of despair. He had, had it before and it had never been wrong. He thought about the other day when he sat in his wardrobe, the feeling of despair that enveloped him.

  He gave a big sigh, then spoke.

  ‘Or the wrong girl,’ he sighed. They all looked at Todd.

  ‘He mentions your name, Daniel. He knows you. He obviously thinks its Becky he’s got.’

  Becky put her hand over her mouth, letting out a faint scream, realising the full horror of what Todd was saying. Her mouth had dried up. She tried licking her lips. Her whole mouth was dry. She sipped some coffee and listened as Todd continued.

  ‘He’s got your number from Wendy’s phone. He's got her phone. That’s why we can't contact her. He wants to hurt you, Daniel and the only way he knows how, is through the people you love. As long as he thinks it’s Becky, then maybe Wendy will be okay.’

  Becky burst into tears. Carol held her hands, listening intently to what Todd was saying.

  ‘He isn’t going to hurt her. He's going to use her to get at you. We need to know what his end game is. Wendy’s clever, the cleverest girl I know. She will have realised that telling him her real name will be dangerous. We will play his game,’ he paused ‘for now.’

  Carol looked at her two sons, stunned. How could he know all this, she thought? Her stomach cramped up.

  ‘Who?’ she asked. ‘Who the bloody hell are you talking about?’ The two brothers looked at each other, then at their mother, who was now standing with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.

  ‘Dad.’ Daniel said. ‘The bastard is back, just as I thought he would be.’ He paused. ‘I will kill him.’

  Her heart sank. She fell back onto the sofa. She was shaking, not with fear, but with anger.

  ‘Becky, get me a vodka, sweetheart?’ she asked. Not really knowing how the vodka would help, but she needed something stronger than the coffee she had been given.

  Becky went into the kitchen and was soon back with two vodkas, one for herself.

  ‘I won't let him ruin us.’ Carol said, taking a large gulp of the vodka and coke.

  Daniel went over to his mum, the strongest willed lady he had ever known. He put his arms around her and held her close. Carol could feel the strength of his arms. At that moment, it made her feel safe.

  ‘What do we do now?’ she asked

  ‘We text him back.’ Daniel said and he took the phone from Todd.

  ‘We try to find his end game and then we finish him.’ He hit reply on the phone and typed in. ‘Don’t hurt her, Dad. I will do whatever you ask.’

  He looked at Todd, who nodded. Daniel pressed send.

  Daniel took his mother’s hand and then Becky’s. ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell the cops and don't tell her mother. We've made one mistake already by bringing them in.’

  ‘Do we just sit here and wait for a reply? What if he doesn’t reply?’ Carol asked.

  ‘He will, eventually and we don't just sit and wait. I have a friend on the force. He will tell me where the bastard lives. I might have to go and pay daddy a visit.’

  ‘Not on your own.’ Todd said.

  ‘Definitely not.’ Carol said.

  ‘Count me in.’ said Becky.

  Carol poured another vodka. Becky did the same.

  Daniel got his phone out. It was time to call in a favour.

  ***

  Wendy’s mother, Helen, sat at her home with her father and sister comforting her. She had texted Wendy’s phone three times now, but of course, she received no reply. Her eyes were red. She hadn’t really approved of her daughter’s relationship with Todd. She thought they were both far too young and she had hoped that Wendy would go to college and try to get a better education. There were murderers in that family, she had told her daughter. How much she now wished she had never said it. If she could just hold her and tell her how sorry she was.

  Meanwhile, forty five minutes away over the Severn Bridge into England, in a run-down tower block on a council estate in Bristol. Wendy was sitting with two people she hadn’t really known before today had begun. She was eating pizza, and drinking lager. Anyone who didn’t know her and saw the three of them together, would simply think they were having a good time.

  Chapter 17

  Tracy Bates left the Fenton’s with Stuart, the rookie cop. It was still only just after 8.30. The cafe stayed open until ten o’clock. She was hungry. She was supposed to finish at ten, but eating now would save her having to do something later. It was a lovely summer’s evening with a slight breeze. As the sun set behind the church with its high steeple, she thought how lovely it looked and how nice this place was for a council estate. She wanted to take a photo on her phone, but she didn’t not with the rookie cop there. She was feeling a bit sad. She hadn’t realised that Daniel was married. So she would have to look elsewhere. There are plenty more fish in the sea and she did have all the assets to catch them.

  They drove the short distance to Ashbourne Cafe, which was fairly busy with people eating food and drinking soft drinks. The nice evening had brought people out for their tea or a bite to eat before going to the pub. No one was waiting at the counter to be served.

  Tracy told Stuart to find a seat while she ordered food. She was still feeling chuffed at getting Daniel’s phone number, although now she wasn’t going to use it. It had annoyed Becky and she liked that. Becky was too big for her boots and she would have to bring her down a peg or two. Swearing at her like she had done, in front of Stuart, just wasn’t on. After all, she was the law and Becky Fenton was not above the law.

  She ordered two burgers and fries with diet cokes and whilst ordering she asked the cashier if the manager was available and could she have a word.

  ‘We don't have managers. We have an owner.’ came the reply.

  Sandy Potts, the forty six year old owner of Ashbourne Cafe liked a man in uniform. To Sandy a woman copper as pretty as her, was just trouble in her mind and asking questions could only mean one thing. There was going to be trouble on the estate tonight. The customers didn’t take much notice of the two uniformed coppers, assuming they had just come in to eat. Although there was no station on the estate itself, the police from Newport very often toured the estate. They suffered abuse, but there was very rarely any trouble on the estate, which made it a favourite posting for the police.

  Tracy made her way to the table where Stuart was sitting, the same table that the kidnappers had been sitting, earlier in the day. She sat beside Stuart and they opened their burger boxes and placed the chips in one side. Stuart covered his with ketchup. That disgusted Tracy.

  ‘Takes away all the flavour,’ she told him. Stuart just grunted. Sandy Potts soon followed them over and sat opposite them, with the table now between them. She held out her hand and introduced herself as the proprietor of Ashbourne Cafe. Both officers took her hand and introduced themselves, Tracy emphasising the Sergeant part. Tracy took a bite of her burger and put two chips in her mouth. This annoyed Sandy as she was here to talk, not watch a busty copper eat.

  When she finally, swallowed her mouthful she said to Sandy.

  ‘We have come to talk to you about Wendy Cross. I believe she works here?’ Sandy Potts was no fool and Wendy was one of her best employees, also a good friend. She loved her and the Fenton’s, as if they were her own family. If Wendy was in trouble, there was no contest whose side she would be on. This cop’s getting nowt from me, she thought.

  ‘And?’ Sandy replied.

  So annoying, thought Tracy. She swallowed what she had put in her mouth. She licked her lips, then wiped her fingers with the paper serviette.

  ‘I just love these burgers.’ She put three chips in her mouth and with her mouth still full, she said.

  ‘Well, the thing is, sweetheart,’
she swallowed, ‘No one’s seen her since she left work. It appears she hasn't arrived home.’ Sandy shuffled in her chair.

  The conversation had taken a worrying turn, she realised.

  ‘I am not, your sweetheart.’ she said sharply, ‘What do you mean, she hasn't arrived home?’

  ‘No one’s seen her,’ she put another chip in her mouth.

  ‘Have you checked her mother and boyfriend?’

  ‘Of course,’ she took another annoying bite of her burger.

  Sandy paused for thought, finally deciding to co-operate.

  ‘I was on at three. Wendy finished at five. She told me she was having a night in with her mum, a bottle of wine and a DVD. She asked me to get cover and to come along. I would have, but it was too short a notice for the girls. Its summer holiday season and I ain’t hiring more staff. We all just got to chip in.’

  Sandy stopped, realising all this was irrelevant.

  ‘Did you see her leave?’

  ‘Not actually saw her. She got changed out of uniform, said goodbye and went out the back way, because I asked her to go out to the bins before she left. She may have come back through or gone around, but that’s the long way. Easier to come back through and go out the front.’

  Stuart started to speak, Tracy hushed him. He took a massive bite of his burger, sauce spilling from the sides onto the table.

  Both women looked at him, in disgust.

  ‘What?’ he mumbled.

  Directing her attention back to Sandy, Tracy asked, ‘Do you have CCTV?’

  ‘Not out the back. There’s only one window and that has bars on it. There’s only the bins out there. If people are that desperate to rummage through bins, they’re welcome to.’

  ‘The front?’ Tracy said sarcastically, as if she had already asked.

  Sandy had now decided she really didn’t like Tracy Bates.

  Sandy said, in a matter of fact voice.

  ‘We have four cameras in the cafe, at different angles, and two at the front. They give good coverage, I believe. The council has one showing the street, whether it works or not I don’t know. You’ll have to ask them. If she left through the front, you will see her.’

  ‘Is there anyone here now, who was on at the time?’ Asked Tracy.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can you give me their details? I may need to speak to them.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘May I see the CCTV?’

  ‘Sure.’

  They walked into the back room, through the kitchen and into a store room that housed the CCTV equipment. It didn’t take long for Sandy to rewind the recording to when Wendy finished. They watched her saying goodbye. The timer said 4.57.

  ‘It may not be exact,’ Sandy pointed out, ‘but it’s within a minute or two.’

  They watched the CCTV until 5.15. Wendy was not seen again. It was obvious she had not come back into the cafe. ‘Maybe she had closed the door. You can't get back in if you do that. Someone on the inside has to open it for you, or you leave it on the latch, but I tell the girls not to do that in case they forget about it.’

  ‘I’ll need copies.’ Sergeant Bates said. ‘Preferably, all day.’

  ‘It will take ages. Our CCTV is the best, but putting them on disc is slow. The writer is really shit. I’ll see what I can do, but I'm not making any promises.’

  ‘I’ll call for them tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, that can be done. I’ve only got to set it up. I don't have to stand here and watch it. Can't make it go faster. Once it’s done, it’s done.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll go out the back way. I just want to take a look.’ Said Tracy.

  ‘Sure, but if you want to come back in, you'll have to come round the front, or knock and hope someone hears you. I’m not leaving the door open.’

  Tracy sighed. ‘That won't be necessary we will be leaving.’

  Sandy looked shocked. ‘That’s it. A young girl goes missing and that’s it.’

  The sergeant looked at her, confused. ‘It isn’t a murder inquiry, sweetheart.’

  Sweetheart again. Sandy was annoyed.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask if there had been people acting suspiciously or anything?’

  ‘Well, were there?’ Tracy said, smugly.

  ‘As a matter of fact, yes. I thought a decent copper would have asked.’

  That wound Tracy up big time. She ignored the comment, but mentally she marked Sandy’s ticket.

  Sandy gave the coppers a description of two people who had recently been coming into the cafe, ordering a coffee and just sitting for hours, on at least three occasions. Wendy had been on at those times and had told Sandy about them.

  ‘They’re on the tape.’ she said.

  Tracy thanked her, taking the list of employee’s details, before she left.

  Tracy was annoyed with herself. Why the hell she hadn't asked that question? She should have been more professional. Letting herself be caught out by a greasy spoon owner had annoyed her. Stuart had smiled secretly and smugly. It was the question he had been about to ask before Tracy shut him up.

  ‘Fucking amateurs!’ Sandy said, as she closed the door behind them, her mind wandering to concern for her best employee.

  She phoned Daniel and told him all about her conversation with Tracy Bates, again calling them fucking amateurs as she did so.

  She walked into the front of the café,

  ‘Were closing.’ She shouted.

  Chapter 18

  Bill had left the two girls with his friend, now the girl’s minder, Jezz. He had one last job to do for the Governor, before he could put his plan into action. Well, it was half a plan really. Bill, not being the most organised, Bill knew he hadn’t fully thought this through. He worked on instinct and instinct had served him well in the past, except for seventeen years in prison. That had been a mere blip. Instinct was what he was good at. The Governor, being Judge and Jury of everything that happened in the St. Paul’s area, was a man of great substance. He was feared by everyone, even the police. He was a drug dealer, a loan shark and had so many cops in his pocket he was impossible to catch. The Governor liked Bill and Bill liked him.

  ‘Keep going on like this and you’ll soon be my number two.’ he had told Bill.

  Bill thanked him, but he didn’t want to be his number two. He had unfinished business and when that business was finished he would kill the Governor and be Number One. Bill Fenton would never settle for second. He was a leader, a warrior. No number two would never be enough for him. He had told the Governor this would be his last job for a while. The Governor, who was British, born of West Indian descent, stood six feet seven and weighed in at twenty two stone. Being as solid as a rock and what Bill had told him was okay with him. He looked after his good employees, although he was surrounded by good men, he trusted Bill who proved to be one of his best. It was arranged that Bill would give the money to Jess, to pass on, minus the twenty per cent commission that Bill got. Bill thought it was easy money and would keep him in the groove. He didn’t know how long it was going to take, but he wouldn’t be doing any collecting for a while. Maybe never again.

  The place he was going to, was only a mile away from where he lived. A remarkably improved area despite the short distance, but the Governor and his mob still had control of the area. Bill drove and parked four hundred yards away from the block of terraced houses, whose back gardens were overlooked by allotments.

  After checking that the coast was clear, he easily made it through the allotments, over the fence and into the back garden of the house he wanted. It would have been just as easy, and less conspicuous, if he had gone to the front door, but Bill liked it this way. It made the job seem more exciting. He had delusions of being a soldier, a warrior. He loved this part of the job, sneaking around unseen and then arriving unexpectedly. The surprise on the faces was the best thing. Oh, how he loved the look on their faces.

  Opening the lock would have been easy. He had the tools in his bag, enabling him to do so. Very
few locks held him out. It was a craft he had learned in prison, so he was somewhat disappointed to find the back door open. People are so irresponsible, he said to himself. He sniggered. He now stood in the living room of the two occupants of the house. It was quite nicely furnished, a large room, quite surprising, as the house had looked small from the outside.

  There was a brown, leather three-piece suite, a nice oak dining table with six chairs, and a sideboard. Playing on the forty two inch plasma screen was Sky news. He was never told the names of the people he was to collect from, just their descriptions, where they would be and what the job actually was, who to hurt and who not to. He could have easily found out their names, but he neither wanted to, nor needed to, another thing the Governor liked about him. The other thing Bill was told, was the level of violence he was expected to use if they wouldn't pay. Bill could never understand the various levels, nor did it bother him too much. Pain is pain, however you look at it. That was his motto.

  The first occupant of the house was a pretty blonde girl, about twenty seven years old, wearing jeans and a pink blouse with three buttons undone, showing a bit of cleavage. Bill liked that. She was sitting on the dining chair.

  However, her hands were behind her back, gaffa-taped to the chair and each of her legs was also gaffa-taped to a leg of a chair, so if she tried to stand, the movement would topple her over. Her mouth was gaffa-taped, her eyes wide with fright. She breathed heavily through her nose, tears streamed down her face. She didn’t even know they owed money, certainly not to the monster who now invaded her home. But this is what happens when you can’t trust people, she thought.