The Vanishing
Page 11
‘Thallium is among the most serious toxicities. As it is odourless, tasteless and colourless it has been called “the poisoner’s poison” and also “inheritance powder”. It is almost undetectable unless specific tests are carried out.’
She looked up. ‘Sounds like pretty serious stuff.’
Phoenix nodded.
Jazz kept reading.
‘Symptoms of thallium poisoning include fever, gastrointestinal problems, racing heart, hallucinations and dementia.’
Jazz sighed. ‘Poor Linda Sinclair,’ she said, ‘no wonder she thought she was going nuts. It was the poison all the time affecting her brain!’
Jazz thought for a moment. ‘I know it was hard to detect, but wouldn’t they have done a really thorough post-mortem, since she died from some mystery illness? Wouldn’t that have revealed the thallium?’
Phoenix shook his head. ‘She’d been under medical supervision—she talks about the doctor in her journal. He must have issued a death certificate and that was the end of it. There may not have been a post-mortem at all.’
‘Remember in that last journal entry she said she’d been doing research? Linda must have found out about thallium as a possible method and was going to ask Karen to arrange tests for it.’
She took out her tablet and opened up CrimeSeen. She added in the new evidence.
Jazz shuddered. It was one thing to read about a woman’s suspicions that her husband is trying to murder her in a journal, but quite another to have those suspicions confirmed scientifically.
Phoenix gave Jazz a long look. ‘We have to go to the police.’
Jazz opened her mouth to protest but Phoenix cut her off.
‘This is the evidence we’ve been looking for! This, plus the journal being in Sinclair’s house. Combined with everything else we’ve gathered, it’s direct proof that the man’s a murderer and kidnapper. We have to turn him in!’
‘It’s evidence we mostly gathered through trespassing and breaking and entering,’ countered Jazz. ‘Look, Phoenix, I agree this guy has to pay for what he’s done, but, first of all, we need to make sure that Anika gets home safely.’
Jazz looked at the time. It was 6.16 pm. ‘There’s less than two hours ’til the handover. Let’s get out to Monash Park and make sure it all goes to plan. Then we’ll know Anika’s OK, we’ll have her testimony, and—’ she pointed at the nail and hair samples, ‘—we’ve still got some of the critical evidence. We know where Sinclair lives; it’ll be easy enough to send the police to him.’
Phoenix blew out a long breath.
‘What about what Mr Belmont said, to leave it to him to deal with the handover?’ he asked.
‘We can’t let him go alone. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. Sinclair has killed before, and Mr Belmont may not be prepared for any tricks Neil has up his sleeve. Sinclair’s clearly capable of being very dangerous! What if he wants to get rid of everyone who knows about the box—including Mr Belmont? We have to see this through!’
Phoenix nodded slowly. ‘How are we going to get there?’
‘Can you ask Simon again?’
‘I’m sure I can convince him. I bet part of him is dying to know what we were really doing out in Sunshine Beach today.’ He reached for his phone.
‘You’re not going to tell him everything, are you?’ said Jazz before Phoenix started dialling.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll tell him just enough so he knows it’s serious but he doesn’t need to know we’re going to try to stop a murderer. You have to admit, a boxing coach like him would be good to have on our side in case things get messed up!’
<04:27>
Monash Park appeared as an eerie, dark landscape where the shapes of trees outlined against the night sky threw even darker shadows on the ground. Perimeter lights did little to brighten the gloomy few acres, even making the contrasting shadows seem blacker.
‘Pull over up here,’ said Phoenix.
Simon brought the ute to a stop in a dark spot near some trees. ‘I was almost scared to ask on the way,’ he said, shutting off the engine and lights. ‘But do you guys have a plan for helping your friend?’
‘Of course,’ said Phoenix, sounding more confident than he felt. ‘It’s like you always say: never go into a fight without a plan of attack.’
‘We’ll be very careful,’ said Jazz in a low voice, vague enough not to alert Simon to the real seriousness of the circumstances.
‘Look,’ said Phoenix, ‘someone’s just pulled up near the big gates!’
‘That’s the Belmonts’ car,’ said Jazz. ‘It’s our cue to sneak into position, one of us on each side of the park.’
‘I’d better stay with the vehicle,’ said Simon, ‘in case you need a fast getaway.’
Jazz looked at him, alert for any sign he was reading more into the situation, but she couldn’t tell. He did seem very cluey, so maybe Phoenix had let on more than he’d meant to about the kidnapping. In any case, Phoenix was right; it was good to know Simon was on their side.
Phoenix opened the car door and he and Jazz stepped out into the shadows.
Jazz wondered if Phoenix’s heart was racing as hard as hers was—a mixture of excitement, anxiety and terror. She realised she was gripping her hands, blistered from her efforts to open the cellar covering, into tight painful fists. She consciously made herself relax, taking in a deep breath. She needed to be calm and poised to deal with what might come next. For the moment, she forgot her stinging hands, aching muscles, and dry mouth. Everything came down to this. This was the exchange that would see her best friend returned to her from the clutches of a killer.
Beside her, Phoenix gave a determined nod. ‘OK. I’ll take the western side of the park,’ he said, indicating the far edge of the park. ‘You take this side, Jazz. The minute you see anything, text me. I’ll do the same.’
Phoenix headed off through the darkness. He found a large tree with thick overhanging boughs and pressed himself flat against the trunk. From there, he could see the centrally positioned summerhouse, a circular building with open walls and a pitched roof, slightly raised above the ground. He waited.
Jazz hurried along the wrought-iron fence that separated the park from the footpath next to the road. She thought she’d be feeling scared, being out in the night in a dark, cold park, but her powerful drive to rescue her friend overrode any such feelings.
She pushed her way into a tall hedge of shrubs that ran the length of the park’s fence, letting parts of the foliage close around her. From where she crouched, she could see most of the summerhouse. She waited. She wondered where Mr Belmont might be. Presumably he, too, was somewhere in the darkness, waiting . . .
Suddenly, the lights in the summerhouse went on. Puzzled, Jazz squinted to see what the light was revealing.
On the other side of the park, Phoenix peered around the tree to see what was happening.
A grotesque figure stood like an apparition in the centre of the summerhouse, a gargantuan shape, lumpy limbs topped by an oversized, rounded head. Footsteps echoed across the park as Mr Belmont hurried towards the summerhouse, a small, square object clutched in his hand. He, too, stopped and stared in astonishment at the giant figure in the middle of the rotunda.
Jazz blinked in disbelief. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she realised the monstrous figure was a person in a lab suit, the kind that people wore when they worked with highly contagious substances. Was it Neil Sinclair, hiding behind a disguise? The lighting made it impossible to be sure.
The figure moved, and Jazz could make out another inert shape. ‘Anika!’ she gasped. The motionless figure of her best friend, head bowed, long brown hair streaming over her shoulders from under a beanie, was slumped on the floor of the summerhouse. Any moment now, she thought, her friend would be released. Anika would be free to go home to her family. Jazz watched Mr Belmont place the jewellery box on the table in the centre of the summerhouse, close to where the huge figure watched impassively from its masked eyes.
Almost as quickly as it sounded, the siren cut out, but too late. Spooked, the kidnapper grabbed the jewellery box, and shoved Mr Belmont roughly out of its way. He fell awkwardly and tumbled down the summerhouse steps as the suited figure ran from the park.
Jazz bolted towards the summerhouse, colliding full-on with Phoenix who was pelting after Anika’s captor.
‘He’s getting away! We have to chase him!’
‘The police can deal with Sinclair,’ Jazz said. ‘I have to get to Anika!’ She pushed Phoenix aside and ran towards the summerhouse.
‘Anika! Anika! It’s OK! We’re here to take you home! Everything is going to be all right!’ she called out. There was no response. Anika did not lift her head.
‘Anika?’ she cried again as she reached her.
A dreadful fear clutched Jazz’s heart. Her friend was so still, so silent. Sinclair couldn’t have . . .
Phoenix ran past her as she hesitated, grabbing hold of Anika’s shoulder, shaking her.
The beanie fell off and Phoenix lifted Anika’s head.
But it wasn’t Anika’s head.
A painted, fixed smile and dead eyes met Jazz’s own shocked eyes—it was the wide, immobile face of what looked like a shop dummy.
Jazz felt rooted to the spot in shock and horror. She heard Mr Belmont yell out in anguish, as he slumped on the stairs behind her. Somewhere, not too far away, she was aware of the sound of a car starting up.
‘No!’ Phoenix cried.
As Jazz put out her hand to touch the dummy Anika, its body collapsed. ‘It’s just an empty body suit!’ she cried. Jazz turned to look at Phoenix, but was blinded by torchlight shining in her face.
‘Hold it right there. What do you two think you’re doing in the park at this time of night? Read the signs. It closed hours ago!’
‘Please, officer! You have to help us chase that person in the suit! Neil Sinclair!’ Jazz cried. ‘It’s not us you should be taking in!’ But it was useless. The police officer had Phoenix by the shoulder. ‘You’re trespassing. You’re both coming with me now!’
Mr Belmont, hobbling painfully, intervened. ‘It’s OK. I’ll handle these two. I can speak for them.’
The officer released his hold and Mr Belmont leaned in and whispered to Phoenix. ‘I can’t chase the kidnapper.’ He gestured at his ankle, already swelling. ‘You have to catch them—go!’
Before the police officer knew what was happening, Phoenix and Jazz turned and ran as fast as they could.
‘Simon might have seen the vehicle!’ Jazz puffed. ‘We’ve got to try and follow it. Maybe it will lead us to Anika!’
They thudded along the path, using the lights from their mobiles to guide them through the darkness of the park. They raced across the road and flung themselves into Simon’s ute.
‘Did you just see a green SUV go past?’ Jazz asked as she slid across the seat. Phoenix climbed in beside her.
‘I sure did!’ Simon replied.
‘It was Sinclair! We need to get after him to help our friend. Go, go, go!’ urged Phoenix.
‘Ah, I thought you might say that,’ Simon said, quickly screeching away from the kerb. He slid the ute around in a U-turn, then accelerated in the direction taken by the kidnapper. ‘Whoever is driving that thing sure has weird fashion sense.’
When they came to the first crossroads Simon pulled up and said, ‘Which way?’
They could see no sign of the SUV in either direction.
‘Time for eyes in the sky!’ said Phoenix. He jumped from the car and pulled his drone out of his backpack. It took a couple of minutes to set up, but as soon as its rotors were whirring Phoenix sent it up into the air, an image of all the surrounding streets now displayed on his phone screen. ‘There!’ cried Phoenix, clambering back into the car. ‘Go left!’
‘Hurry up, Simon! We can’t afford to lose him!’ yelled Jazz.
Simon hurled his old ute hard around a corner, causing Jazz to bump into Phoenix who in turn bumped his head on the window, but they didn’t care.
Jazz leaned forwards, her body charged with energy and fear. They were getting closer to the place she might find her best friend.
The green SUV was some distance ahead of them, driving through an area largely deserted, apart from a few brightly lit showroom windows where displays ranged from bathroom fittings to the occasional car sales room. In the distance, they heard a train, its rhythmic rattling the only sound apart from the engine of the utility. Beside her, Phoenix kept his eyes glued to the drone footage as the device tracked the SUV, and directed Simon at each turn.
‘He’s slowing down,’ Phoenix reported, ‘and turning off the road. Hang back, Simon, we don’t want him to know we’re here.’
They pulled up well behind the green SUV. As they watched, the car drove into the driveway of a large industrial building surrounded by a chain wire fence. Simon waited a few moments before edging slowly down the road and past the entrance. Craning their necks, they saw Sinclair’s car had stopped in a dimly lit parking space to the side of the factory complex. A suited figure was disappearing into the front door of the building, over which glowed a sign announcing the business as PathTech Lab Solutions.
‘Anika is in there, I know it,’ said Jazz. ‘We have to find her.’ She checked the time on her mobile: 9.30 pm. It had been almost 48HOURS since Anika had been taken. A horrifying thought occurred to her, and she turned to Phoenix.
‘What if Sinclair has come back to get rid of Anika, now that he thinks we’ve called the police? He knows we’ve been at his house, and must suspect we have evidence that could incriminate him.’
‘We’ve got to get in there, now,’ Phoenix said, landing the drone and reaching for the doorhandle.
‘Hang on just a sec,’ said Simon, grabbing Jazz’s arm. ‘What the hell have you two got yourselves into?’
‘We have to save my friend,’ replied Jazz.
‘Call the police,’ Phoenix instructed Simon. ‘Tell them where we are. Then stay with the ute.’
Simon went to argue, but Phoenix surprised them all and looked at him imploringly. ‘Please!’ he begged. ‘We might need to leave in a hurry.’
<02:15>
At the door to the lab, Jazz turned the handle. ‘It’s not locked,’ she hissed at Phoenix, stepping inside. As their eyes became accustomed to the dark, they saw a reception area to their left and a curtained-off area to their right. In between, a dimly lit corridor stretched ahead of them.
‘Careful,’ whispered Phoenix. ‘We mustn’t alert him.’
‘We should check behind those curtains,’ said Jazz.
‘The drone isn’t the only thing that can see in the dark,’ said Phoenix. He pulled out his phone and attached a device over the lens. Switching to camera mode, the screen at first showed nothing but blackness, then suddenly a full picture emerged.
‘Infra-red on the phone,’ whispered Jazz. ‘Nice.’
They both gasped in surprise when Phoenix aimed the phone at the curtains. Behind the long drapes, the image showed dozens of strange shapes.
‘What is all that?’ Phoenix whispered. ‘Nothing’s moving. What are they?’
Jazz crept forwards to where the curtains hung on their head-high rails. She pulled the end curtain open.
Phoenix jumped back instinctively.
‘What the—?’ Jazz’s shocked voice faltered.
For one horrifying instant, Phoenix and Jazz thought they were looking at a whole lot of ghostly corpses hanging on racks but as their eyes adjusted to the display, they realised that they were looking at lab suits, much like the ones they’d borrowed from Dr Lyons’ lab to investigate Anika’s room. Hanging here in the dim light of a deserted lab, with a killer lurking nearby, they had looked far more threatening.
‘Come on,’ Jazz said, tugging Phoenix’s arm, ‘we have to find Anika!’
>
Keeping low, the two of them scurried down the corridor to the other end, where some light showed. They paused at a glass-windowed door, but when they peeked through, they could see only a darkened hallway with another door at the end of it and many more closed doors on either side.
They went in and hurried along the hallway, opening doors and calling Anika’s name in desperate whispers. ‘Anika! Anika? Are you in here?’
‘What if she’s been drugged and can’t speak?’ Jazz whispered as they came to the last two doors on either side of the corridor. They looked in each one, stepping inside, checking thoroughly. Nothing. One was being used for storage and filled with boxes, the other an office with folders on the shelves.
Another door stood closed at the end of the hallway. Jazz reached out for the handle.
‘Wait,’ hissed Phoenix. ‘Sinclair isn’t in any of these other rooms. We don’t know where he is. What if he’s on the other side of this door?’
‘What if Anika is?’ Jazz hissed back. She turned the handle slowly. Ahead of them was a large hangar-like space, being used as a garage. Several cars marked with ‘Urgent blood delivery’ stood parked beside a stack of timber pallets.
Jazz shivered. Sinclair could be crouched down in the darkness, just waiting to pounce on them.
‘I’m going to search the vehicles,’ she whispered to Phoenix. ‘You keep an eye out for Sinclair.’ With a racing heart and almost too tense to breathe, she ran on tiptoe from car to car, softly calling her best friend’s name, silently peering through the windows while Phoenix kept a lookout by the door. No sign of Anika. She stopped after checking the last of the cars. The sudden silence felt menacing, as if they were waiting for something terrible to happen. Jazz felt goosebumps rising. Had they walked right into a trap?
‘Maybe Anika isn’t even here. Maybe Anika is—’ Jazz jumped as Phoenix put his hand on her arm.
‘Did you hear that?’ he hissed.
Jazz listened but all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. She took some deep breaths to calm herself. Finally, she breathed a little easier. ‘I can hear something. It seems to be coming from that corner over there,’ she said, pointing.