by Alex Lake
She heard his footsteps cross the barn and then a light fizzed on. It was a naked bulb, hanging from a thick, grimy beam. There was a smell of sawdust and animals and manure. Mike walked across the barn to the shadows at the back. Kate tried to see what he was doing, but she could not make it out.
Not that it would help. Ankles tied and handcuffed, there was not a lot she could do.
And then, on the seat next to her, in the pocket of his leather jacket, his phone started to buzz.
His phone. This was her chance. If she could answer it, she could ask whoever it was for help, to call the cops.
She imagined it: some worker in a call centre making the two hundredth call of the day:
Hello, I’m calling about your credit card. Don’t worry, there’s no problem—
There is a problem, she’d say. I’ve been kidnapped, by the Stockton Heath Strangler, and I need you to do something, right now.
Enough daydreaming; Kate leaned forward and bit the shoulder of the jacket. The leather was salty and smelled of Mike. She gagged, then yanked her head back so that the jacket was in her lap. Even though she was handcuffed, she could reach into the pocket with her fingers for the phone; she grabbed it and took it out.
And her eyes widened.
It wasn’t a call centre.
It was her number calling.
17
‘Look at this mess,’ Phil said. ‘What the hell happened in here?’
There was a tray on the floor, upside down and surrounded by two plates, two coffee mugs and an array of cutlery. Dark stains had spread across the carpet; scrambled egg was scattered in a wide radius.
‘Looks like there was a struggle,’ Gus said. ‘I’m calling this in. This is bad news.’
They heard footsteps in the corridor. It was May. ‘What’s happening?’ she said, then clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my God.’
‘Wait,’ Phil said. ‘She left her phone.’
It was on the floor by the bed. He picked it up.
‘It has fingerprint recognition,’ he said. ‘We set it up to recognize both of ours. I doubt Kate changed it.’
He pressed his thumb to the button. The screen switched on. Phil scanned her emails.
‘This is the one she sent to you,’ he said to Gus. He scrolled through the others. ‘Might be a clue about what she was up to. There’s a lot from this guy Mike Sadler.’
May couldn’t look him in the eye. ‘She said she’d been seeing someone.’
‘It’s fine,’ Phil said, even though he wasn’t sure that was how he felt.
‘I’m calling the station,’ Gus said. ‘In this kind of operation time is critical.’
‘Wait a second. Let me look at the photos. Maybe there’s a clue there.’
He opened the photo album.
There was one from last night. It showed Kate and a man – presumably Mike Sadler – in the foyer of the Lowry theatre. They must have asked someone to take it for them. The perfect couple.
Phil stared at it. So this was the guy that was going to take his place. It was hard to take, hard to accept, but right now there were more important things to worry about.
‘I have to call this in,’ Gus said.
‘Let me speak to Mike Sadler first,’ Phil said. ‘See if he knows where she is. If not, then we can tell that to the cops when we call them.’ He tapped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.
It took five or six rings before it answered.
‘Hello?’ a woman’s voice said. She sounded breathless, but Phil recognized her immediately.
‘Kate?’ Phil said. ‘Is that you?’
‘Yes,’ Kate said, she sounded panicked and Phil’s heart began to race. ‘Phil, thank God it’s you. Oh shit, he’s coming back. Phil, it’s Mike Sadler, the guy I’ve been seeing. He’s Colin Davidson and he’s after Beth and he’s got me in some barn and he’s going to kill me and he’s the Strangler and oh shit—’
The phone went dead.
Phil stared at Gus and May.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ he said. ‘That was Kate. She’s with Sadler – who’s Colin Davidson and he’s after Beth – and she said he’s going to kill her.’ He paused. ‘And then the phone cut off.’
18
Mike snatched the phone from her with his left hand; with his right he punched her in the side. She bent over, winded.
‘Who was that?’ he said. ‘Who did you call?’
She groaned, unable to answer. He looked at the screen.
‘They called you,’ he said. ‘From your phone. Shit.’
‘It was Phil and he knows who you are,’ Kate said. ‘And if he knows who you are then your plan is shot. You can’t pretend that I’m the latest victim of the Strangler and then disappear. He’ll be looking for you. He’ll figure this out.’
He rubbed his fingers against his temples. ‘This is like in Harry Potter,’ he said. ‘Have you read those books?’
It didn’t seem much like Harry Potter to Kate, but she nodded; yes, she had read them. Everyone had. Even serial killers, apparently.
‘Their problem in those books is that they never do what Voldemort wants,’ Mike said. ‘He makes his plans and they don’t ever do WHAT HE WANTS!’
He slammed his hands on the headrest then walked around to her side of the car, opened the door, and pulled her out onto the dirt floor of the barn. She lay on her side, her ankles and wrists bound.
‘Doesn’t matter if there’s a trace of you now, does it?’ he said. ‘Because now your stupid little boyfriend knows who I am! He knows I’m the Strangler.’ He kicked her in the thigh, hard. ‘I can leave as many traces of you as I want. Which I suppose is kind of convenient.’ He walked around her and lifted his foot, then brought it down on her cheek. She felt something break and pain spread across her face. Blood started to flow from her nose.
He was, she realized, going to kill her there and then.
‘Stop,’ she said. ‘Please. Stop.’
‘Why? I have nothing to lose now, Kate. All I want to do is kill you. Once I’ve done that, I can get to Beth, and then this will be over. But you’re no use to me now.’ He kicked her in the stomach. ‘You RUINED EVERYTHING,’ he shouted. ‘All you had to do was follow instructions, but you couldn’t even do that.’
He took a step back, getting ready for another kick – maybe the last one, Kate thought, maybe the one that killed her or left her unconscious – but, before he could deliver it, his phone rang.
He snatched it from his pocket.
‘It’s him,’ he said. ‘It’s your idiot boyfriend. What the hell does he want now?’
‘Answer,’ she said. ‘Find out.’
He glared at her, then lifted it to his ear, and walked to the far end of the barn.
Kate watched him, a thin smile on her face.
It would be Phil. She’d spent the last month or so making sure that the rest of her life was disentangled from his, and now, after all that, it was Phil she was relying on to make sure she had a rest of her life.
19
Phil sat at the kitchen table, the phone in front of him. May and Gus were standing behind him, listening. Phil had suggested that they didn’t speak; for now, it was better if Mike thought that he was only dealing with one person.
He’d looked at the photo of Mike at the Lowry theatre; it was Colin Davidson all right. He’d seen him up close the night Beth disappeared, and he remembered him well; you tended not to forget the more dramatic moments in your life.
Mike’s voice came over the phone.
‘Who is this?’ he said. ‘Who are you?’
‘You know who I am, I think,’ Phil said. ‘She’ll have said I called.’
‘Of course I do. You’re the idiot who ran around after her, wondering why she’d dumped you. Is that why you’re at her house? Snooping around again?’
Phil blushed. Even though it hardly mattered now, he didn’t want May and Gus to hear this.
‘That’s me,’ he said. ‘And I
don’t deny that I didn’t get everything right. But ultimately I did it because I loved – I still love – Kate, and I’m not ashamed of that. Not one bit.’
‘How about this, then? Your behaviour made it much easier for me to do what I did,’ Mike said, a triumphant, mocking note in his voice. ‘It made me look mature and grown up and a damn sight more attractive. And, more to the point, it made you easy to blame – I’d been in the house, looking through the files on the computer, and I made a mistake. Switched it off when she never would have done that. She thought it was you, thought that you’d been snooping. Got me out of a bit of a pickle, that did. Not ashamed of that? Even a little bit?’
This conversation was going nowhere. Phil needed to get it back on track.
‘You want to talk about shame?’ he said. ‘I know who you are. And what you’ve done. Some of it, at least.’
‘Yes, you mentioned that. So who am I, do you think?’
‘Mark Stevens, for one,’ Phil said. ‘But you’re also Colin, aren’t you? Colin Davidson. I met you back then, Colin, and I remember your face. You looked different to Mike Sadler – fatter, hair greasy and swept back, thick glasses, but I remember the night you stood on my doorstep asking where Beth was, and I remember phoning Kate and telling her that there was something not quite right about you – but there’s a photo on Kate’s phone, and it’s definitely you. You’d have been better off not coming looking for her – I’d have seen you eventually – but you couldn’t stop yourself, could you? That’s your problem, isn’t it? You can’t stop yourself.’
‘Well, well,’ Mike said. ‘So little Phil isn’t the thick as pigshit dickless wonder that Kate told me he was. He has a brain cell or two after all. Not that it’ll help.’
‘And you’re the Strangler too, correct?’
‘So it seems.’
‘What’s all this about?’ Phil said. ‘What do you want? Maybe I can help you get it.’
Mike laughed. ‘Right. You help me. Not a chance.’
‘Try me. What are you doing this for? Is it for Beth? That’s what Kate said.’
‘Yes,’ Mike said. ‘It’s for Beth. She’s what I want.’
‘You won’t get her. No one knows where she is.’
‘I already have her. Kate obliged.’
Phil tapped his foot. So that was what this was about. Mike – or Colin or whoever he was – wanted Beth, after all this time, and somehow he’d staged all this in order to find out where she was. And now he knew; which meant Phil – and Kate – had no bargaining chips.
Unless. An idea started to form. If Kate knew where Beth was, then maybe others did too.
He put the phone on mute.
‘May,’ he said. ‘Are you in touch with Beth?’
May pulled her hair back, fastening it into a ponytail. She nodded. ‘On Facebook. I haven’t sent her a message, though, not for ages. I don’t know how often she uses it. She’s not called Beth any more, though.’
‘That’s good enough. What’s her new name?’
‘Andrea Berry.’
Phil unmuted the phone.
‘There’s a problem though,’ he said, ‘isn’t there, Mike? Or Colin. What do you prefer?’
‘I don’t care. And the only person who has a problem is you.’
‘Not so,’ Phil said. ‘You know who Beth is, so you can go after her as soon as we finish talking. But I know who she is as well. Andrea Berry, correct? So what do you think I’m going to do as soon as this call is over?’
There was a long silence. Mike broke it, his voice a low growl.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘You know.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I’ll tell her that Colin Davidson is coming for her, and she’ll disappear again.’
‘Then Kate dies.’
‘But you don’t get Beth. Because as soon as you kill Kate – and by the way, if you do, then I will find you and kill you myself, so all of this will be irrelevant – I tell Beth that you’re coming and she’ll vanish like a rabbit down a hole. And then the cops find out about you and you’ll have to do the same. It won’t be easy for you, Mike. It won’t be easy at all. But if you return Kate, Beth will never know that you’re coming.’
Mike chuckled. ‘You’re offering me Kate for Beth? Right. But the minute I hand Kate back you’ll be straight on the phone to Beth,’ he said. ‘That’s not going to work. Make a better offer, Phil.’
‘That’s it for now, Mike. That’s the best offer on the table.’
‘Then it’s not good enough.’ He paused. ‘So we’re at an impasse. Kate’s with me; Beth’s with you.’
‘You need to bring her home,’ Phil said, his voice rising. ‘You can’t—’
‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,’ Mike said. ‘Let me tell you what’s going to happen next. You’re going to figure out a way to get me what I want. When you do, call me and we can talk. And in the meantime, no one else gets involved. No cops. Understand? I see a cop and she dies. Got it?’
‘Yes.’
‘I mean it. No cops. Say it.’
‘No cops.’
The line went dead.
Phil looked at May and Gus.
‘Well,’ he said. His head was spinning and his legs felt weak. ‘She’s alive, at least.’
‘We have to involve the authorities,’ Gus said. ‘They can trace his phone. Find out where he is.’
‘No,’ Phil said. ‘You heard him. No police.’
‘We don’t have to send them in. We could ask them to find out where he’s holding Kate.’
‘Right,’ Phil said. ‘And they’ll stand about waiting while we bargain with the serial killer?’ He shook his head. ‘No. They’ll take over, and Kate will be killed.’
‘We have to,’ Gus said. ‘We have no choice.’
20
Phil paced the kitchen.
‘You heard him,’ he said. ‘Mike or Mark or Colin or whatever the fuck he’s called. We can’t send the police in. He’ll kill her.’
Gus shook his head. ‘We have ways,’ he replied. ‘They’ll get a rapid response unit in. Move to the target, throw in smoke grenades. Whatever it takes.’
‘Right,’ Phil said. ‘And they’ll get their man. But not before he kills Kate.’
‘He won’t have time to. We have snipers. We know how to do this.’
Phil stopped. He leaned on his hands. ‘Forgive me if I don’t share your confidence. And even if you guys are so amazing, what if he sees them coming? What then?’
‘He won’t. They’re experienced at this kind of thing.’ Gus massaged his temples with his forefingers. ‘And my job’s on the line. If it came out that I knew about this and didn’t tell anyone—’
‘Is that what this is about?’ Phil said. ‘Your job? Well, excuse me for being presumptuous, but I think Kate’s life may come first.’
‘No,’ Gus said. ‘That’s not what—’
‘Gus,’ May said. ‘She’s my best friend. We can’t risk it.’
Gus looked out of the window. ‘She’s my friend too. And trust me, if anything happens to her I’ll never forgive myself. But that doesn’t change the facts. We have to involve the police. It’s the best chance we have. The only chance.’
‘No,’ Phil said. ‘We can’t.’
‘Then what are you going to do, Phil? Storm the place yourself? You’re a project manager, for fuck’s sake.’ Gus stood up. ‘Come on, what’s your idea? Build a project plan with key deliverables and milestones? Develop a metrics framework and project tracking methodology?’
‘Gus,’ May said quietly. ‘Please.’
‘This is what we do, May!’ Gus said. ‘This is why we have the police! This guy’s a serial killer – eight victims that we know of, and counting – and this is a chance to catch him.’
‘Kate can’t be collateral damage,’ Phil said. ‘Her safety comes first.’
‘And the best way to guarantee her safety is by telling the competent authorities.�
��
‘It’s that word that bothers me,’ Phil said. ‘Competent.’
‘Then I come back to my question, Phil. What are you going to do? You don’t know where he is and you don’t have any way of finding out.’
Phil clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding back and forth.
‘What will the police do?’ he said.
‘They’ll locate the phone signal. Send a team in.’ He caught Phil’s gaze. ‘This is the right decision,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
While Gus made phone calls in the yard, Phil and May sat at the kitchen table.
‘This is unbearable,’ May said, her eyes wet with tears. ‘I can’t stop thinking of her. What she must be going through.’ She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. ‘I’m so worried that we’ll never see her again. And none of this would have happened if we’d kept more of an eye on her in Turkey.’
‘This isn’t your fault,’ Phil said. ‘It isn’t anyone’s fault, except his. Except that bastard who took her.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ May said. ‘I feel so powerless, sitting around here, waiting to find out what happens. Whether she lives or dies.’
‘I know,’ Phil said. ‘But there is something we could do. Something we have to do.’
‘What?’
‘We have to contact Beth.’
21
Mike – she still thought of him as Mike and she wasn’t ready to make the effort to change that – opened the car door and sat on the passenger seat, his feet on the ground in front of her eyes. He had dust on his shoes and the hem of his jeans and a hard, angry look on his face.
Her ribs ached where he had kicked her. Her nose and cheek throbbed, the result of the stamp on her face.
But she had a feeling this was only the start of the pain. She steeled herself. She could take it.
‘What is it?’ she said. ‘What did Phil say?’
‘You told him who I am,’ Mike said. ‘And he saw a picture on your phone. The one at the theatre.’ He shook his head. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have let that fucking Chinese bitch take it.’ He banged his fist on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck. The one person who met Davidson saw that fucking photo.’