by Joy Ellis
‘I’m sure they wouldn’t,’ Marie said. ‘But they might have heard rumours about it, mightn’t they?’
The vicar sat back again. ‘I suppose so. Boys?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘I’ve never heard of it, but I’d guess Toni Clarkson could help you. She was always on about some place where you could get legless for free. Not my kind of scene.’ He bit his lip. ‘And, if you must know, that was one reason why we broke up.’
‘Good thing she dumped you. Cheap tart,’ muttered Nicholas. But Jackman had seen his expression. Nicholas knew more about the drinking club than he was letting on.
‘And you, Nicholas? Anything filtered your way?’
‘Nah.’ He shifted slightly in his seat. ‘Dunno what you’re on about.’
Jackman did not believe him, and he knew Marie didn’t either, but neither of them commented. It would be better to get the boy on his own. ‘And finally, Reverend Barley, would you know who holds a key for the old chapel out on the Fen Road?’
Jackman glanced quickly at the two boys. Ethan maintained an indifferent expression, but Nicholas gave a small start that he hastened to cover up.
‘Well, I do actually. Why do you ask?’ The vicar looked bemused.
‘We are checking all deserted and unsafe buildings,’ said Jackman. ‘Because of the missing girl. Could we please trouble you to either unlock it for us, or let us have the key temporarily?’
‘Of course. I’ll get it for you now.’ He eased himself up, and the sofa squeaked again, probably with relief.
He came back and handed Jackman a metal keyring with a tattered card label attached to it. ‘I wouldn’t like to say how long it is since the door was opened, DI Jackman. I think it must have been last autumn when we had all those high winds. The bell tower collapsed and we checked inside for other damage. Since then it’s remained shut up.’
Jackman wasn’t so sure about that. He nodded and took the keys.
The vicar glanced at the mantle clock. ‘I’d come with you, but I have an appointment with one of my parishioners in fifteen minutes.’
‘No problem, sir. We’ll bring them straight back.’ Marie looked around and smiled. ‘Maybe one of your lads would like to come down there with us?’
‘No way.’ Nicholas rose from his couch with unprecedented speed and headed for the door. ‘Stuff to do.’
Ethan placed a hand behind one ear. ‘Oh yeah. I can hear the plaintive cry of an abandoned PlayStation.’
‘Get stuffed!’
‘I’ll go with you.’ Ethan didn’t sound exactly enthusiastic, but he had volunteered.
‘Good boy,’ said the vicar. ‘Do you have children, DI Jackman?’
‘No, although my brother has boys and, when I can, I spend time with them.’
The vicar shook his head. ‘Well, they are a blessing and a curse. I somehow suspect that Nicholas will not be following in his brother and sister’s footsteps to university.’
‘I doubt he’ll even make it to the Job Centre,’ added Ethan grimly.
The reverend sighed. ‘We mustn’t give up on him, son. Maybe he’ll surprise us all one day.’
By the look of his younger son, the only surprise Reverend Barley was likely to get would be an unpleasant one.
As Jackman drove back towards the chapel he glanced in the rear view mirror at Ethan. He was not the kind of boy he had expected, considering Neil and Ellen Clarkson’s rather scathing opinion of him. Above all, even disregarding their age difference, Jackman could not picture him with the belligerent, lippy young Toni.
‘So what are you studying?’ Jackman asked, smiling into the mirror.
‘Politics and International Relations. I’m doing a degree at Nottingham.’
‘Are you going to specialise?’
‘I’m planning on doing Globalisation in my third year.’
‘Interesting. Did I hear your father mention that your sister is also at uni?’
Ethan’s narrow face broke into a smile. ‘Oh yes. Daybreak is the brains of the family.’
‘Daybreak?’ Marie queried.
‘Her name’s Dawn, but she hates it. She calls herself, Danni. Daybreak’s my version of her real name. She’s at Oxford studying Theology. Dad is over the moon. If it weren’t for Nick, he’d really believe he’d been thrice blessed.’
‘You do know that your brother knows about this drinking club?’ said Marie casually.
‘What? Nick? You’re kidding!’ Ethan laughed. ‘Nick would need satnav to find his own belly button. He’s thick as sh—, as two short planks. He’d never be clever enough to keep quiet about something like that.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Marie. ‘He reacted when we mentioned it. He almost slid down the back of the couch.’
‘I can’t believe that.’
Jackman gave a shrug. ‘We’ll see, shall we? Forgive me for saying this, but what on earth did you see in Toni Clarkson? You two seem poles apart.’
Ethan took a deep breath. ‘Don’t be deceived by Toni, Inspector. She’s far cleverer than she lets on. What did I see in her? Well, I loved the way she kept true to herself, despite her family’s wealth. I loved the way she kicked against the system. I saw a free spirit, and I think I may know her better than she knows herself.’
Jackman turned into the lane leading to the chapel.
‘She’ll calm down as she grows up.’ Ethan spoke more like her mentor than a former boyfriend. ‘You might not believe it, but Toni can be really sweet when you get her away from her friends.’
Jackman pulled up and switched off the engine. In the sudden quiet Ethan said, ‘She had a close call, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, Ethan, she did.’ Jackman’s expression was grave. ‘About as close as it gets. We believe she narrowly escaped being abducted.’
‘Is she allowed visitors?’
‘She may be going home this afternoon, so ring first, but yes, I think it would do her good to see a friendly face.’
They got out of the car and walked up to the entrance. Jackman had decided to check the main chapel before they went into the cellar.
Ethan brushed plaster dust from his skinny jeans. ‘What a dump!’
‘Have you been in here before?’ Marie asked.
‘I was at home when the storm hit. I came down with my father and a few of the parishioners to check for damage.’
‘Did Nicholas go with you?’
The boy frowned. ‘Come to think of it, he did, which was pretty weird. He doesn’t usually help with anything.’
They scoured the old building for some ten minutes, finding nothing but dusty broken masonry and pigeon droppings.
‘Okay, let’s check the cellar, shall we?’
‘There’s a cellar?’ asked Ethan. ‘On these silty fens? I never knew that.’
Marie nodded. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a crypt really. There’s a door round the back.’
They watched his face, but saw only mild surprise. It intensified when he watched them lift aside matted nettles and brambles to expose the steps down to the door.
‘Bloody hell!’ He glanced at Marie and shook his head in disbelief. ‘I bet my father doesn’t know about this. What do you think is down there?’
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Jackman decided that the boy actually looked genuinely stunned by their discovery.
Marie tried the smallest of the three keys into the lock. The old door swung open more smoothly than it ought to have done, and they stepped inside.
The crypt was a large open area. It had a stone floor, a low ceiling, and the remnants of one mega party.
Ethan let out a low whistle.
Marie glanced at Jackman. ‘I think we just found one of the venues for that drinking club.’
Jackman gazed around the crypt. Bottles, cans, plastic glasses, cigarette packets and dog-ends, and dozens of spent candles were strewn across the floor.
‘This is gross.’ Ethan’s navy and white Converse boot kicked at a used condom. ‘This was
a place of worship.’
Jackman noted the disgust on his face. Ethan might be a student radical, but his father’s influence was clearly still there.
‘So was Medmenham Abbey,’ said Jackman, ‘And look what the Hellfire Club used that for.’
‘It’s still gross.’
‘It is. Now, I wonder how the partygoers got hold of the key for this place?’ Marie directed a shrewd glance and a raised eyebrow towards Ethan.
Ethan Barley stared back, wide eyed. ‘Nick? Oh no, surely you can’t think—?’
‘I do, actually.’
Jackman was picking his way through crushed lager cans and discarded crisp packets. He called back, ‘Sorry, Ethan, but I’m with Marie on this. I think your brother is more savvy than you give him credit for.’
Ethan turned pale. ‘My father will kill him if he finds out.’
‘I hope you mean that figuratively.’
The boy said nothing.
‘I am afraid that we are going to need these keys,’ said Marie, dangling the ring on her index finger. ‘We need to seal this place up, and get a SOCO down here.’
‘Forensics?’ Ethan’s eyes grew wider.
‘This may have been the place that Toni and Emily were brought to.’ Marie said gently.
He stared at the floor. ‘If you find evidence that my brother has something to do with this, he’ll be in serious trouble, won’t he?’
‘Up to his sticky-out ears, I’m afraid.’ Marie pushed her hands deep into her pockets. ‘Unless, of course, you could get him to talk to us. We’d be a lot more lenient with him then.’
‘And, Ethan, we need to know if there has been another key cut,’ Jackman added. ‘Do you think you could find out for us? Meanwhile we’ll say nothing about suspecting that Nicholas may be involved.’
‘I need some air.’
Ethan walked slowly back through the door and up the steps. Shoulders hunched, he went over to a low wall that edged the churchyard, and sat down heavily.
Jackman went over and sat down beside him. ‘We could be wrong. But we have to find out what’s going on, you realise that, don’t you, Ethan?’
Ethan nodded. ‘I’ll help — for my family’s sake, and for Toni and the other girl.’ He looked at Jackman. ‘Is this Emily in serious danger?’
‘What do you think, Ethan? According to Toni she was drugged and dragged away, God knows where. She hasn’t been seen since. It doesn’t get much more dangerous than that.’
The boy bit his lip and stared at the ground. ‘I’ll do all I can with Nicholas.’
Marie walked over to them. ‘I’ll call this in, sir, and get uniform down here. Then we’ll get Ethan home.’
Back at the vicarage, Jackman gave the boy his card. ‘Any time, day or night, okay?’
Ethan nodded and pocketed it. ‘I hope you find her.’
Jackman glanced at Marie as they pulled away. ‘He’s not a bad kid, but his brother gives me the creeps. No mention of a mother.’
‘I’m guessing she’s dead,’ Marie said flatly. ‘I saw some photographs in the lounge, all rather old. No new ones.’
‘Mmm, I rather thought the same.’
‘Maybe that’s why Nicholas is so . . .’ Marie shrugged. ‘Hard to find a word to describe him, isn’t it?’
‘I can think of a few, but none are repeatable.’ Jackman grinned at her, and then the smile faded. ‘This whole thing is getting complicated, Marie, and I keep thinking about the fact that we are supposed to be finding time to reopen the Kenya Black case.’ He sighed. ‘We need to get to the bottom of these clubs fast. If we can close them down and collar the men behind them, we stand a good chance of halting the abductions.’
‘And finding our missing girl.’ Marie nodded, almost to herself. ‘Well, at least we now have a starting point. The chapel was definitely a venue. We will certainly find forensic evidence there, so . . .’ She smiled at him. ‘It’s a positive thing, sir. We are moving forward at last.’
Jackman was glad of Marie’s confident approach, but hoped that they would not encounter yet another obstacle.
Or worse still, another missing girl.
CHAPTER TEN
Max stretched and pushed back his chair. ‘Hot chocolate?’ he called across to where Rosie sat at her computer.
She looked up and smiled. ‘I’d kill for one, as they say.’
Max walked out to the vending machine, and glanced back at her. Rosie was still staring at the monitor, idly twisting her hair into a tight corkscrew. He smiled. He’d often noticed her doing that when she concentrated.
As he sorted out some change, he wondered why he’d always taken Rosie for granted. They were on different teams but had worked in the same office for years, so why hadn’t he found out more about her. He knew she was one of three girls, all in the police force, and all in different divisions, and that she had a flat over a flower shop in the High Street. End of. She was supposed to be his colleague, maybe even his friend. Should he ask her to go for a drink with him?
Max pushed the coins hard into the machine. They had a missing girl to find, and he needed to keep his mind firmly on that. This was no time for idle daydreams.
* * *
PCs Andy English and Kevin Stoner sat in their squad car and appraised the scene before them.
Windrush was a massive old Gothic Victorian property, sitting in overgrown parkland that rose up on a hill that bordered the marsh. It must have been quite something in its heyday, but those times were definitely over.
‘Oh my,’ murmured Andy. ‘We’ll need a fortnight to check this dump thoroughly.’
Kevin didn’t answer. He was still trying to take in the scale of the old mansion. The main house was more or less intact, but someone was apparently demolishing some of the outbuildings. Piles of rubble and stacks of old timber were heaped along the edge of the lawn, and Kevin could see a plume of grey smoke rising from around the back.
‘Well, someone is here.’ He pointed to the smoke. ‘Let’s go have a word.’
Andy nodded. The two policemen stepped out onto the weed-covered gravel drive and slammed the car doors. They made their way towards a flight of stone steps that led up to the main entrance.
A JCB stood at the foot of the steps. They both heard a soft ticking sound as they passed it.
Andy nodded at it. ‘Engine’s cooling down. You’re right about someone being around.’
‘What are they doing with this place?’ murmured Kevin.
‘No idea. I haven’t been out this way for years.’
Kevin pushed open one of two big front doors and they stepped into a huge foyer. ‘Fenland Constabulary!’ he called out. ‘Anyone home?’ His voice echoed across the cracked marble floor, up the empty staircase.
‘Must be outside.’ Together they walked around to the side of the house.
On what was left of an expanse of concrete patio was a battered metal skip with a thick plank of wood resting against the lower edge. As they approached it, they saw a mountain of a man, his fat hands gripping the rubber handles of a loaded builder’s wheelbarrow, stride effortlessly up the plank. With a roar, he heaved upward and sent the weighty contents crashing down into the dented old container. With a deft twist, he turned the cement-caked barrow and marched down.
Sweat dripped from a brow that creased into a scowl of disapproval when his eyes fell on the two policemen.
Kevin fought to retain his normal calm expression as he gazed at the ugliest man he had ever seen. ‘Er, good afternoon, sir. Are you the owner here?’
Every inch of the man’s huge frame flashed a warning signal.
‘No.’ The frown deepened and he added, ‘There’s nothing here for you. This is private property.’
‘Sorry, sir, but we have a young woman missing.’ Kevin tried to look taller and tougher than he actually was, but gave up quickly. ‘We are checking all the unoccupied buildings in the area, and we’d like the owner’s permission to have a look around.’
Some
thing darted across the giant’s face. Andy found his expression hard to read, but the mention of the girl had clearly affected him in some way.
‘Oh, well, that’s different.’ He didn’t smile at them, but his anger seemed to abate somewhat. ‘A girl, you say? Well, I’ve been out here from dawn to dusk for the past month and I’ve seen no one.’
‘It’s a big place, sir. She could have sneaked in, or been brought here, and you’d not necessarily have noticed. We do need to have a look, I’m afraid.’
‘Yes, of course, uh, I don’t suppose the owner, Mr Broome, would object.’ He brushed dirt from his meaty hands and wiped them down his trouser legs. ‘But I’ll have to come with you. This place is not safe. And some of it is locked. I’ll need to get the keys. Oh, and you’ll need hard hats too. Health and safety, and all that crap.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Andy politely. ‘And you are . . . ?’
The man took his time. ‘Micah. I’m Micah Lee, Mr Broome’s caretaker. He don’t come here too often, so I keeps an eye on things for him.’
‘And you are doing a lot of work too,’ added Kevin, looking at the site that Micah was in the process of clearing. ‘What are the plans for this place?’
‘It’s a big project, a dream really. But you’d better ask Mr Broome about that. I’ll give you his card when we go into my office.’ He sniffed loudly. ‘Now, come with me and we’ll get those hats.’
An hour later, their shoes scuffed and their uniforms dirty, the two policemen decided that enough was enough.
‘No one has been here, have they?’ grumbled Kevin.
‘They’d be barking if they did,’ added Andy, rubbing plaster dust from his trouser leg. ‘This place is a death trap.’
Kevin looked at Micah. ‘Sorry to have disturbed you, Mr Lee. Good luck with the project.’ He grimaced. ‘Because I reckon you are going to need it.’
‘Oh it’ll happen, you’ll see, Officer. It will take time, but Mr Broome will get his dream one day.’
Kevin opened the car door and sank gratefully down into the driver’s seat. ‘I hope so, sir.’ He turned on the ignition, waved, and then drove down the wide driveway as swiftly as he could.
‘Bloody hell! That was one ugly son-of-a-bitch, wasn’t it?’