by James Raven
‘When I came around today my dad was here. He listened to me but said it was too late. That he had already killed the Cains. I was devastated. He begged me not to say anything because it wouldn’t change things except we’d both go to prison. He said he’d fixed it so that the police would think that Cain had murdered his wife and daughter as well as Vince.’
She fell silent and looked up at Temple, her expression hollow. He was speechless for a while as a rush of nausea passed through his system.
‘I’m not sure I believe him, though,’ Jennifer said, breaking into his thoughts.
‘Come again?’
‘When my father told me he had killed them,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it. I’m not sure it was true.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he might have said it just to stop me speaking out. You see, he argued that since they were already dead there was no point in confessing.’
‘So they could still be alive?’
‘I don’t know. He left here in a hurry. Said he was going back to the office. But maybe he didn’t.’
‘Then where are they being held? Where’s this house in the country?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He never said. He told me only that it belonged to a couple he knows in his local pub in Botley who are spending the winter in South Africa, where they have a second home.’
‘So who are they? Tell me what you know.’
‘Their names are Peter and Anne Salmon,’ she said. ‘I remember that.’
51
Seconds after the kidnapper slammed the boot shut I knew that something was wrong. I heard Maggie speaking and then Laura called out ‘Daddy’. But then the kidnapper shouted something, after which the voices began to fade. I listened carefully, curled up in the blackness of the boot. The car doors didn’t open or shut. The engine didn’t start.
I began to panic.
‘Maggie,’ I called. ‘What’s going on?’
But my voice bounced back at me in the confined space and my body started to heat up with anxiety. Where had the bastard taken them? Why weren’t they in the car? I started kicking at the body-work. Punching the boot lid with the sides of my fists. But it achieved nothing other than to cause my arms and legs to ache.
I was helpless. Again.
The moments stretched into minutes and after an agonizing wait I heard shoes on gravel. I started to shout again, half-expecting the boot to be wrenched open. But a door was opened instead. Then closed again. The engine fired up and the car began to move.
And I knew that Maggie and Laura had been left behind.
The panic grew inside me. I lay still, my body numb, my mind in disarray.
The car journey lasted just a few minutes. Then came a squeal of brakes. A door opened. I waited. Tense. My pulse went off the scale. The boot lid was pulled open and the kidnapper ordered me to get out. He helped by grabbing my arm and pulling. Then I was standing beside the car facing him. I looked around. Stared hard into the lighted interior of the car. No Maggie or Laura. We were at the end of a narrow dirt track. There were trees behind me. Ahead, fields rolled away into the distance.
‘Where’s my family?’ I said.
He was still holding the gun and pointing it at me.
‘They’re back at the house,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be seeing them again.’ His voice was pure steel and those words cut into me like a razor blade. I felt my legs go weak and the blood roar in my ears.
‘But you said you were going to let us go.’
‘I know what I said, Cain. But you’re not stupid. You’ve always known that you would have to die. It’s the only way we get to have a life.’
‘Who’s we?’
He held it a beat and said, ‘My daughter. Jennifer Priest.’
I felt my throat constrict. ‘Vince’s girlfriend?’
He said nothing. He didn’t have to.
‘You’re a fucking copper?’ I blurted.
‘I’ve had to protect my daughter, Cain. That’s how this all started. The lottery ticket was just an added incentive.’
If you knew why this was happening you’d understand.
‘Are you saying that Jennifer killed Vince?’
‘He deserved it,’ he said. ‘The bastard was betraying her as well as you. Now turn around and walk into the woods. If you don’t I’ll shoot you right here.’
I took a step back, held up the cuffs in a defensive gesture. ‘I want my wife and daughter. Please let me go back.’
‘It’s too late for that.’
He motioned with his head and I looked back in the direction we’d just come. At first I didn’t see it. But then I noticed an orange glow in the sky above a clump of trees. I frowned, not quite sure what I was seeing.
‘I’m sorry about your daughter,’ he said. ‘But your wife deserves to die for what she did. The bitch is a two-timing slut.’ And then it dawned on me.
‘My God,’ I yelled. ‘You’ve set fire to the house.’
‘And the police will assume that you did it, Cain. And you won’t be able to reveal the truth because you won’t be around.’
I felt a pain of anguish explode inside my chest and spread through my body. Instinctively, I threw myself forward, ignoring the gun, but he stepped to one side and struck me across the shoulder with the butt. I fell to the ground, rolled on my back. He stared down at me.
‘At least let me die with them,’ I begged him. ‘Please.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve already dug a shallow grave for you just over there in the woods. If I left you in the house they’d find out that you weren’t responsible. I know about forensics. The cuff marks, your injuries. The fire might destroy all the evidence, but then again it might not. This way they continue to believe that you killed them.’
I watched him reach inside his jacket and pull out the knife he’d taken from me in the house. Its serrated blade glinted in the light from the car. A gun in one hand and a knife in the other. What the hell was he planning to do? My mind raced, driven fast by terror. And as he took a step towards me I sensed he was going to stab me because he wanted to avoid the sound of a shot being fired. This presented me with an opportunity, albeit a fleeting one. I tensed my muscles as he took another step closer. Then I kicked out at his left shin. Contact was solid. He yelped and lurched off balance. I rolled to the right and swept the same leg out from under him.
He went down with a heavy thud, letting out a loud, shocked groan.
I leapt to my feet and dived forward on to his outstretched arm. With my cuffed hands I managed to wrestle the gun from his grip. Then I rolled away from him, took aim and fired.
Click.
The gun failed to go off. I pressed the trigger again.
Click.
By now Priest was back on his feet.
‘It’s a replica, you fucking idiot,’ he screamed at me. ‘I never planned for a bullet to kill you. Too risky and too noisy. You were going to suffer the same fate that was inflicted on your partner. But now that I have the knife it’ll be even easier.’
I threw the gun at him and rolled across the ground. I managed to haul myself up and stagger away from the car. I was aware of the burning house in the distance; the glow of the flames was clearly visible in the darkening sky. I headed towards it. Priest came after me. I struggled to stay on my feet. Terror ripped through me as I ran. There was no way I could reach my family. I realized that now. But I ploughed on regardless, ignoring the fact that he was closing in.
And then I tripped on a boulder and went crashing to the ground, bits of dirt and grass sticking to my cheek.
It was over for me now. That much was obvious.
I was once again at the mercy of the man who was going to kill me. I no longer had the strength to get to my feet, let alone keep on running.
The earth beneath me was cold and damp. I was trapped and disoriented. My lungs were on fire and my breath was coming in great heaving gasps.
The cuffs on my
wrists were cutting into the flesh, dripping blood on to the soft dirt and the dead, soggy leaves.
I wanted to plead with him to let my wife and daughter live, but I couldn’t form the words. Instead, I could only lie where I had fallen and look up as he approached me. He was still wearing the black ski mask and he was still carrying the knife in his right hand.
I was going to be murdered by this man who had entered our lives just two days ago and whose face I had never seen.
Two days.
Long enough for the life I had known to be shattered like a light bulb hitting concrete. And I couldn’t help but wonder why it had happened to us.
‘It’s the end of the road, Cain,’ Priest said. ‘No point resisting.’
I was too weak to do anything other than brace myself for what was to come. Pain racked my body from the beating I had taken earlier. Exhaustion numbed my senses and the sheer terror of what was happening had paralyzed my mind.
He reached down. Grabbed my shirt front. Pulled me roughly off the ground.
He started speaking again, his mouth wrestling with the fabric of the mask, but his words were now just a jumble of sounds. I felt myself being pulled away from the present into the comfort of my subconscious.
I saw Maggie and Laura. I was actually back in our home on the day it all started. I felt safe and warm and …
His knee landed on my chest, jolting me back to the present. I glimpsed the knife above me in his raised hand. Instinctively, I grabbed his wrist with both my hands, stopping the downward thrust of the knife. I then used all the strength I could muster to heave his body off me and roll away from him.
Thankfully, he was slow to react. I was on my feet before he was. I kicked out with my right foot. Caught his face full on. There was a crack of bone beneath the ski mask. I followed through with another kick. This one smashed into his chest. He cried out.
He had lost the advantage. He’d also dropped the knife, but I couldn’t see where it was. I kicked him again, in the kidneys. He fell back. Limp. Then I rammed my shoe into the side of his head. It made a sickening thud and sent him sprawling on to his face. I stood for a few seconds, gasping for air. I contemplated searching him for the keys to unlock the cuffs but I knew there was no time. If Maggie and Laura were not dead already then they soon would be.
I had to get back to the house. I looked back along the track to where the car was parked. Would I be able to drive it with my hands in cuffs? I decided I had to try. I’d never get there in time on foot.
52
It was easier than I thought because the car was an automatic. I jumped in behind the wheel. Through the windscreen I saw Priest struggling to his feet. I felt like stamping my foot on the accelerator and running him down.
Instead, I engaged reverse and screeched backwards along the track and eventually came to a country lane. There was a moment when I didn’t know whether to turn left or right. But then I saw the now familiar orange glow in the sky so I went to the right.
The blazing house soon came into view, although I had to turn into another lane to reach it. By the time I screeched to a stop on the driveway it was well on fire and I feared I was too late to save my family. The fire had taken hold downstairs and flames were spitting out of all the windows. One of the upstairs rooms was also engulfed, but there were two that were not. Smoke billowed out of one of them where the glass had shattered.
I seized on this as a glimmer of hope, although I knew that the odds on them being in either of those rooms were slim. The room on the far right had another window at the side of the house, overlooking the flat roof of the garage. I saw that it offered a way in and without hesitation I drove the car at the garage door, ramming into it so hard that the door flew off its hinges and crashed to the back of the garage.
I jumped out of the car, leapt on to the bonnet, and then on to the roof. From there I was able to haul myself up on to the top of the garage. The explosion of heat took me by surprise. I reeled back, rubbed my eyes and covered my mouth with my arm.
I reached the window and smashed it with the cuffs. I pulled myself over the ledge and into the bedroom. I held my breath to keep from inhaling smoke. Through the swirling black clouds I could make out two single beds.
‘Maggie. Laura. Are you here?’
My shouts were no match for the flames that raged through the house. I ventured across the room. The door was open and I stepped out on to the landing. The hot air blasted my lungs and it was like breathing in a furnace. A couple of steps took me to the next room along. Beyond it was the stairwell and the ladder leading into the loft. The whole lot would soon be an inferno. The door next to me was closed. I pushed it open and looked in. A rolled-up sheet had been placed against the bottom of the door to keep out the smoke. This gave me hope.
‘Maggie. Where are you? Talk to me.’
Someone cried out. It was Maggie. I squinted through the billowing smoke. After an agonizing moment I saw them. They were crouched in a corner between the bed and the broken window.
Maggie’s cuffed wrist was attached to the wall mounted radiator. Without hesitating I started pulling and kicking at the radiator. It was old and the fixings were not in good shape. It took about thirty seconds to wrench the radiator an inch or so away from the wall. Then the pipe moved and the fixing snapped off, sending a stream of cold water into the air.
Laura had passed out. She was wrapped in Maggie’s arms. I could see that Maggie was struggling to breathe.
‘There’s a way out,’ I shouted. ‘Can you walk?’
Maggie coughed and nodded at the same time.
‘I’ll take Laura,’ I said. ‘Stay close to me.’
I put my cuffed hands over my daughter’s head and gave her a fireman’s lift. Maggie grabbed hold of my belt and we moved into the hall. The stairwell was now engulfed in flames and they were moving quickly towards us. We could barely see. The smoke, black and dense, swirled around us, willing us to submit to it. Acrid cinders caught in our throats, making us retch. A step at a time. Feeling my way. Choking on the smoke. But we managed at last to get to the side window, which was sucking smoke out into the open air.
I climbed out with Laura. She was still unconscious. I put her down gently on the garage roof. Then I helped Maggie out. Together we managed to get Laura down on to the driveway. Maggie was coughing and retching, but Laura was pale and limp. I laid her out on the stones and as I did so I realized that she wasn’t breathing.
Panic swelled inside me. Her chest was still and spittle foamed at the corners of her mouth. I leaned over, grabbed her shoulders, shouted her name. But she didn’t respond.
As Maggie started to scream I covered Laura’s mouth with my own. I forced my breath into her, prayed that it would ignite the spark of life.
‘Oh my God, she’s dead,’ Maggie yelled. ‘She’s dead.’
And I knew that she was right. There was nothing there. No life. No breath. No pulse. I reared up then and threw back my head. A grief-stricken howl tore its way to the surface from the very depths of my being. So intense was the moment that I didn’t see Priest bearing down on me until he was so close that I could hear his shoes crunching on the gravel.
My body went into lockdown. The scream died in my throat and every muscle inside me turned to stone.
Priest was maybe twenty feet away. He was no longer wearing the ski mask but he was still carrying the knife. His face was streaked with blood and his features were contorted into an ugly grimace. As I watched him close in I knew I was going to die. I knew also that it was what I wanted. There was no longer any reason to live.
He got to within about ten feet of us when the shot rang out. I saw his torso convulse and his chest open up. He stopped dead, as though hovering on the edge of a cliff. The knife fell from his hand on to the ground and he dropped to his knees.
Smoke curled out of the hole in his chest and he let out a primal scream before toppling forward on to his face. His body went in to a violent spasm, then he lay still.
My muscles unfroze. I twisted my neck and saw a man with a rifle. A police officer. Kevlar vest. Dark goggles. Dark helmet. He was standing next to a white patrol car. Its blue light was flashing and all its doors were open. There were two other uniformed officers next to the car and there was also a heavyset man in a dark suit.
DCI Jeff Temple.
A fierce rage flared inside me and I cursed out loud. My anger was directed at Temple as well as the officer who had fired the rifle. I wanted to kill them both because I knew that I’d never forgive them for what they’d done. They should have let Priest get to me. They should have let me die alongside my beloved daughter.
53
The funeral took place at the crematorium in Southampton. It was a cold day and the sky was a moody gunmetal. The chapel was full and outside in the street the media gathered. Reporters, photographers, camera operators. There were even a couple of satellite trucks for relaying live pictures back to the television news studios.
Maggie and I sat together in the front row. We held hands and bowed our heads and the emotions that swirled within us were mixed. A minister with a bald head read the eulogy, which was short and somewhat impersonal. He’d asked me if I wanted to do it but I declined. It was all too raw, I said.
The coffin entered the furnace to an organ rendition of Morning has Broken.
It was what Vince had wanted, along with a request that his ashes be scattered across an open moor close to his cottage in the New Forest.
Epilogue
In the weeks that followed Vince’s funeral I struggled to come to terms with what had happened. I soon realized that I probably never would. DCI Temple talked to me at length. At the first informal interview he surprised me with an apology.