Being a Saturday, the canal basin swarmed with tourists, daytrippers queueing for narrow boat excursions along the waterway and shoppers seeking refuge in the restaurants and coffee houses overlooking the picturesque quayside.
But Anna and Jamie passed along it and through a bustling Brindley Place without incident, Jamie lagging his customary five feet behind his sister. The library was a quiet haven amid the frenetic activity. Archive copies of Autism Review, Anna was told, were not in great demand and would be stored on microfiche up on the fourth floor. After a brief demonstration from one of the librarians, she stationed herself at one of several machines, leaving Jamie to meander around the aisles. Wary of him straying too far, Anna looked up to check on him constantly but for once he seemed to be staying out of trouble, content to study and recite the catalogue numbers on the book spines; enough to keep him occupied for days. Two other people were using the machines, and several students browsed the shelves.
A monthly publication, Anna noted that an issue of Autism Review had been issued three weeks before her parents’ deaths in January 1985. Anna scanned each of its pages in the tiny print of the microfiche, eventually finding what she wanted towards the end of the letters page, from Malcolm Barham, Harborne, Birmingham. It read:
Dear Editor,
I am the father of a fourteen-year-old boy with autism, and am currently looking into possible causes of his condition. I would like to hear from the parents of autistic children born between 1957 and 1973, particularly where forms of medication were prescribed during pregnancy.
Yours faithfully,
Malcolm E Barham.
It was so true to her father’s style, concise and formal, that she could actually hear him reading it. She rubbed at her eyes, cross with herself for being so weepy lately.
Setting up the machine to print off the article for her, she went to find Jamie to warn him that they would be going soon and so hopefully avoid a major incident. He’d been great, she’d hardly known he was there. She’d reward him with lunch at McDonald’s, even though twice in one week was rather too much of a good thing for her. She walked over to where she had last sighted his black jacket through the gap in the shelves, but he’d moved on. Gradually Anna worked her away around the rows, scanning each one, ‘Jamie? Jamie, where are you?’ but Jamie was nowhere to be seen.
Her initial calm began to accelerate into concern and then towards mild panic. Jamie wasn’t here. Anna had never considered the possibility that he would ever really wander off without her, but now he’d done it. Why the hell hadn’t she insisted on him wearing the tracking device? The transmitter button was burning a hole in her pocket. In case he was simply keeping one step ahead of her, Anna moved more quickly, her eyes sweeping up and down the aisles, desperately seeking out the familiar black coat and cargo pants. At one point she thought she saw his flapping hands, but it was only a middle-aged man scratching his head in concentration.
She’d covered the whole of the fourth floor now, but Jamie wasn’t in evidence. The escalators were tucked away in the corner and Anna had felt sure he wouldn’t have ventured on to them alone, but now she had to consider the possibility that he must have. The problem was, had he gone up or down? It would be impossible to search the whole six-floor library herself. She approached the librarian on the desk, trying to keep the tremor from her voice, ‘Excuse me, I need some help. I’ve lost my brother.’
‘Yes, of course.’ With a minimal hand signal, the woman summoned a uniformed security guard. ‘This lady has lost a little boy, can we do a search?’
‘No,’ Anna interrupted. ‘He’s not a child, he’s a man, an adult, but he’s autistic. He can’t communicate and he has no sense of danger. I have to find him.’
The guard was reassuring. ‘Don’t worry, madam, this kind of thing happens all the time. We’ll soon find him.’
Taking out a walkie-talkie, he activated a button. ‘Put out a call on a missing person, John,’ he said and relayed the description Anna provided. Meanwhile, Anna went shakily down to the main library reception area where, she was told, the search would be coordinated and Jamie would be brought when he was found.
She waited for an agonising fifteen minutes, at the end of which the original guard came back to her shaking his head.
‘I’m sorry, love, we’ve looked everywhere. He’s not in the library. Would you like us to call the police?’
Anna didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t understand how Jamie could have managed to find his way out of the building on his own. Then, suddenly, by the main doors to the library, she caught sight of something red and shining lying on the ground. It was an empty Hula Hoop pack. She shivered as someone walked over her grave. ‘No,’ she said.
‘No thank you. I’ll do that.’ Outside the library she took out her mobile phone. ‘I need to speak to DI Mariner. It’s urgent…’
‘I’m sorry, madam, Inspector Mariner isn’t in the station today.’ Of course, he wasn’t. In her distress she had completely forgotten. He’d taken the weekend off and was not expected back until Monday. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ the officer asked.
‘I don’t know. It’s my brother.’
‘And what’s his…’ There was a deafening hiss, and the sergeant’s voice was drowned out by a wave of interference.
Anna waited for the static to clear. It didn’t, there was no other option but to terminate the call. She would have to move to somewhere else and try again. But before she could, her phone rang again.
‘Thank you for calling back, Sergeant,’ she began.
‘There was some interference…’
‘Miss Barham?’ An unfamiliar male voice cut her off.
‘Yes?’
‘Let me reassure you. Your brother is safe and well.’
‘What? Who is this?’ Anna grappled for understanding.
What was going on?
‘Don’t worry,’ the man reassured her. ‘As I said, your brother is perfectly safe, but he’s going to stay with us for now, because you have something that we want.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why don’t you just listen for a moment, and I’ll tell you how you can ensure your brother’s safe return.’ He had an accent. Northern, or was it Welsh? ‘It’s very simple,’ he went on. ‘But as soon as we have finished this conversation, I want you to take your phone and drop it into the black rubbish bin, five yards to your right. Just so that you won’t be tempted to use it again to dial 999.’
Anna looked across to her right. About five yards away was an ornate, cast-iron bin. Who ever she was speaking to, had her in his sights. He was right here in the street with her. She scanned the crowd of people around her in Victoria Square. Everyone seemed to be hurrying purposefully, to the shops, back to the office, in and out of the nearby museum. She could see no-one talking into a mobile phone. ‘All right,’ she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Go to your safety-deposit box now and get all the 272
documentation relating to your father’s research project.
You’ll have to hurry up, before the bank closes. Take out everything. The disk, the database and the printouts. Don’t be tempted to leave anything behind, or to try to make copies of anything. In any case, you won’t have time for that.’ How did he know about the safety-deposit box? How did he know what was in it?
‘When you’ve got it, go straight to the International Conference Centre. You’ll see there’s to be a presentation at two o’clock called “Being an Effective Communicator”, which you’re to attend. On your way in, pick up a delegate’s pack and drop all the information into it. Ten minutes into the presentation, you’ll get up and go, leaving the delegate’s pack on your seat. Return immediately to your flat and wait for a call. When we’re satisfied that we’ve got everything we need, I’ll call to let you know where you can find your brother. Don’t make any attempt to contact or involve the police, even DI Mariner. If you do that,
I’ll no longer be able to guarantee your brother’s safety. The same will be true if you try to evade us, communicate anything to anyone or otherwise draw attention to yourself. You are being watched. Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’ Anna’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘I’m sure you appreciate how serious I am.’
‘How do I know that you’ll do what you say?’
‘I don’t think you have a choice, do you?’ His conviction was chilling. ‘As I said, the conference presentation begins at two.’
From where she stood, Anna could see the council house clock. It said one fifteen. The bank would close at one thirty. ‘But that’s no time…’
‘It’s all the time you have.’ And the line went dead.
Anna had never before felt so alone. Jamie hadn’t wandered off at all, he’d been lured away into a trap. She may never see him again. Except that she must. She just had to do what she was told. Sick with fear, she hurried back towards the bank, dodging other pedestrians and forging a way through. On this unseasonably sunny February afternoon there were plenty of people about, men and women in business suits, tourists photographing each other in front of the featureless Iron Man. Someone was observing her, following her, but she dared not look back. Anna had to resist an urge to grab someone, another woman perhaps and say ‘call the police, I’m in trouble’. Instead she kept an unnatural distance from everyone she encountered.
The bank thronged with people carrying out final transactions before the weekend, and Anna had to wait in a queue that moved agonisingly slowly.
‘Hurry up!’ she wanted to scream.
Chapter Twenty-three
Mariner shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Traffic on the southbound M6 had been going at an uneven, caterpillar crawl since Wolverhampton, he was beginning to get cramp in his right leg and his bladder was uncomfortably full. He’d been considering whether to phone Anna, just to check that everything was all right, tell her what he’d learned from Todd, but was delaying it while he mentally debated whether the interest was more professional or personal. In the end he just thought ‘bugger it’ and called anyway.
When there was no answer from her flat, he phoned the station and spoke to the duty officer. ‘It’s Tom Mariner.
Can you tell me who’s doing the surveillance on Anna Barham?’
There was a pause while Sergeant Reilly checked the log.
‘Tony Knox is on it now, sir. He took over about an hour ago.’
So he’d reappeared. ‘Good,’ said Mariner. ‘And he hasn’t reported anything?’
‘He last called in at eleven thirty and it was all quiet.
They haven’t been out all day.’
‘So why isn’t she answering the phone? I’ve been ringing for the last ten minutes.’
Another interlude while Sergeant Reilly’s mind ticked over, ‘Oh bugger,’ he said suddenly, guilt oozing down the phone. ‘An Anna Barham called here, about half an hour ago, to speak to you, sir. I didn’t make the…’
‘What did she want?’
‘She said it was her brother.’
‘Her brother?’ What had Jamie been up to now? ‘What about him?’
‘I don’t know sir, we didn’t get any further because she was calling on a mobile. She got wiped out by interference on the line.’
‘And she didn’t call back?’
‘No sir.’
‘What exactly did she say?’
Reilly consulted his notes. ‘She asked to speak to you. I told her you weren’t here, but asked if there was anything I could help with. She said, “I don’t know. It’s my brother”, then we got cut off.’
‘Shit! And she was definitely on a mobile?’
‘Sounded like it, sir.’ Reilly was with him now. ‘Shall I get Knox to go up and check the flat?’
‘Yes.’ Mariner tapped in Anna’s mobile number. It was switched off. His own phone rang. He almost dropped it and, momentarily distracted, veered out into the adjacent lane of traffic, causing the car coming up alongside to slam on his brakes. The driver hooted.
If only you knew, thought Mariner. ‘Yes?’ he barked into the phone.
‘It’s Knox. I’m in Anna Barham’s flat. There’s no one here.’
‘I thought they hadn’t gone out.’
‘How the hell was I meant to know there’s a back entrance?’ demanded Knox, defensively.
‘Bloody brilliant,’ said Mariner. ‘Wait for me there.’ But it was a further twenty minutes before he drew up outside the building where Knox was waiting for him at ground level. He was wearing civvies, but Mariner didn’t ask why.
Instead he asked Knox the same question he’d been asking himself. ‘Why would she ask to speak to me urgently, and then switch off her phone?’
‘Perhaps whatever it was resolved itself and she didn’t want you to waste a call,’ Knox suggested.
‘It was something to do with Jamie.’
‘Maybe he ran off again.’
‘So why hasn’t she phoned us back? And why didn’t she alert you? For Christ’s sake, she knew you were here.’
‘She found him?’ Knox was humouring him.
‘So where are they now?’
‘Having their dinner at McDonald’s.’
What Knox was saying wasn’t unreasonable, so why didn’t Mariner buy it? Because he’d talked to Andrew Todd, and because now he understood what Malcolm, Eddie and now Anna Barham were up against. ‘Let’s take a look upstairs.’
‘I’ve already done that, sir. There’s nothing…’
‘So we’ll look again. Anyway, I need a pee.’
The disgruntled building supervisor let them into Anna’s flat for a second time, but once inside, Mariner was struck by how normal it all looked. In the kitchen, Eddie’s folder lay on the table where he’d seen it yesterday, now conspicuously empty. Why hadn’t he thought to make copies of that disk or at least print off a hard copy of the database?
Stupid! There was no clue whatever about where Anna and Jamie might have gone, but Mariner was convinced that it was an ominous sign.
Then, on his way out of the bathroom, Mariner caught sight of the red light of the Kestrel receiver winking at him, from where it lay discarded on the floor. It was still switched on, but the transmitter was nowhere to be seen.
‘That looks like one of ours. How did—?’ Knox began.
‘Not now, Knox,’ Mariner silenced him. He was studying the LCD display and trying to determine what had happened. ‘If Jamie’s wearing this then he’s not far away.’ Crossing to the window, he looked out. ‘Somewhere near the Conference Centre. She must have gone after him.’
‘So why didn’t she take the tracker?’
‘God knows. I’m not even sure that she understood how to use it. But it’s all we’ve got. At least if we can locate the transmitter we should get Jamie.’ But something was telling him that there was more to it. They kept moving, but as they walked Mariner had Knox call through on his mobile to Anna Barham’s bank. It was no longer open for business, but the manager was still on site and able to confirm that Anna had accessed her safety-deposit box shortly before closing time. Homing in on the signal, as a precaution, Mariner called for back-up, and by the time he and Knox reached the entrance to the International Conference Centre, there were three more officers waiting for them. Crammed into the squad car, Mariner could only brief them with guesswork.
‘Anna Barham called in at ten forty-nine this morning to speak to me urgently, possibly because Jamie had run off.
Since then she has disappeared, though we’re getting a signal from the tracking device she had for Jamie.’ Mariner said. ‘We just need to bear in mind that all may not be as it seems. I have reason to believe that Anna Barham is in some danger, because she holds some information that would be highly damaging to a major drugs company. I’m certain that they’ve killed for it before. I think it’s possible that she’s been asked to meet someone to hand over that information. She may well have been warned
against contacting us, which is why she evaded PC Knox and has switched off her phone. Someone will need to go inside, locate the transmitter and try to establish what’s going on.
It can’t be me, because her observer’s likely to know me too.’ Scanning the group, his eyes came to rest on Knox, the only other officer not in uniform.
‘Looks like I’m the lucky volunteer.’ Knox flashed a humourless smile.
‘Get in there and see if you can see what’s happening,’ Mariner told him. ‘Let me know as soon as you do. The rest of us will take up positions around the building and maintain radio contact at all times.’ They watched Knox disappear into the centre, before following him part of the way. Five slow minutes passed before Mariner’s phone rang.
‘I’ve found Anna Barham, sir. She seems to be waiting to go into a presentation. She’s carrying a delegate’s bag and a small handbag, nothing else.’
‘What about Jamie?’
‘No sign of him. The transmitter must be on her. She looks petrified.’
It was Saturday. Jamie wouldn’t be at his day-care centre, so where the hell was he? ‘How big is the bag?’
Mariner asked.
‘It’s just a plastic carrier. It looks bulky though. There’s more in it than I’ve got in mine.’
‘She must be making a drop.’
‘Do you want me to show myself?’ Knox was asking.
‘Make eye contact, try to let her know you’re there, but don’t approach her directly. Stick to her like glue, but leave it to her to make the first move. And Knox?’
‘Yes sir?’
‘Try to be subtle for Christ’s sake.’
Anna stood outside the conference hall of the ICC, sipping coffee from a polystyrene cup and trying to control the tremor in her hands. Surreptitiously she glanced around, wondering who was the one watching and waiting.
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