by Jack Fiske
Edging back into the trees, Jim slipped the rucksack from his shoulder and took out the binoculars that he’d used so often, in similar surroundings, to watch a woodpecker or a lone deer in the woods beyond their garden.
The binoculars weren’t powerful, but the distance to the farm wasn’t great, so Jim made himself comfortable and settled down to watch and to wait.
SIXTEEN
From his position in the trees, Jim had a good view of the farmhouse and of the yard behind it. The farmyard was open to this side, with buildings surrounding it on the other three, which meant he was ideally placed to see what was going on.
Two vehicles were parked by the house – a fairly new silver BMW and a dirty white van, which had seen better days. There was also a garage and all of the outbuildings, so it was possible there were other cars under cover. The number of vehicles didn’t necessarily tally with the number of people he reminded himself, but it was always a good indication.
Whilst the farmhouse had looked impressive from a distance, closer inspection through the binoculars showed it to be in poor repair. Almost every piece of woodwork needed painting or replacing, vegetation was growing from the gutters and the roof must surely leak, judging by the number of tiles that were missing. The white van was spattered with concrete and looked as if it might belong to a building firm, although there was no company name on the side. That could quite easily tie in with Stephen’s information. One of the numbers on his telephone list was a building firm in Camden.
Jim took his time scanning the buildings and the yard, making a note of any small detail that might be important. If he was to go in for a closer look, he wanted to know where the cover was, where he might be spotted and the best route in. He also needed to know which parts of the building were occupied and which weren’t.
He was just about to move and check the back of the outbuildings, when the door to the farmhouse opened and two men stepped out. One was in his twenties, tall and muscular. Not particularly heavy, but with the look of someone who was in good shape and could look after himself. The other, by contrast, was overweight, with a beer belly bulging over his trousers and a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Jim knew which he would prefer if it came to a fight.
The two figures crossed the yard deep in conversation and entered the single storey annexe immediately opposite. Moments later a third man, possibly mid-twenties, dressed in heavy jeans and work boots came out and crossed back to the house. Jim trained the binoculars on him as he passed. It looked as if he had been in a fight, his face was swollen and there was a large strip of tape across the bridge of his nose. As if on cue, the man raised his hand and rubbed at it as if it were bothering him.
At least three people then. Probably more. Maybe the fat man was in charge and the other two were the muscle. Jim edged backwards into the wood until he was well out of sight, turned ninety degrees to his left and counted off fifty paces in the direction of the main road before making his way back to the edge of the trees once more.
From this new angle, Jim had the farmyard to his right and he could see the back of the outbuildings that the two men had just entered. At the far end of the row, the wall of a large barn rose above the rest of the buildings, whilst at the near end there was a two storey cattle shed with a series of small barred windows to the back. Sandwiched in the middle was a single storey annexe, which looked like further living accommodation. It had two windows at the back, one giving a view of the fields behind and a smaller one, with frosted glass, which appeared to be a bathroom.
If he was to get closer, this would be the best approach. There were two trees at the corner of the building, a low hawthorn hedge running alongside the track, which would give him some cover and only one window from which he might be seen. The barn at the far end was half derelict, with sheets of corrugated iron nailed to the walls and several missing boards, which ought to give him easy access.
Jim took a minute to examine the buildings again and then made his decision. There was nothing to be gained by hanging around. He needed to go in for a closer look.
Leaving the rucksack behind in the trees, he crept forward to the barbed wire. There was no sign of anyone in either direction, so he quickly climbed the fence, crossed the track and ducked down at the corner of the building beneath the two trees.
Although there was cover at the corner, the rest of the route to the barn was totally exposed. Bending double, Jim ran to the single storey annexe and paused by the first window. The small hopper at the top was propped open to let in some air and Jim could hear the sound of a radio playing inside. He ducked under the sill so that he didn’t cast a shadow on the frosted glass and moved on to the second window. The second was firmly shut and he could see the edge of a kitchen unit on the wall inside. Resisting the urge to take a better look, he ducked under it and ran for the barn at the far end.
The barn was literally falling apart. A number of planks were missing and those that weren’t were half rotten. Jim peered carefully around the corner of the building to see what lay beyond. The barn ran the full length of the farm yard, presumably joining up with the farmhouse on the opposite side, although he couldn’t see the house from here.
Behind the barn were just open fields. Half a dozen cattle grazed in the nearest, whilst beyond them the fields were planted with a cereal crop.
If anything, the barn was in a worse state at the back, where it was exposed to the weather. Jim stepped around the corner, relieved to be out of sight of the track and looked for a way in. There were plenty of options. A few feet from the corner, two boards were broken and there was an eight inch gap. Jim bent down and peered through into the building beyond.
The barn looked almost empty. There were bales of hay stacked at one end, a few pieces of farm machinery and something larger near the front, which had been covered with a grey tarpaulin. The general gloom inside was pierced by a dozen or more shafts of light where the sun shone in through the broken boards and there was a small pool of sunlight at one end, where a section of roof was missing.
Jim pulled at one of the timbers and nearly fell over backwards when it came away in his hand, leaving a gap big enough for him to squeeze through. Once inside, it was clear that the barn wasn’t in regular use. The bales of hay that were stacked at one end were grey with age and looked as if they were only fit for the compost heap. The farm machinery was covered with a thick layer of dust and only the large oblong shape by the door looked as if it had been a recent addition. Jim walked over to it and lifted one corner of the tarpaulin. There was a car underneath: a black Volvo. His stomach turned over and he stepped round to the back to check its number plate. It was the same one that had followed him on Sunday morning. His hand shook as he pulled the tarpaulin further back, being careful not to make any noise. In the dim light, he could just make out the shape of a mountain bike in the back, one wheel missing – which he saw was propped behind it against the back seat.
Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep calm as he felt inside his jacket pocket for the GPS tube. Should he switch it on and summon help? It looked like Stephen’s information was correct. His thumb rested on the switch for a moment and then he withdrew his hand, leaving it where it was. What if Susan and Millie weren’t here? He needed to know before he took the next step.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a car outside. He pulled the tarpaulin back into place and stepped forward to the large double doors, pressing one eye to the narrow gap in between. Although the field of view was small, he could see most of the farmyard and part of the farmhouse itself. A car had drawn up just beyond the silver BMW and the driver, a man in his early forties dressed in a jacket and tie, stepped out. The odds were getting worse.
The newcomer dropped a cigarette butt on the ground, stepped on it and hurried into the house. Jim waited for a few moments and then, when there was no sign of further activity, he put a hand between the barn’s sliding doors and opened them a fracti
on to get a better view.
Archie pulled off the dual carriageway into a lay-by and reached for his phone. He’d tried Jim twice already and left a message each time, but he still hadn’t managed to speak to him.
He dialled Jim’s number again, waited while it rang at the other end and then disconnected the call when it transferred to voicemail. He reached over the back seat, pulled his briefcase over to the front and dug out his diary. He remembered writing down the number for Jim’s parents-in-law. He’d try that.
This time the phone was answered at the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello is that Stephen Reid?”
“Yes. Who’s that?” Stephen said uncertainly.
“Mr Reid, it’s Archie Long. I’m a friend of Jim’s. I’m the one who sent the package to your house the other day. I need to get hold of Jim and I’m getting no answer at all on his mobile.”
“Oh,” Stephen said. There was a long pause before he continued. “I’m not sure I know where he is.”
“You’re not sure or you don’t know?” Archie asked, sensing that Stephen knew more than he wanted to tell.”
“No, I don’t know,” Stephen said, with more self-assurance. “I left him at our office in Ringwood a few hours ago, but if he’s not there, I couldn’t tell you where he is.”
“Thank you anyway,” Archie said. “I’m on my way to the office just now. If he’s not there I’ll see if they know where I can reach him. Is there someone in authority there who I can speak to?”
Stephen paused again before he answered.
“Yes. Have a word with Mark Brennan. Jim was with him when I left.”
Archie thanked him and put the phone down.
In Ringwood, Stephen also put the phone down, but he immediately picked it up again. He needed to warn Mark that Archie was on his way.
Half an hour later, Archie pulled into the car park at Reid & Sutton and found an empty space at the far end. As he walked towards the entrance, he passed Jim’s Land Rover where Wolf barked at him twice from the back seat, warning him not to come any closer.
Once inside, Archie was asked to take a seat by the receptionist, a pleasant woman in her mid thirties, while she tried to call Jim. As he took a seat she put the phone down and asked if he would like a coffee, but he politely refused.
Ten minutes later he was still there. There was no sign of anyone coming to meet him, so he walked over to the desk to ask what was happening. The receptionist looked a little flustered, but asked him to have a seat again and she would phone once more.
“If Jim Turner isn’t in, I’d like to speak to Mark Brennan,” Archie said, as he returned to his seat.
Another few minutes ticked by and Archie strode back to the desk in annoyance.
“Look!” he said, slapping his i.d. card down in front of the woman. “This is urgent. I want to speak to someone in authority and I want to speak to them now!”
The poor woman picked up the phone again as Archie stood over her and after a moment she smiled politely and said, “Mr Brennan will be down straight away.”
Straight away turned out to be another five minutes and Archie was just about to threaten the receptionist with a charge of obstructing the authorities, when a tall, slightly unkempt man with large round glasses strode into reception and held out his hand.
“Mr Long. I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I’ve kept you waiting. Please forgive me.”
Archie was prepared to vent his frustration at sitting around for so long, but held his tongue until he heard what Brennan had to say.
“Come through. Come through,” Mark said, ushering Archie into the main building. “We’ll go up to my office; it’s just up the stairs.”
“Is Jim here?” Archie asked, as they walked down the corridor.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid he’s not.”
“His Land Rover’s outside.”
“Oh, is it?” Mark said uncertainly, taken by surprise.
“His dog is still in there. Wolf isn’t it? Jim can’t be far. When are you expecting him back?”
They arrived at Mark’s office and Mark ushered Archie in, closing the door behind them.
“Actually Mr Long, I’m not sure where he is. I understand he’s got some sort of family crisis.”
“What sort of crisis?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t tell me, or don’t want to tell me?” Archie asked, putting his MI5 credentials down on the desk for inspection.
“Well, it’s a little awkward.”
Archie had taken his phone out at the same time as the i.d.
“Let me try him again. If I can’t get hold of him, I’m afraid I really will need to insist on your co-operation.”
There was a sudden look of panic on Mark’s face and Archie realised why when, a moment later, they heard the muffled sound of a phone ringing from within Mark’s desk. Archie disconnected the call and pressed the redial button. The ringing stopped for a moment and then started again. Archie got to his feet and strode round the desk. Mark didn’t put up any protest as he opened the drawer to find Jim’s mobile phone lying there on top of a pile of paperwork. The display was lit up with a telltale message – ‘Archie Long’ and he reached into the drawer to pick it up.
“I don’t think you’ve been entirely truthful with me Mr Brennan. Have you?”
After the awkward introduction, Archie found that he liked Mark Brennan. He couldn’t really blame him for concealing what was happening, especially when Jim had asked him to do so. When it became clear that it was Archie who had supplied the GPS units and the information on O’Hara in the first place, Mark became more co-operative. Ten minutes later they were on first name terms and both had accepted that they should be working together.
“So how long has he been there?” Archie asked, as the two stood in front of the computer screen in Stephen’s office.
“About twenty minutes. He phoned me when he got there and he said he’ll phone again as soon as he’s checked the place out. Do you think I should ring him?”
Archie looked at his watch. “No, don’t do that. Jim knows what he’s doing. We’ll wait if he said that he’d call.”
The two sat down to wait and Archie wondered how long it would be before he got a call from control asking him for an update.
Forty-five minutes later, Archie was still sitting calmly by the P.C. but Mark was clearly worried.
“Surely we should have heard from him by now?” he said. “It’s been over an hour.”
“Possibly,” Archie agreed. He looked down at the piece of paper on which he’d jotted Jim’s movements over the course of the last forty minutes. The tracker unit was accurate to within a few metres and they’d been able to follow Jim as he moved around, obviously checking the place out. Having said that, he should have reported back by now, even if it was only to confirm that he was o.k.
Would Jim have remembered to switch his phone to silent? Yes, don’t be stupid, Archie told himself. Jim wouldn’t forget something that basic. Would a phone call put him at risk? Unlikely.
“O.k. Give him a ring,” Archie said.
Mark handed the phone over. “Here, I’d prefer it if you did.”
With a bigger gap between the barn doors, Jim could see the length of the farmyard and the buildings on both sides. The first thing that struck him was the window at the front of the annexe. The angle from his position in the woods hadn’t given him a good view as the building was set back from the cattle shed and the storeroom on its right. From here, he could see that the window next to the entrance had been painted over in white paint.
Jim pulled back from the opening and glanced at the car, his heart beating a little faster. This had to be the place. Why would anyone paint over a window, except to prevent someone from seeing out or from being seen?
As he stepped forward to take another look, Mark’s phone vibrated in his pocket, rattling against the wood of the barn door and making him jump back in alarm.
He took out the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hi Mark.”
“Actually it’s Archie,” a familiar voice replied.
“Archie. How on earth?”
“Never mind,” Archie replied. “I’ll explain later. I’m at your office with Mark. We’ve been watching you on the computer. What’s happening?”
Jim kept his voice low as he replied, explaining what he’d found at the farm. What a relief it was to hear Archie’s voice at the other end. He could almost see an end to all of this. Archie could alert MI5 or get the police and they’d have the place cordoned off in no time.”
“Are you sure Susan and Millie are there?” Archie asked.
“Pretty sure. It looks as if they’re being held in an outbuilding opposite the farmhouse. There’s a window at the back with bars on it but it’s frosted glass. I reckon it’s a bathroom or a toilet. I’m going back for another look.”
“Do you want me to wait before I call it in?”
“No. Do it now. How long do you think before you can get them here?”
Archie thought for a moment before replying. “Well, I can have the local police there in less than half an hour, but to be honest you’d be better waiting for our guys. The locals won’t be armed and it doesn’t sound as if they’re going anywhere. I reckon we could be there in an hour and a half.”
Jim wanted to get it over as soon as possible, but he knew that what Archie said made sense.
“O.k . . . I agree. I’ll sit tight and try to do a headcount before you arrive.”
“How many so far?” Archie asked.
“At least four that I’ve seen. I reckon there could be more in the farmhouse. Say six or seven in total.”