Altered Egos

by Bill Kitson

  Clara and Viv looked at one another. Pearce shrugged.

  ‘Go on then, mastermind,’ Clara encouraged. ‘Give your undeserving acolytes the benefit of your wisdom.’

  Nash grinned. ‘How about Helm Pharm?’

  Clara thought about the chemical company situated on a green field site just out of town. ‘Of course,’ she breathed, ‘it’s obvious really.’

  ‘That’s what they always say after a magician discloses his secrets,’ Nash told her smugly.

  ‘That still doesn’t explain why the military were getting so hot under the collar about our inquiries,’ Pearce pointed out.

  ‘It does if North was working on something secret. Which, come to think of it, is the only reason the military would become involved. Helm Pharm is just the sort of establishment they’d choose. A small, discreet company, tucked away in the countryside. Out of sight, out of mind. Absolutely perfect as a cover.’

  ‘But a cover for what?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, Clara. And I’m not sure I want to know, unless it’s relevant to our investigation. But if we assume Dr North is working on some secret project, there must be grounds for concern that what’s happened to his wife and son might be a way of getting at him. If he’s still alive, that is. For all we know, he might have died in the fire.’

  ‘You’re not convinced about that, are you?’

  ‘I might have been, but for the attempt to block our inquiry. Why would that officer be so concerned about what we might discover about a dead man? But if North is still alive, all the more reason to want to protect him. Let’s assume that North wasn’t the man in the fire. We now have two problems, apart from the question of who killed Adam North, Lara North and the unknown victim.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Problem one, where is Dr Richard North? Problem two, where is Jessica North?’

  ‘Just when I thought everything was becoming easy.’

  Nash grinned at Clara’s sarcasm. ‘Resolve those problems and it might well do.’

  With a good idea of how to contact Dr North, Nash phoned Helm Pharm, the pharmaceuticals company that had opened six years previously. He identified himself to the receptionist, stressing his rank. ‘I’d like to speak to Dr North, please. Dr Richard North.’

  The reply was instantaneous. Too quick? Nash wondered.

  ‘I’m sorry, we have no one here of that name.’

  ‘I see; in that case would you please put me through to your director or personnel officer.’

  ‘I’m afraid neither our director or personnel officer is available.’

  ‘Either of their assistants then.’

  ‘There is no one available to talk to you.’

  ‘Can you tell me when someone will be available?’

  ‘No, I can’t.’ Nash blinked at the curtness of the reply.

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  ‘My instructions are that no one will be free to speak to you or anyone else from outside the company for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Very well,’ Nash’s tone was gentle. ‘Can I have your name please?’

  The dialling tone told Nash the receptionist had put the phone down on him.

  Nash met with a similar lack of cooperation when he tried the Leeds firm of solicitors handling North’s affairs. The stonewalling tactics were beginning to annoy him. He thought for a while, before picking up the phone again and explained what had happened to Ruth Edwards, seeking her approval for his next course of action. As soon as she’d sanctioned it, Nash called Mironova and Pearce into his office. ‘Go find Jack Binns,’ he instructed Pearce. ‘Tell him I want him to round up whatever uniforms will be available’ – he glanced at the clock – ‘in an hour’s time.’ He then explained what he intended to do.

  Clara looked at him dubiously. ‘Mike, have I ever told you that you’re a devious bastard?’

  Nash grinned. ‘I believe it may have cropped up in conversation once or twice.’

  Pearce pulled in opposite the entrance to the company premises. Clara parked behind. The three detectives got out of the cars and surveyed the site. The two buildings were set well back from the road; the perimeter of the property was protected by a ten foot high wire fence, topped with evilly efficient looking razor wire.

  The sturdy looking steel double gates directly in front of the watchers had a gatehouse to one side. From his viewpoint, Nash could see two uniformed security guards inside. The business part of the property comprised two brick buildings. Nash guessed the larger, two storey building, would be the laboratory, the smaller an office block. Under the eaves of both, surveillance cameras were mounted on the facia boards. As they watched, the detectives saw the cameras swivel slowly, scanning the terrain. ‘There’s something almost sinister about them,’ Clara observed.

  Nash nodded. ‘They obviously feel they’ve something inside that’s worth protecting, but as to what it is, and who they’re protecting it from is another question altogether.’

  ‘The fact that military intelligence has become involved in trying to block our investigation might give some clue,’ Clara suggested.

  ‘True, although it could equally be industrial espionage they’re concerned about.’ As Nash was speaking, a white Transit minibus pulled in behind their car. ‘Here we go.’ Nash signalled to the others to follow him.

  One of the guards stepped out of the gatehouse as they approached. ‘What do you want?’ he demanded.

  Nash turned to Mironova. ‘That’s what I like, good old fashioned courtesy.’

  The guard was either immune to sarcasm or failed to recognize it. He stared at the police officers with thinly disguised hostility.

  ‘I’d like to speak to Dr North please, Dr Richard North.’ Nash’s tone was polite.

  ‘Nobody here of that name.’ The guard’s reply was as quick and as curt as the receptionist’s had been.

  Nash took out his warrant card and held it up in front of the man’s eyes. ‘I’ll ask you again. May I speak to Dr North?’

  ‘And I told you, there’s nobody here of that name.’

  ‘Very well, in that case I’d like to speak to the director.’

  ‘You may want to, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to.’

  ‘Couldn’t you at least ask?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t. Clear off.’

  Nash sighed. ‘That is very disappointing.’ He nodded to Binns, who’d joined them. ‘OK, sergeant.’

  Binns pulled a pair of handcuffs from his uniform pocket and began to administer the caution. As he reached the phrase, ‘Anything you say’, he snapped one cuff over the guard’s wrist. At the same time, one of the uniformed constables, who Nash knew to be a rugby player, took hold of the guard’s other hand and pulled it behind his back.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing? You can’t arrest me. I’m only doing my job. What’s the charge?’

  ‘Obstruction.’ Nash watched as they started to lead the man towards the Transit.

  The gatehouse door opened and the second guard stepped out. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Your colleague’s been arrested. He’s to be charged with obstruction. Now, do I get to speak to someone in authority, or not?’

  ‘There’s nobody here wants to speak to the police. And you can’t arrest him.’

  Nash smiled sweetly. ‘Yes, I can. Jack,’ he called.

  Binns pulled a second pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Causing Clara to wonder how many sets he carried. As he stepped forward beginning a second recital of the caution, the guard swung his fist and aimed a punch at Binns. The sergeant swayed out of the way and clipped a cuff over the man’s wrist.

  ‘Make this one obstruction, assaulting a police officer and resisting arrest,’ Nash told him.

  He watched as the uniformed men led their prisoner away to join his colleague.

  Clara nudged him. ‘Look there, Mike.’

  Nash followed her pointing finger. Four more security men had emerged from the office block and were walking towards the gates.
‘This should be fun,’ Nash said dryly. ‘You know what you’ve to do, Jack?’

  ‘On my way.’

  Nash waited until the Transit, complete with prisoners, had pulled away. He turned to look at the approaching guards who formed themselves into a line inside the gates. ‘What’s going on here?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Your colleagues have been arrested for obstruction and assault. I’ve asked, quite civilly, to speak to someone in regard to a murder investigation I’m in charge of. Nobody seems to want to talk to me. If you want your men back, I suggest someone starts doing a bit of a rethink.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ the man protested.

  ‘I’m getting a bit tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do,’ Nash said quietly.

  ‘We’ll get our solicitor onto this. They’ll be free within the hour.’

  Nash smiled. ‘Well, good luck to you.’

  He swung round to Pearce. ‘Viv, will you drop me off at home please? Then, you go off too. I don’t want you back at the station tonight. We’re off duty as of now. Clara, you OK?’

  Clara nodded, then watched as Nash and Pearce drove off. She wandered over to her car and drove a discreet distance from the laboratory. She turned the car so it was facing the main gates and parked.

  On the journey back into town, Nash told Pearce what he wanted. ‘Go straight home, or go for a meal, whatever you want, as long as you don’t go near the station. I’m going for something to eat. Later, I’ll take over from Clara. Tomorrow morning, I want you both to go straight out to Gorton. I want you to do another search of Dr North’s house and the grounds. See if there’s anything that got missed in the first place. We were only looking at it as an accidental death then. Now it’s probably murder.’

  ‘You’ll be in the office, will you?’

  ‘No, I’ll be out all morning, things to do. Your search will take at least as long. That means there will be nobody available to order the release of those men until tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps the people in charge of Helm Pharm will have had time to think things over by then.’

  ‘Clara said earlier that you’re a devious bastard,’ Pearce smiled. ‘Now I see what she meant.’

  chapter seven

  It was almost dark when Caroline and Dr North reached the house, a semi-detached in a row of similar properties, but there were no lights showing. ‘That’s strange,’ she said. ‘I’d have thought they’d have switched on by now.’

  Across the road, hidden in a dense shrubbery alongside a path leading to a park, a figure watched with interest as they emerged from the car. The watcher raised a powerful pair of binoculars and studied the new arrivals. He couldn’t see their faces in the half-light.

  North stretched, easing his back after the journey. Although the worst of his injuries had been to the head, the force of the collision had caused severe bruising – stiffness was a natural after-effect. They walked the short distance to the front door where Caroline knocked on the glass panel. The door swung open. ‘Something’s wrong.’ She pushed the door wide.

  They went through the ground floor. There was no sign of life. ‘There were two of our men guarding her. I can’t understand what’s happened. Let’s check upstairs.’ In the largest of the three bedrooms they found the two men. Both were alive, both unconscious. They were bound, hand and foot with duct tape. They checked the other bedrooms. The second double room showed signs of female occupancy. But Jessica was missing. ‘I’ll have to ring our people,’ Caroline told him.

  She looked across the room. Richard North was standing by the dressing table. He was clutching a teddy bear and staring at a photograph. It was a family group, mother, father and two young children. His family in happier days. Now, two of them were dead, a third missing.

  Caroline went downstairs and began phoning. When she returned, North was still staring at the photograph. ‘Security are on their way,’ she told him briskly. ‘Give me a hand to cut the guards free.’

  He gave no indication that he’d heard. ‘Richard,’ she said sharply.

  ‘Sorry,’ he put the photo down and followed her from the room. At the door she saw him turn and look back. As if it was the last time he’d see them.

  Both men were beginning to regain consciousness. When they were fit enough to speak, they told their tale. ‘I heard a knock at the door and went to answer it. I looked out first; thought it was you, Dr Dunning.’

  Caroline blinked in surprise.

  ‘The car was similar to yours,’ the guard explained. ‘When I opened the door there was a man standing there. I remember thinking, I know you, then I felt a pain in my arm and that’s the last thing I knew, until just now.’

  They looked at the second man, who took up the tale. ‘I heard a voice, thought it was him,’ he gestured to his colleague. ‘I can’t be sure, but I thought he said, “Are you there, Frank?” So I came out of the lounge. That’s the last I knew.’

  They were interrupted by the sound of vehicles pulling up outside. Caroline crossed to the window. She turned to the guards. ‘Your boss has arrived. This should be fun.’ The expression on their faces told Richard her idea of fun and theirs differed greatly.

  When they’d re-told their tale, the head of security questioned the second man. ‘How certain are you that he used your name?’

  ‘I’m not really sure,’ the man admitted. ‘But I thought he did.’

  North watched with increasing bewilderment as the team of security men went from room to room. Quite what they were searching for, he wasn’t certain. Outside, more men were using ladders to ascend a street lamp and nearby tree. The security chief drew him to one side and explained. ‘Don’t worry, Dr North. The man who abducted your daughter won’t be aware that we had every room in the house bugged, and that we positioned surveillance cameras to cover every aspect of the building. Between them there’ll be plenty of evidence to identify him. We’ll be able to get a recognizable likeness of the kidnapper, plus the cameras outside the front will tell us what car he’s using and the registration number. We’ll have a name and address within half an hour and have your daughter back safe and sound in no time.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we inform the police? Isn’t that what usually happens?’

  ‘Hardly,’ the man’s scorn was apparent. ‘A bunch of country bobbies would have no chance of any success compared to the resources we can command. Leave it to us. We’re the experts. We’ll sort it.’

  A man appeared at the door. ‘There’s nothing from the room bugs. Just one sentence, when the man called out. Frank was wrong. He didn’t use a name. After that, nothing but vague muttering, then rustling noises, and the sound of the duct tape being pulled out. But we’ve retrieved the tapes from the CCTV cameras. The ones at the back are blank, but there’s some footage from those at the front. It’s all set up, ready to view.’

  The leader beckoned to Richard and Caroline to follow. In the lounge they stood in a semi-circle in front of the TV. The tape started, showing an excellent image of the drive. After a few seconds a car pulled in. Caroline frowned. ‘That’s my car.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Dr Dunning,’ the security chief stated. He pointed to the screen. ‘Look at the time. That’s a couple of hours before you got here.’ He turned to the other security man. ‘Stop the tape and zoom in on the number plate, will you?’

  The man operating the remote control pressed a couple of buttons. Gradually the image enlarged and centred on the rear of the vehicle. As he adjusted the focus, the letters and numbers became clearly visible. ‘I told you that was my car,’ Caroline exclaimed. ‘That’s my registration number. You must have the time set wrong on the camera. If you run the tape on I bet you’ll see Richard and me getting out.’

  The assistant pressed ‘play’. As the tape moved forward, they saw a man climb out of the driver’s seat and close the door. ‘Who’s that? And what’s he doing with my car? That’s impossible. The time must be wrong. I was in Sheffield collecting Richard then.’ Caroline was mystifie
d.

  There was no reply; although North noticed the security man’s lips tighten as if he was in pain. They watched as the man knocked on the door. One of the guards opened it. After what seemed only an instant, they saw the guard collapse across the threshold. The intruder glanced round. ‘Stop it there,’ the chief ordered. ‘Zoom in on his face.’

  The close-up image was frustratingly unable to pick up little more than a silhouette. ‘I’m sure I know that face from somewhere,’ the head of security muttered. ‘No matter; let the tape run on. We’re sure to get a better image when he leaves, he’ll be head on to the camera then.’

  The intruder scooped the guard up, seemingly without effort, before carrying him indoors. There was a long pause, whilst the screen showed nothing more action-packed than an image of the house door. Eventually it opened, and the intruder emerged, carrying a large bundle, wrapped in a blanket. ‘Now we’ll get something,’ they heard the security chief mutter.

  The kidnapper walked to the rear of the car. He shifted the bundle effortlessly over his shoulder into a fireman’s lift, then opened the car boot. He placed his burden gently inside, before closing the boot lid. ‘That must be Jessica,’ North said in a low tone.

  They watched the man walk to the driver’s door and open it. Before getting into the car he turned, directly facing the camera. He made no effort to avoid recognition. They watched as the man raised two fingers in an unmistakeable gesture of contempt and defiance. ‘Cheeky bastard. Zoom in. Let’s see who he is.’

  All four viewers stared at the close-up image in astonishment. ‘I don’t fucking believe it,’ the security man said. North continued to gaze at the screen. If the camera was to be believed, his daughter had been abducted by the late American President, Ronald Reagan.

  ‘Now, will you involve the police?’ North demanded.

  ‘We can’t. Believe me, I know. We’ll just have to sit tight. See what this guy’s demands are.’

  ‘My wife’s dead. My son’s been murdered. My daughter’s been kidnapped. And you’re asking me to sit around and wait. Wait for what? Wait until Jessica’s body’s found? Wait, while in the meantime that lunatic could be doing God knows what to her?’