Next Of Kin (Unnatural Selection #3)

by Somerville, Ann

  “No, that’s fine. Your facilities appear to meet our standards quite well. I can report that there is no basis to the complaints.”

  “I would hope not. Let me show you out.”

  Harry and I ducked down, though we were a long way from the entrance, sitting in the car park. Charlotte and Beth said farewell to the manager and headed to Charlotte’s car.

  “We’re clear,” Beth said. “We’re going to the motorway services as agreed.”

  Charlotte drove off. Harry gave it ten minutes, then we pulled out of the carpark and headed for the motorway, taking the second exit. Charlotte’s Audi was parked on the far edge of the parking area. She and Beth climbed out and into the backseat of Harry’s Ford.

  “Did you see anything useful?” Beth asked.

  “I want another look at that fellow who passed you in the corridor as you were finishing up.”

  Harry fetched the recorders and backtracked to the point I was interested in. “There...yes. Freeze that. Now look at this picture.” Andy had given me the best screenshot they’d been able to get from Heathrow CCTV of ‘Gregorio’. “What do you think?”

  “Pretty close,” Harry said.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Beth said.

  “Could be,” Charlotte agreed. “But that photo is awful.”

  “It’s all we have. Did either of you see his name badge?”

  They both shook their heads. “I wasn’t paying attention, sorry,” Beth said. “I reckon there’s something in that wing though.”

  “Why?” My voice squeaked a little with tension. I didn’t think she noticed though.

  “She said it was unused, but it didn’t have that smell that you get. You know, that musty, damp sort of smell.”

  “Maybe they heat it. That doesn’t need electricity.”

  “Maybe, but the air still smelt too fresh. And although she said the electricity wasn’t connected, I saw a brand new electrical switch on a wall near one of the doors down the corridor. Why would you install one of those if there was no electricity?”

  “Maybe it’s been recently disconnected?” Harry said.

  “Maybe,” Beth said. “But I don’t think she wanted us to look any further. Charlie? What did you think?”

  Charlotte was busy peeling off her fake nose, examining the result in a hand mirror and rubbing at the glue traces on her face, but she had paid full attention to the conversation. “I got the same impression. She was watching us too carefully. She didn’t want us to walk inside even a little way, and there was nothing there that was unsafe. In fact, although the ceiling plasterwork had come down in places, the ceiling itself looked sound. I couldn’t smell rot or damp. If it was really unsafe, Health and Safety would have been all over it with signs and warnings.”

  “Agreed,” Beth said. “So what are you going to do, Anton?”

  I wanted to say, “Go back to the clinic and force them to release Nick,” but I was trying to be sane and sensible about this because I was asking people to do some very risky stuff on my behalf. So instead I said, “Show this footage to Andy, and tell him what you saw and what you think. Thank you.” I twisted around to kiss Charlotte’s cheek, then Beth’s. “You’ve done wonderful work.”

  Beth patted her wig. “I could get used to this. Maybe I should be in another line of work.”

  “Being a PI might pay better,” I said, “but I don’t know if you could look at yourself in the morning.”

  “It’s not me that has to, is it?”

  Charlotte laughed and hugged her girlfriend. “I could look at you whatever you did. Now can we get out of this crap? I look like a tart with these falsies.”

  ~~~~~

  To my relief and not inconsiderable surprise, Andy seized on the footage of ‘Gregorio’ and said if the missing persons investigation didn’t question the man, he would badger his own DI and see if they could do something. He thought Beth’s observations about the west wing of the clinic were interesting, but not enough to justify a warrant. “But let’s shake this guy and see what falls from that.”

  Then I had to wait until the man was questioned, which took another forty-eight hours. All the time I was thinking about that ‘unused’ wing, and wondering if Nick was there, or if we were completely off-track. Karl had to listen to a fair bit of whining from me over those two days, though he said he sympathised with my impatience. Of course he did. But I was being a pain in the arse as well.

  When Andy came around to the house to talk to me, I knew it was because he was delivering bad news.

  “I better make tea, hadn’t I?” I said as I opened the door.

  “Might help,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

  I filled the kettle, put it on, then turned to face him. “Okay. What?”

  “His name is Luis Oliveira, and yes, he’s Brazilian, with no criminal record whatsoever. He’s a nurse, and Burton’s brother-in-law.”

  “So presumably hand in glove with him.”

  “Possibly. But we can’t prove Burton’s done anything for him to be hand in glove with. The missing persons team didn’t want to bring Nick’s name up at this point, so they said they were investigating a hit and run in London during the period ‘Gregorio’ was thought to be in Brazil. His wife vouched for him, and his timesheets at work back up his alibi.”

  “Well, they would, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yeah, I do know that. But we can’t prove he’s ‘Gregorio’ and there’s nothing else to hold him on. We’re pulling phone and bank records, but those will take time to check. We can’t push too hard because if you’re right, Nick could be endangered.”

  “Bloody hell, Andy.”

  “I know. We’ve sent Oliveira’s photo to the police in Brazil, and they might be able to do something with it.”

  “That could take weeks! If Nick’s being held captive, I don’t want him to have to wait for Inspector Ferreira to pull his finger out.”

  He made a face. “Are you sure Harry’s contact won’t talk to us? That would give us the perfect excuse to investigate the clinic directly.”

  “I asked him again. He says no. Can’t the police look for clues along those lines? What about informers?”

  “Informants. They’re fine for criminal underworld stuff but this champagne set kind of crime? Useless.”

  “We have to do something, Andy. Nick’s been gone over two months now. Can you imagine what it’s like for him?”

  “No, I can’t, because it’s more horrible than I can dream of.”

  “I’m breaking into that damn clinic and getting him out.”

  Andy put his hands over his ears, then removed them. “I didn’t just hear you say that. And you didn’t just hear me say I’ll help as much as I can without being indirectly involved.”

  “So I guess you won’t hear me asking you how I might go about this.”

  “I really didn’t hear you ask me anything. But since you didn’t ask, this won’t be my suggestion.”

  His silly grin made me burst out laughing. “We’re both mad.”

  “Maybe that’s why Nick likes us. But you’ll need help.”

  “I’ve got smart friends. Don’t tell me about your ideas, while I fail to make the tea.”

  Chapter 9

  I did need help, but it was there in handfuls. Karl confessed to being horrified at what we were attempting, but that didn’t stop him throwing his weight behind the plan, helping us organise costumes and props and giving valuable advice. When Harry told Angus what we wanted to do, he couldn’t have stopped his lover pitching in—and not just Angus, five of his martial arts friends too.

  Charlotte refused to be excluded, but put her foot down about Beth going in. “You’re too short and slight, darling. No one will believe you’re a policewoman.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’m little.”

  “Beth, we need backup too,” I said, hoping to forestall an argument. “Can you work with Andy?”

  “It’s not fair. Tall girls have all the
fun.” But she agreed to work in the background.

  The plan was simple, illegal, and likely dangerous. Angus, Charlotte and Angus’s chums were to be dressed in hired police uniforms—which would be carefully altered so they were not exact replicas of the real thing—and carry hired batons, radios and helmets. They would charge in, claim there had been a terrorist threat, and try to clear the building out. In the confusion, Harry and I would get into the west wing and search for Nick and the missing Gordon Dangerfield.

  At no point, Andy insisted, was anyone to claim they were actually a police officer, or attempt to arrest anyone, or use more than defensive force. There was the sticky issue of getting the key for the door from the guard, but Harry had practiced with Angus and figured he could swipe the key ring without physically confronting the man, if I distracted him. We were going to be wearing hazmat outfits to hide our faces and cause further confusion.

  Beth and Andy would monitor events from their separate vehicles and would act as interference if we had to make a run for it. The second any of us found evidence that Nick was being held there, Beth would alert the local police. Andy reckoned we had a maximum of ten minutes before the police arrived one way or another. He would act as stopgap cop if absolutely necessary, but I hoped we wouldn’t need him. He could be sacked if his involvement became known. The rest of us might suffer, but his position was the most perilous.

  It was important none of us were grabbed or photographed, and that we got clean away if possible. But it was much more important that we established if Nick was inside the building or not.

  We’d decided to do it at night because it was likely there would be fewer staff and patients around, and the cover of night would add to the confusion. One of Angus’s friends had a house five miles from the clinic, and offered it as a place to change into the costumes. Andy—who was definitely not there and would deny being anywhere near the house if asked—checked out the way the others had batons and belts fixed, and ensured that there was nothing remotely resembling insignia or a Met badge. The uniforms looked incredibly convincing—but then the same company who often supplied the BBC and ITV for their police shows had provided them. Everyone was wearing riot helmets and face masks. I hoped this would prevent people like Charlotte being photographed, because she also had a lot to lose—my pointing this out to her had had no effect whatsoever in deterring her, and she had rightly said we might need a doctor depending on whether we found Nick and the other man or not.

  We all lined up for a final check. “What do you think?” I asked. Angus and his pals made a solid wall of black-clad muscle that looked convincingly intimidating, at least to me.

  “You look like the brute squad,” Andy said. “Stomp around, yell a lot, and don’t give anyone time to ask questions.”

  “Fear, uncertainty and dismay,” Angus said. “I’m good at that. Right, let’s move.”

  Harry drove the anonymous white van we’d hired to the road near the clinic gate. Beth and Andy pulled in behind, and flashed their lights. We were ready to go.

  The van roared up to the clinic’s front entrance, and Angus and the boys piled out, Charlotte and I behind. Harry left the van doors wide open and ran in after us. Angus was already yelling at the receptionist that the clinic had to evacuate because of a reported biological agent threat.

  “Everybody out! Through the back exit, that way, now!” His bellows rattled the windows.

  The receptionist hit the fire alarm, but Angus’s men didn’t give her a chance to ask what the hell was happening, herding her and two nurses who had come to see what the problem was, back down the corridor. Harry danced around the security guard while I got in the man’s face.

  “What the hell are you still doing here?” I shouted. “There’s a bomb about to go off in the carpark! Move it! Move!”

  The guy bolted. Harry held up the key ring in triumph. “Hurry,” I said. “Charlie, make sure no one comes back in here.”

  The reception area was now empty. Harry unlocked the door to the west wing. He and I turned on our flashlights. “Which door?”

  “All of them. Car Betty, we’re in.”

  “Roger, Annie.”

  I wished we’d picked better code names. But right now, I wanted to know what was behind those doors.

  There was just one problem.

  Harry lifted the key ring. “None of these keys are for these locks.”

  “Bugger.” I cast around for something we could smash the door in with. There was a shocking lack of crowbars and sledgehammers lying around for us to use.

  “Wait,” Charlotte said, running back into the reception area. She returned a few seconds later with a fire extinguisher. “Stand back. I’ve done this before.”

  When on earth...? Never mind. She smashed the lock on the first door, which swung open. I found a light switch. To no one’s surprise, it worked. The light revealed an examination room with nice, shiny, brand new equipment, and cupboards full of supplies.

  “Unused, my bottom,” she said. “Next one.”

  The next room was empty but clearly ready for an occupant, with a cot bed, sink and toilet, and shelves on one wall. For staff? Or an unwilling patient?

  And the next room held Nick, swinging to his feet in shock at the noise.

  “What the hell’s going on? Who are you?”

  I pulled off my helmet and gave him a smile. “Hello, love. Ready to go home?”

  “Anton! Yes, I bloody am! But, hang on, there’s another guy here somewhere.”

  “We’ll get him.” I spoke into the microphone on my collar. “Car Betty, call the police now. We’ve found him.”

  Charlotte and Harry bashed in the door next to Nick’s, and I heard them talking to someone, presumably the ‘other guy’. I’m afraid I only had eyes and ears for one person. I crushed Nick against me.

  “God, you’re thin.” And with a short unruly beard, and messy hair longer than I’d ever seen him wear. Scruffy wasn’t a good look for him, but neither was captivity. Fortunately, I planned to sort both out damn quickly.

  He cupped my face as if he couldn’t believe I was really there. “How the hell did you find me? And what’s this get up?” He poked at the hazmat suit.

  “Long story. Have you got any shoes?” He was dressed in a nondescript pair of shorts and T-shirt. He’d be cold outside. I doubted he gave a damn, but I did.

  “No. Hang on, there are...there.” He put on a pair of thin slippers. Best he could do, I supposed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I grabbed his hand and dragged him out of that crummy room, out into the dark corridor. Charlotte and Harry had the other fellow in tow. I heard a lot of angry shouting. “Quick! Before they come back!”

  But when we burst through the glass doors, planning to make a run for Beth’s vehicle, a glare of bright lights blinded me. I pushed Nick protectively behind me. “You can’t have him. I’ll stop you!”

  “Anton, to your left. It’s okay. All of you, hurry.”

  Andy. I shielded my eyes and ran to the left, dragging Nick along in my firmest grip. Someone rushed forward to wrap a blanket around Nick, and someone else did the same for the other guy—who I supposed had to be Gordon Dangerfield—taking him out of Harry and Charlotte’s hands. Nick and Gordon were guided over to an ambulance. I went to follow, but saw Andy coming towards us.

  “I thought you said we had ten minutes,” I said, keeping my voice down.

  “Things have moved on. Is he okay?”

  “He looks it. But I need to....” I waved over towards Nick’s location.

  “Go on.”

  I arrived at the ambulance to find Nick sitting on the ambulance steps, arguing with a paramedic. “No, I am not fucking going to a hospital. Anton, tell her.”

  “But Nick—”

  “Tell her.”

  “Um...I’m afraid he’s not fucking going to a hospital, miss. He’s been locked up for over two months.”

  Nick looked up at me. “Have I? Fuck.” He looked rather
fragile at that. I knelt in front of him and took his hands. “I was sure they were going to kill us.”

  “But they didn’t.”

  The paramedic made another attempt to listen to his heart. “Sir, you need to be checked out.”

  He brushed her hand and the stethoscope aside. “No, I need to go home with my husband to my own bed. I can see my own fucking GP tomorrow. I’m fine. Leave me alone.” He stood and pushed the paramedic away, reaching for me. I pulled him away from the ambulance. Gordon was lying on a gurney, being a model patient. But then he didn’t have anyone to fight for him. Nick looked at him, then at me.

  “Andy? Does Gordon have a family?” I asked.

  “A sister.”

  “You better call her. And do what you can to stop the poor sod being kept in hospital tonight. He’s been through enough.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” Andy stared at Nick. “Anton’s been boring the hell out of us, telling us you were still alive. And bugger me, you are.” He grinned and wrapped Nick in a hug. “Welcome back.”

  “Thanks, you bastard. Anton? What’s happening?”

  “I have no idea. Let’s find somewhere warm for you to sit—”

  A tall figure lunged out of the mass of milling people. “Nick!” Charlotte threw herself at her friend. “Are you all right?” She hugged him so tight I thought she’d suffocate him. Nick didn’t seem to mind, but I was relieved when she let him go.

  “I’m fine, Charlie, but when did you join the...what the hell are you wearing?” He looked past her. “Harry? What are you all doing here?” Nick clung to my arm. “Am I dreaming all this?”

  “Not unless we are too. No, we’re real,” Harry said, grinning madly. “Come here.” He also insisted on giving Nick a hug, which Nick returned just as enthusiastically. “You’ve got one amazing husband, Nick Guthrie.”

  “I already knew that. Where’s Angus?”

  “Over there, er...possibly being arrested. Excuse me. I better go and talk to someone.”

  Charlotte tugged at my shoulder. “My car’s over there, with Beth. Come and sit. It’ll be warmer.”

  The place was swarming with police officers—the real thing. There was still a lot of shouting, and civilians being surrounded by police. Some of ours, some of theirs. “Is that Chris Stevens?” Nick asked, pointing, just as we got to the Audi. “What’s he doing here?”