“Jackie, Jackie, what is it?”
She turned to him, seeming to take a few moments to recognise him.
“Tom. It’s Lucy.” She dropped the phone onto the floor. Tom picked it up and, crouching beside her, spoke into it.
“Hello. It’s Tom Brown here. What’s happened? Is Lucy hurt?”
“No. Well I don’t know. Someone picked her up from school and… well… ”
Jackie took the phone back from Tom, recovering a little. Andrew and Shirley had joined them and were standing behind him. Jackie checked her watch; it was 3.55 pm.
“Listen, Danni, I didn’t phone and that note wasn’t from me. I’m going to call the police. Can you go back to the school; I’ll send the police there. I’m on my way.”
Tom helped her to her feet. She leant unsteadily against the wall and her hands were shaking as she keyed the emergency number.
“I need to go,” she said to the group, her voice trembling. “I need to get… ”
“I’ll drive you,” said Tom.
Grace had joined the group.
“No need,” she said, “we’ll get her there with a police escort… ”
“I’ll come with you anyway,” Tom said. He looked across at Grace and wasn’t sure whether or not he detected a brief scowl. He gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Jackie was speaking to the police. Andrew himself hurried down the stairs to the ground floor reception and told them to get a car round as soon as possible, giving the destination as Jackie’s home – she could redirect it to the school as they got closer. He also asked for the police escort. “A serious emergency,” he said, without elaborating.
Jackie and Tom joined him almost before he had finished delivering his message. The car pulled up outside within two minutes, a police motorcycle half a minute later. They set off at 4.03 pm. It was already getting dark, making the situation seem even more desperate.
On the way, Jackie called her husband, telling him what had happened and to go home in case Lucy turned up; then Lucy’s father – her first husband. He could do nothing – he lived in Ayrshire – but just in case Lucy called him. She contacted the school, explaining the situation, and telling them that her child-minder and the police were on their way. They assured her that the police were already there and had started asking questions, and Danni arrived as she was speaking. Jackie phoned her PA, Cindy Pearce, at her constituency office to check whether anyone had asked for some of her letterhead notepaper. Not as far as Cindy knew, but she would ask around.
Then, biting her lip as she asked, “I don’t suppose Lucy’s there, is she?”
“No, I expect she’s with Danni,” said Cindy. “Why, what’s wrong, Jackie?”
Jackie told her, the effort destroying her composure. Her voice broke and Tom took the phone from her.
“Hi, it’s Tom Brown. We’re on our way to Lucy’s school, Cindy, we’ll keep you posted. Let Jackie know if anything happens at your end.”
“Of course. Oh, God!”
Jackie took the phone back from him and made calls to the homes of three of Lucy’s friends, more to fill the time than with any real expectation or hope of a positive outcome. No-one had seen her.
They were just ahead of the rush hour and with the police out-rider they made it to the school in thirty-seven minutes, not much more than half the time it usually took, arriving at 4.40 pm.
Jackie ran inside, past the two police cars parked in the playground. Tom followed, asking their driver and the out-rider to wait. The staff had provided a good description of the man – tall, late twenties to mid-thirties, close-cropped hair, black-rimmed glasses, well-dressed in a lounge suit and tie, pleasant, well-spoken. There had been nothing about him to arouse suspicion, except in retrospect – he was wearing gloves; they noticed when he handed them the letter. Even though it was nearing the end of November, it was still very mild. The police had acquired a digital photo of Lucy from the school’s computer records, and Jackie okay-ed their circulating this to patrol cars in the area.
Most of the staff were in tears and Lucy’s own teacher was inconsolable. The Security Supervisor was being questioned by DI Keith Warnock, the investigating officer, and looked completely shattered by the event. He had actually spoken to the man, exchanging friendly greetings, as he entered the premises alone and when he left shortly afterwards with Lucy.
They asked Jackie about a possible misunderstanding – a mix-up on dates, for example – just for the purpose of eliminating the obvious. However, nothing as straightforward as that would explain the phone call and a forged letter. Jackie was unable to identify anyone from the description, at least no-one specific.
Inspector Warnock took Tom to one side. The questioning of Jackie and the staff was taking place in the school hall; the policeman led him through to the foyer. In the year-six classroom off it, helped by a teaching assistant, police were carefully checking Lucy’s desk and the PC she shared with three other pupils. The inspector was a tall, well-built man with strong features, and an air of authority and reliability. But in spite of the feeling of confidence he inspired, he was clearly very concerned.
“This doesn’t look good, sir,” he said. “Whoever did this took an enormous risk. He must have known there was a good chance the school would phone Mrs Hewlett back to confirm the arrangements after receiving the call. That’s what they should have done, in which case we’d have been here waiting for him when he arrived. He must have been very confident of the plan and very convincing in the role. We’ve checked the call; from a mobile reported stolen earlier today. The school record all incoming calls and keep them for a week, just in case – standard practice now. This one had loud traffic noise virtually drowning out the caller. Obviously to mask their voice.”
“What would he – they – want her for?” asked Tom. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“I don’t think it’s anything to do with sex if that’s what you mean,” the policeman replied, “because it’s been so well set up and carried out with a lot of bottle. She’s obviously been targeted and it’s most likely something to do with the mum.”
At 5.50 pm, Jackie’s mobile phone rang; it was Cindy and she sounded very excited.
“Jackie, I’ve got someone here who would like to speak to you… ”
“Hi, Mum! Cindy said I had to phone you… ”
“Lucy!” shouted Jackie. “Oh, darling, where have you been? Are you alright? What happened? How many times… ?” she broke down crying and Danni took the phone from her.
“Hi, Lucy, it’s me… ”
“Is Mum okay? What’s wrong?”
“Yes, she’s okay, it’s just that… well, she’ll tell you… just a minute… ”
Jackie recovered and took the phone again.
“I’ll tell you later, darling,” she said. “Could you put Cindy back on for now?”
“Okay, see you soon.”
“Hi,” said Cindy. “She just walked in a couple of minutes ago. She’s got a letter for you that this guy gave her. I’ve not opened it, obviously, and I haven’t asked her anything about where she’s been. What do you want me to do?”
Jackie looked at Inspector Warnock.
“Can we all go home?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he said, “but we’d like to come round right away. It’s important we talk to Lucy as soon as possible, while everything is fresh in her mind.”
Jackie nodded, and spoke into the phone again.
“Cindy, can you take Lucy home? Eddie’s already there and I’ll set off right away.”
“Okay. Thank God!”
“I’ll get going back, then,” said Tom.
“No, please come to the house,” said Jackie.
“It would be useful just to have a few words,” the Inspector put in.
“Okay,” said Tom. “The car’s waiting outside.”
“That’s alright, sir, Mrs Hewlett can travel with me. Perhaps you could follow on behind.”
Tom t
hanked and dismissed the motor cycle escort, and the small convoy of two police cars and Tom’s car headed off for the joyous reunion.
An hour later, as he was being driven back, Tom phoned Grace to tell her what had happened. She answered the call straight away.
“Hi, Grace.”
“Hi. What’s happened?” her voice seemed flat and indifferent.
“Well, no panic,” said Tom. “Lucy’s back with Jackie. No harm done. This guy who picked her up at school just took her round a few places – the zoo at Benton Woods, exhibition of Russian children’s paintings, McDonald’s. She seems to have had a really good time, in fact. Then he dropped her off at Jackie’s office. Didn’t touch her at all, but left a letter for Jackie.”
“Really.”
“Sorry, Grace, is this a bad time to talk? You seem a bit distracted.”
“No, go on. What did it say?”
“I’ve got a copy here – the nice policeman let me have one. I’ll read it to you. ‘Your child has been taken away for just over two hours. I trust, and hope, that this short experience has been agonising for you. By now you have been reunited and she is with you again to love and cherish. Before returning to your heinous work, stop a moment to consider the feelings of those parents whose children you will remove for ever. I sincerely hope it will not be necessary to reinforce this message.’ What do you think of that?”
For the first time, Grace showed some active interest. “So what is she planning to do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” said Tom. “I guess she’ll talk to the school again to make sure they are more diligent and the police will probably… ”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Grace. “I guess it must be quite a shock. She’ll have to think carefully about it.”
“Right,” said Tom. “Oh, and could you let Andrew know? I guess he’ll be anxious to hear the news.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Doing anything exciting this weekend?” he asked.
Grace brightened up.
“Nothing at all, exciting or otherwise. I don’t suppose you can suggest anything, can you?” He seemed to be listening to a different person.
“Nothing that I can specifically help you with, well not this weekend, anyway. But if I think of something, I’ll get in touch.”
“That’s very selfless of you. I’ll never let the phone away from my side. Actually, I was planning to go into the office tomorrow; will you be there for your surgery?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll see you there, then.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Good night.”
“Night.”
He sat back in his seat, slipping the copy of the letter into his pocket. Then he thought about something Inspector Warnock had said. He phoned Mags.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi. Is Katey with you?”
“Yes, she’s right here. We were just talking… ”
“Good.”
“Do you want to speak to her?”
“No, it’s alright.”
There was a pause. He could imagine Mags trying to work out what was going on.
“Are you okay? Are you on your way back?”
“I’m fine. See you soon.”
He ended the call, wondering how he was going to explain it later.
Andrew phoned Jackie on her mobile on Saturday morning. She noted his name on the display and waited for a long time before answering.
“Yes, Andrew.”
“Jackie, are you okay? I heard from Grace last night that Lucy was returned unharmed. God, what a shock it must have been.”
“Yes, but everything’s alright now. Thanks for phoning… ”
“Listen, Jackie. If you need to take a few days next week, that’s fine. I don’t suppose you want to let her out of your sight right now.”
“Well, thanks. I might just… ”
“And what was this about a letter Lucy had been given?”
“Just someone trying to scare me, that’s all. I’m not going public with this, Andrew. I’ve told the police to keep it out of the press.”
“What did they say to that? It’s sort of tying their hands a bit, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly what they did say, but I don’t want to start attracting every crank with a point of view about the NJR.”
“The NJR? What’s that got to do with Lucy’s abduction?”
“Can I talk to you next week, Andrew? She’s right next to me at the moment. Okay?”
“Of course. Keep her right there, Jackie. Just come back when you’re ready.”
“Okay, thanks.”
On Thursday morning, Jackie handed a letter to Shirley Topliss requesting that she pass it to Andrew as soon as possible. She talked briefly with Shirley about the events of the previous Friday and thanked her for her concern and good wishes. At around midday, Andrew walked into Jackie’s office with the letter in his hand.
“Jackie, are you absolutely sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” Her eyes searched his face for a reaction.
“Well, I completely understand, of course. Tom told me what the letter said, and I half expected it. And, naturally, under the circumstances, I accept your resignation from the Shadow Ministerial role and the task force. But I would like you to continue as Member of Parliament. I know Tom would like that as well. I hope you don’t mind, but we discussed it at some length.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Andrew, I think perhaps… ”
“Just look at it this way, Jackie. You seem to want to keep the whole issue with Lucy low profile. I can understand that. But it will beg a whole lot of questions if you suddenly give up everything. If you just relinquish the senior role and the working group, we can say that you feel you have taken the proposals for reform as far as you need to be involved, and are concerned that you have neglected your local commitments in recent months. So you have decided to concentrate on your responsibilities towards your constituents – or something like that. That should satisfy the press and it also sends a clear message to the person who wrote that letter. In effect, he’s succeeded in warning you off.”
Jackie sighed. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“But that does make sense, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” She looked at her watch and stood up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting in five minutes’ time.”
When Tom arrived in Marlburgh for his afternoon surgery an hour later, Grace was buzzing around the place in a rare state of animation.
“What have I missed?” he asked, as she followed him into his office.
“Nothing, why?”
“Well you just look rather too happy for there not to be something going on.”
“Not at all,” she said, smiling widely at him. “But every so often I stop to think how lucky I am to have such a meaningful job and such a wonderful boss.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he said, smiling back. “Oh, by the way, Jackie has handed in her resignation and Andrew has accepted it.”
“Oh, well,” said Grace, with no pretence at surprise. “You and I managed perfectly well without her before. I’m sure we’ll be able to struggle along.”
She turned and almost danced out of the room.
CHAPTER 18
The snow was still falling gently onto the gleaming white blanket that already covered the churchyard and the surrounding streets. The lights in the church illuminated the dancing flakes passing close to its windows, producing a wonderfully seasonal picture. In contrast, the single bell tolled mournfully in recognition of the solemnity of the occasion.
The streets around All Saints were heaving with people and the church itself was filled to well beyond its intended capacity. Jad had been smuggled there early in the day – well before the service was due to start at 11.00 am – to avoid his having to be driven through the crowds.
Inside, the church was bedecked with Christmas decorati
ons including a huge tree covered in twinkling lights to the left of the front pew. On each side of the packed congregation, three plain-clothed prison officers stood line-abreast throughout the proceedings, their backs to the wall, never once taking their eyes off their charge who was seated between Tom and Mags in the front row.
The latter held his hand throughout the whole of the service. Also on the front row, in seats reserved for them, were Jack and Katey, George Holland, and Lucille and Barney Ambrose. At the back of the church, David Gerrard and Jo Cottrell were squashed in with the rest of the general public. Whether the massed crowds had turned out to ‘celebrate the life of Alma Deverall’, as the presiding vicar put it, or just to catch a glimpse of her son, was irrelevant. Either way, Alma finally received the send-off Jad felt she deserved.
As the service neared its end, the vicar nodded towards Jad, who rose and stepped forward past the Christmas tree and climbed the short curving staircase to the elevated pulpit. He opened the Bible on the book-stand in front of him and addressed the congregation.
“A reading from the book of Psalms, Chapter 37.” He lowered his eyes and read from the text.
“Do not fret because of the wicked:
do not be envious of wrongdoers,
for they will soon fade like the grass,
and whither like the green herb
“Yet a little while, and the wicked will be no more:
though you look diligently for their place, they will not be there.
But the meek shall inherit the land,
And delight in abundant prosperity.
“The wicked plot against the righteous,
and gnash their teeth at them:
but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he sees that their day is coming.
“The wicked draw their sword and bend their bows
to bring down the poor and needy,
to kill those who walk uprightly;
their sword shall enter their own heart,
and their bows shall be broken.
“The righteous shall be kept safe forever,
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