The Charlton Affair

by MJ Doherty

  Marsh ordered, “Leave Poulsen there to wait for the forensics. Get her to call you if they find any traces of anything in that van. I want you to find the accountant ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  *****

  Phoebe’s head ached less that night. The throbbing had subsided and it was no longer so tender to touch. She was not a tense, as she knew she would be alone until the morning. Finally able to think clearly, she started to go over what she could remember from the day before.

  She recalled everything about moving into her new apartment, and that Roman had gone out to get food for her and Mark.

  Suddenly, she cried aloud, “Oh my God! Mark!”

  What did he do with Mark? Her heart raced as the abhorrent possibilities came to her. She wondered if he’d killed him at her apartment and left him there, or if he was here somewhere in another airless cell. Is he still alive? With her head in her hands, she sobbed for Mark, and for herself.

  *****

  Inspector Marsh shouted “Shut up!”

  The chatter in the MIR ceased instantly. The night crews were fresh and rested while the day crews looked red-eyed and limp. Almost everyone clutched a mug of coffee. Marsh’s eyes were hanging out of his head with exhaustion as he stood in front of them all. Sally felt much the same way, but she was as determined as Marsh was to keep going now that she was getting closer.

  “Right, you lot, we’re this close,” Marsh announced, holding his forefinger and thumb up, only an inch apart. “Pay attention. We have the white van on CCTV at approximately 0230 hours, heading to the Southbank area. We have the same van leaving the area at about 0430 hours that morning. It came back again at about 1430 hours the next day and left again at about 1525.”

  The crowd nodded appreciatively. Sally wasn’t sure what they appreciated more, the fact that they had the vehicle now, or that they no longer had to examine endless reams of CCTV footage.

  “Forensics have found minute traces of blood on one of the door handles and some fibers in the rear of the van. We’re waiting for the DNA analysis but they say the blood is O-positive and the fibers look like they come from a rug. We should know soon.”

  Marsh continued, “The military have come back with several files. In one of them, a young man they thought was aged sixteen enlisted in the Navy almost thirty years ago. He stayed in the Navy for twelve years. He used the name Stephen Morrow. We’re having his records sent over.”

  Suddenly, the anticipation in the room felt like static electricity dancing on Sally’s skin. Everyone knew they were almost there. The primal urge of the chase coupled with the intense need to rescue the victims in time had electrified them all. They just needed to find the one fact, the one bit of information that would lead them to Morrow, and to Phoebe Rawlins and Mark Mitchell.

  “Middleton’s been to the address listed for the registered owner of the white van. It turns out it’s an accountant in Toowong, Joff McCallum. McCallum is currently out of the country. We’ve got flight information that says he’s in the Cayman Islands. He’s not booked to come back until later in the week. We’ve left messages on his voicemail.” Marsh’s frustration was evident on his worn face.

  “I’m trying to get a warrant to search his Toowong office records in his absence,” Marsh said, anticipating the question.

  “We’re leaving the van where it is, back in the condition we found it," he added.

  "We've got Everett, and we're monitoring his phone in case Morrow makes contact. We’ll also arrange for Everett to call him and organize a meeting.”

  Marsh paused for a moment.

  “Now, assignments. I want a crew on Everett's place, a crew on the accountant's place and keep the crew on Rawlins place. Cooper, take over the Naval records and see what that leads us to. Price, organize and supervise the phone surveillance on all of them. Middleton, keep working on whatever you can get out of Everett and stand by in case we get that warrant. I know you weren't planning on going home…"

  Marsh finished up by telling everyone to get going. They all eagerly complied.

  *****

  Phillips leaned over Everett as he sent the text. Phillips was wearing earphones that were plugged into a recording device in an interview room at Nundah Police Station. Everett's mobile telephone was plugged into the same device. The station was Everett's new home until something else could be arranged for him.

  Everett had spent the hours since he had been brought in sitting in the interview room. Eventually they would put him in a cell in the watch house, but not yet. They still needed him.

  "Yeah, man?" Everett answered the phone nervously.

  Phillips could hear a male voice reply, "You sound nervy, where are you?"

  Everett swallowed and replied, "I'm at home. Where else would I be?"

  Everett looked up at Phillips with a fearful expression.

  The cold voice said, “What do you want?”

  “More supplies. I’m out.” Everett replied, still nervous.

  The telephone suddenly went dead. Morrow had ended the call.

  Phillips thumped the desk, exclaiming loudly, "Fuck! He knows!"

  Phillips threw off his earphones and stormed out of the room to find Sally with the bad news.

  *****

  Amanda sat up in bed, extremely troubled by the day’s events. Her husband lay snoring next to her. He could sleep through a train wreck, she thought sourly. Despite being exhausted from all the emotional tension of recent events, she was too wired to sleep. She thought about poor Roman. He was so defeated. So lost. Thank God he has that dog, she thought, it’s his only real support. He wasn’t that interested in commiserating with Charlie or me.

  She reflected that the police were making progress. Now we know it’s Stillman, but our best chance of finding him is gone. She thought about Phoebe getting the banking information. Her Dad had always said to follow the money. Maybe she should speak to Roman about liaising with the man in the Cayman Islands in Phoebe’s absence?

  She decided to at least try to sleep and lay down, vowing to go over everything she knew in the morning when she had fresh eyes. She would try to find a new direction then.

  She’d just gotten comfortable on her pillow when suddenly her eyes opened wide and she sat up again. What if he was using another car? Darren had said something about the police being interested in a white van. She bolted into the kitchen and turned on the lights and the laptop. She waited impatiently for it to power up.

  Hurriedly, she logged into RP Data and closely examined the plans for the Mayne site she had been watching yesterday. Oh God, her hands flew to her face. The site had double street frontage. She had been watching only one of two entrances.

  Quickly, she dialed Darren, waking him up.

  "I need you to speak to Sally Middleton ASAP," she said in a rush.

  *****

  Sally was looking at the results of the business name search, waiting for ASIC to send her the company search she had requested. All the business name search did was to confirm the current registration of SM Investments Ltd. She was just logging into RP Data to see if the business owned any property when Phillips stomped up to her.

  “We blew it!” He said, upset.

  “Fuck!” Sally blurted out, too tired to be tactful.

  “Morrow hung up on him. Everett was too nervous.”

  Phillips was getting to the end of his rope. They had been working since 0500 the previous morning. Another three hours would make it an even twenty-four. She was about to tell him they needed to get some rest when her phone rang.

  “Sally, it’s Darren. Can you please check out a property in Maine, an industrial site that a green Nissan Maxima pulled up to yesterday afternoon?”

  Sally’s fatigue vanished in an instant as she took down the details. Signaling for Phillips and Poulsen to follow her, she told Phillips to drive them at top speed.

  “Hang on back there,” she warned Poulsen as they took off.

  *****

  Ph
oebe heard the screech of tires and then heavy feet running toward her. The door clanged loudly. The footfalls came closer. Her door burst open and he rushed in and firmly grabbed her.

  She cried out, “What’s happening?”

  He ignored her cries.

  Quickly, he tied her arms behind her back and hoisted her to her feet. Then he shoved her out of the door, pushing her ahead of him, herding her down the corridor. She wasn’t quick enough and she stumbled and fell, making her knees bleed.

  He swore at her and picked her up. He jogged with her in held tightly his arms, only putting her down to open doors before shoving her quickly through them.

  She screamed and protested the whole while. She tried to kick him. He didn’t seem to care or even notice, so intent was he on getting them out of the place.

  When they got outside, he held her with one arm and placed his other hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him. He slapped her face, hard, and wrenched her back into his arms. They reached a dark colored Nissan sedan and he opened the boot and shoved her inside, slamming it shut violently. She screamed loudly as she felt the vehicle lurch into action. It sped away, jostling her mercilessly.

  *****

  Phillips pulled up outside the Mayne address with caution. Sally could see that the lights were on inside the main structure. All three of them entered the property through the open gates, their weapons drawn. They headed toward the light source. Sally took note of several shipping containers placed about the property, on either side of the concrete drive. No vehicles were visible anywhere.

  A heavy metal door seemed to be the only entrance to the building on the driveway side. It was hard to tell in the dark but it looked like a solid brick building attached to an old warehouse at the rear. Sally thought it might be the office for the warehouse. The structures looked like they were from the 1960s or even earlier.

  The metal door was unlocked. With every fiber in her body screaming for caution, Sally quietly released the safety on her service revolver. The three of them slowly made their way inside. The hall was well lit with several doors coming off it and another heavy door at the end. Nodding to Phillips, Sally signaled for Poulsen to follow her as she branched off through one of the doors while Phillips continued on to the heavy door at the end.

  Sally and Poulsen found themselves in a small office surrounded by security monitors and computer equipment. The lights were on and the equipment was activated. Sally could see Phillips on one of the monitors as he entered a small cell through an open metal door. The lights inside the cell turned on when went in. It was empty. She watched as he placed his hand under the blanket on the small cot. She heard him say to himself, “It’s warm.”

  *****

  Phoebe rolled around in the boot of the moving vehicle, desperately trying to orient herself. After using her legs to brace herself, she managed to gain some stability. She wondered what had gone wrong and triggered the flight. Were the police onto him? He had been in such a hurry he hadn’t bound her legs or gagged her.

  She tried to kick out one of the taillights she could see glowing red intermittently. After several attempts, she managed to crash one in, breaking the bulb and covering her foot in broken shards of thin glass. Now she just had to kick it out. Maybe the police will pull him up for having no lights? Maybe someone will hear me screaming through the hole?

  She had almost succeeded when she felt the car slowing. The crunch of tires on gravel vibrated through the boot compartment loudly as he pulled up. She summoned her strength and lashed out with one last kick. She felt a moment of elation as the light capsule popped out and air and noise came in. The car door slammed shut and footsteps crunched in her direction. Her elation was quickly replaced with dread.

  Is this it? Is this where he strangles me and dumps my body? And what about Mark?

  The boot opened and rough hands rolled her over and taped her mouth shut. A scarf was tied around her head so that she couldn’t see.

  “A small change of plans, my dear,” his cold voice said, “nothing to be concerned about. I see you’ve been implementing your own little plan. Trust me, it won’t make a difference.”

  The boot slammed shut and the car lurched forward again. With her mouth taped closed, she was unable to sob, but there was nothing to stop the tears from streaming from her eyes.

  *****

  Inspector Marsh stood with Middleton on the main driveway as police officers combed every inch of the site. Both of them clutched take away coffees as they surveyed the scene. The sun would rise in another couple of hours.

  A police disaster recovery vehicle and a heavy-duty scenes of crime equipped vehicle had been mobilized to provide lighting and other required resources.

  Phillips was snoring in the back of a nearby patrol car with his legs sticking out of the open door. He had finally succumbed to exhaustion.

  The Inspector turned to Sally and said dejectedly, “Looks like we were only moments too late.”

  His worn face was burdened with genuine grief and frustration.

  “Yes, sir,” Sally agreed, every bit as upset as her boss.

  Suddenly, a shout rang out from one of the shipping containers, “Get an ambulance! Now!”

  They dropped their coffees as they ran over. The Inspector arrived first with Sally at his heels.

  “Someone get a blanket,” Sally cried when she saw Mark Mitchell’s prostrate form lying on the cold container floor.

  His hair was matted with congealed blood and he was gagged and bound. She rushed in to remove the gag and the ropes.

  The officer who was checking his neck and chest said with deep concern, “His pulse is faint and he’s still breathing, but it’s very shallow.”

  The Inspector immediately took off his coat and gave it to Sally who placed it gently over Mark. Already warm, it was better then a blanket.

  Marsh ordered, “Get a path cleared for the paramedics when they get here. And organize an escort.”

  He stepped back from the container with Sally at his side. Looking at her, he said with a hopeful expression, “We might have saved one of them.”

  Sally looked up at him in tired relief as she silently prayed that Mark Mitchell would survive.

  His fists clenched and he grated out with grim resolve, “Middleton, we have to find this fucker. We only just missed him. He took Phoebe Rawlins with him. You know what that means.”

  Sally mirrored his determination when she replied, “Yes, sir. She’s still alive. Somewhere.”

  *****

  Roman lay on his bed tossing and turning in a fitful semblance of sleep. Leo’s reassuring bulk took up most of the foot of the bed. Roman opened his eyes yet again and looked out of the window. It was still more then an hour away from sunrise, but there was no point pretending to sleep anymore. He padded to the kitchen. Leo, still sleepy, trailed along behind him.

  Just as he was turning on the coffee machine, the phone rang. He made a desperate dive to answer it.

  Leo bounded toward him as he cried out in joy, “He’s alive! Oh thank you, thank you!”

  His joy quickly disappeared when he received the rest of the news.

  Numbly, he repeated it, “Yes, I understand. Unconscious. Heading to the Royal Brisbane Hospital in an ambulance. Police escort.”

  As he hurried to get dressed, tears streamed down his face and he repeated softly to Leo, “He’s alive.”

  *****

  Phoebe sat on the edge of the bed in her new place of confinement. When he had finally taken off her blindfold and released her bonds, it looked like she was in a bedroom in a suburban home. It was a lovely room, luxurious compared to her cell. They hadn’t driven far enough to leave Brisbane. She realized he probably didn’t have another handy warehouse up his sleeve, so this must be his home.

  Before he had taken off the blindfold, he had tied her to the heavy wooden bed frame. The sounds of an electric drill and furniture being moved out had resounded in the room. After the noise had subsided, he had inform
ed her the windows were screwed shut and a bolt was on the door. He had said he would allow her a trip to the bathroom if she behaved herself. Otherwise there was a bucket on the floor.

  “There’s no point screaming for help, my dear,” he had explained.

  “I’ll hear you and then I’ll hurt you. Do you want to be bound and have your mouth taped up again?”

  She shook her head. The feeling of not quite being able to breath enough air in was still haunting her. She never wanted to have her mouth taped up again.

  “The neighbors won’t hear you anyway. On one side they’re away and the old couple on the other side are quite deaf,” he had smugly informed her.

  After locking her in the room, he had stomped off and she had heard water running somewhere.

  Surveying the room, she could see bars on the windows and dust marks on the floor where items had been removed. The only things left in the room were the bed and a heavy looking set of drawers. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that there were no cameras here. After turning off the light, she stood at her window, looking out over a heavily treed yard in the faint moonlight. At least she was on the ground floor. Trying to fight off the waves of hopelessness, nausea and despair that threatened to overwhelm her, she focused on the trees, the only other living things she could see.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sally woke up abruptly, disoriented. The sound of a telephone ringing and a door slamming in the background startled her out of her stupor and she looked around. Oh my God, I’m in the Inspector’s office! Quickly, she sat up. Looking at her watch, she saw it was 0630 hours. She remembered speaking to him in his office earlier, after the raid on the Mayne site. She must have dozed off.