Captive Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  **

  Erin Jones arrived at work rather later than usual. After her visit to the police station, she had returned to her flat and had drunk a bottle of white wine. Consequently, she’d awoken hungover and had dozed off back to sleep. She told her supervisor she’d had a dental appointment and had forgotten to mention it the previous day. It was an unoriginal excuse and she was sure it wasn’t believed but she didn’t care, all she could think about was what had befallen Scott. She kept checking Facebook and local news sites to see whether there was any hint of crimes that may be relevant. There was only one new item and that concerned a van which had been found burnt out in a field following a road traffic accident causing the deaths of the three occupants. She placed her phone on her desk as she needed to make sure that the police sergeant could contact her at any time, should she have any information about Scott.

  Last night she’d felt so depressed as she realised how little she knew of his background. He never spoke about his parents, only in the vaguest terms. If only she’d known more about his background and circle of friends she might have been able to give the police more information to work with. They’d lived for the moment, enjoying their time together and she was always too distracted by material comforts to pay more attention to what really mattered. Today was going to be a real struggle. She washed down some more painkillers with her bottle of water and switched on her computer begin her work and checked through her list of assignments for the day.

  At just after 11 a.m. she was contemplating taking a break when her mobile rang. She snatched at the phone and saw that the display showed an unknown number. It could be the police with some information and her stomach lurched.

  ‘Hello,’ she answered tentatively.

  ‘Erin?’ asked the caller.

  ‘Yes, who is it please?’

  ‘Oh, I’m a friend of Scott’s.’

  ‘Scott? Have you heard from him? Is he OK, I can’t contact him!’

  Erin was aware of the other staff looking at her so she left her desk and walked down the corridor to gain some privacy.

  ‘He’s in hospital. He had an accident and I took him in. I didn’t know your name and it wasn’t until he came round that he told me to contact you. I got your name off his phone.’

  ‘How is he? Is he badly injured?’ Erin was worried and elated at the same time.

  ‘Oh, he’s not in any pain at the moment. Listen, he wants to see you. I’ve come to collect you. I’m outside the university. We can go now.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, that’s great. How will I recognise you?’

  ‘Don’t worry, he’s shown me a picture of you. I’m parked in the visitors’ car park. I’m in a black Ford Focus, a fifty-four registration. You should see me, I’ll beep my horn when I spot you.’

  ‘Wait whilst I get my coat, I’ll see you in five minutes.’

  Erin ran back to her desk, grabbed her jacket and bag and ran out of the department ignoring the calls of her irate supervisor. She was going to see Scott. As she ran along she brought up the number of Sergeant Donna Peters. She phoned and after six rings the voicemail asked her to leave a message. ‘Sergeant Peters, it’s Erin Jones, Scott is in hospital, I’m going to see him now! Please call me back.’

  Jed placed his phone back in his pocket and smiled to himself. He would stay in the car so he wouldn’t feature on any security cameras. The car would be captured on film but this was of no consequence. It had tinted windows and bore the plates of a car which according to records had been scrapped six months ago. It had been so easy to fool Erin, she was obviously as stupid as Scott had been, they were well matched. Well, they might not suffer the exact same fate but the end result would be the same. This was the final task to be completed. Damage limitation would now be complete. Perhaps Mr Radford might reward him with a little bonus for picking up the pieces.

  He saw Erin tottering along as fast as her high heeled boots would allow. Jed gave a gentle beep on the car horn and she put up her hand in acknowledgement. She smiled and a look of relief washed over her face. Inwardly Jed smiled as well. He was hoping that he might be in line for a small monetary bonus from his boss, however, when he saw the vision in front of him he thought there might be a different sort of bonus.

  She opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat.

  ‘Hi,’ said Jed, ‘Scott is really looking forward to being reunited with you.’

  Chapter 51

  At Persford Police Station the atmosphere was frenetic. They were still awaiting the detailed forensic reports from Alistair but they now had a name and a probable location of Jessica’s captivity to investigate. The fact that Ron Radford was the owner of Brensford Manor also convinced Andy Walters that The Flamingo club was connected with this affair. Could Scott Briggs and Lee Percival be the identities of the two male bodies, he would bet on it. To be able to charge Ron Radford with a serious offence was the stuff of his dreams. That local business magnate had eluded the police for too long and nobody truly believed that his huge wealth had all been obtained legally.

  Andy and Mike were planning the best way to go about interviewing Ron Radford and investigating the lap dancing club. They needed to conduct enquiries at the same time to avoid anyone being alerted on either site. Initially, they planned to question Ron Radford on the premises but if he proved to be uncooperative they could insist he came into the station. A magistrate was expected to sign a search warrant for his property this afternoon. As Shani Patel had identified the site of Jessica’s incarceration Andy thought it only right that she should be on the team paying a visit to Brensford Manor. He also thought it would be more appropriate if she didn’t visit the lap dancing club. Therefore, she would accompany him to interview Ron Radford, along with a team of uniformed officers who could search the extensive grounds. Andy had looked at Ron’s property on Google Earth and it was an impressive pile. A sprawling house with numerous outbuildings and large gardens.

  The other team led by Inspector Mike Harris would visit the lap dancing club. DC Dave Goodman would be the other member of CID, again accompanied by a team from the uniformed branch. Home office officials had also been notified in the event that they found any illegal immigrants without the necessary documents working there. They were planning both visits for 7 p.m. this evening. Without due reason, visits very late in the evening could constitute harassment. So far they only had Jessica’s testament that she had been held captive. Surely someone with a responsible job in the city wouldn’t make all of this up. Her boyfriend had been courageous enough to come forward and admit buying illegal drugs so it seemed very unlikely that this was an elaborate hoax.

  Andy had also actioned one of his team to contact local dentists to find out whether either Scott Briggs or Lee Percival were patients in order to access their dental records. So far examination of road traffic cameras had not proved useful. There were very few near to the field where the van was found although several vans had been seen to pass through the last main road junction on the most likely route to the field. One of the registrations was shown to belong to a fifteen-year old Nissan Micra car so someone had obviously stolen the plates from the car and affixed them to the stolen van. These details were now being cross-checked against any reports of stolen vehicles and the owner of the Nissan Micra was being traced.

  Donna Peters knocked on Andy’s office door.

  ‘Sir, I’ve a voicemail from Erin Jones. She left a message saying that her boyfriend Scott was in hospital and she was going to visit him. She asked me to phone her back.’

  Andy Walters frowned. ‘But I thought we checked all the hospitals and no-one of that name had been admitted?’

  ‘We did check. I’ve just had someone check again, well the three nearest hospitals and he’s not in any of them. I keep phoning her mobile but it just connects to her voicemail.’

  ‘So what do you think has happened?’

  ‘Well, I’ve just phoned the university where she works and a colleague says she took a c
all on her mobile and then rushed out without explanation. They heard Erin say Scott’s name and then she asked if he was OK, but that’s all they could tell me.’

  ‘She works at the university?’

  ‘Yes, admin assistant apparently, chemistry department.’

  ‘Oh, no, I don’t like the sound of this.’ Andy leaned back in his chair. He had a bad feeling about this. Someone else was connected with the university. Somehow this investigation seemed to be spreading like an oil slick, encompassing more and more victims. He didn’t want to speculate but it sounded as though Erin had been duped.

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘OK, Donna, keep me posted. Keep trying her number. See whether we can trace any numbers which have phoned her mobile. Although if you do trace anything it will doubtless be from an unregistered mobile. See if we can check CCTV at the university,’ he sighed. ‘That’s all we can do for the moment.’

  ‘OK, will do,’ and Donna left Andy to his thoughts.

  **

  Shirley had been shocked when she’d taken Natasha her breakfast. She was used to seeing Natasha in pain and ready for her next set of painkillers but this morning she was barely responsive. Her speech was indistinct and she was holding her head, occasionally thrashing it from side to side and against the pillow. It was a distressing sight. Shirley had immediately phoned their on-call nurse who said she would contact the consultant but in the meantime, Shirley should increase the dose of steroids and she would attend as soon as possible to administer a pain-killing injection.

  **

  ‘How sure are you that we can get some forensic evidence of Jessica’s incarceration?’ Chief Superintendent Leighton asked Mike and Andy.

  ‘Well, if there was as much blood as Jessica claims both from her and her captor, then there should still be traces. The floor is tiled, it could have soaked into the grouting. Also, Luminol should show up blood stains.’

  ‘Well that’s true, providing she’s not exaggerating,’ said the superintendent.

  ‘Jessica has agreed to accompany us and try to identify where she was held captive. She has been very reluctant as it seems she’s suffered some sort of post-traumatic incident today. Her GP had to give her some medication. Thankfully our Family Liaison officer Jill has managed to persuade her and will accompany Jessica to give her some moral support.’

  The Chief Superintendent stood to gaze out of his office window. ‘You do know how serious it will be if nothing is found? Ron Radford plays golf with the Assistant Chief Constable. They’re good pals. Also, Ron is involved in a lot of charity work, Rotary, lots of health charities, youth clubs. He’s a pillar of the community as far as many are concerned.’

  Mike and Andy both rolled their eyes at this latest comment.

  ‘Yes, I know, there have been accusations and allegations before and nobody in this room believes his wealth has been obtained through legitimate businesses. But suspecting is one thing and proving it is another. We still have no idea why he might have wanted this chap to steal that chemical compound from the university do we?’

  ‘Well, not exactly but someone thinks they saw something in a local paper about his daughter being ill with cancer and the family have been fundraising for cancer charities. It’s unlikely we could obtain a court order to access her medical records as she’s unlikely to be involved in any crime.’

  ‘But what was he planning to do with it? Treat her with it? It sounds preposterous. It might have killed her if it is a prototype treatment.’ Peter Leighton started to pace back and forth.

  Mike and Andy decided it was best to remain silent rather than to argue their case. Their boss didn’t like to feel he was being pressurised or being badgered into making a decision.

  After what seemed like an age, Peter turned around and sat down again. ‘OK, I’ll authorise you to take a forensic team and Jessica along to Ron’s place. Make sure you are organised, we don’t want any fuck-ups. But I’m telling you, if this all goes wrong then it’s not going to look good for you at all.’

  **

  Later that day Ron returned from a business meeting. He rushed into the lounge to find Shirley in her familiar pose on the sofa drinking a gin and tonic.

  ‘How is she now?’ he asked.

  ‘Better than this morning, comfortable, I guess you would say. She’s sleeping.’

  ‘I phoned Dr Fitzwilliam, he’s arranging another scan early next week. I’ve organised an ambulance to take Natasha.’

  ‘I’m just afraid what the scan will show,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Listen, I’ve something interesting to tell you. Wait, whilst I get a drink.’

  Ron poured himself a couple of fingers of whisky and sat down facing Shirley. He took a large gulp. ‘There’s a doctor in Switzerland who has just developed a new surgical technique for treating glioblastoma tumours, particularly those in the same location as Natasha’s. I didn’t understand it all but it’s to do with how they can guide the laser to cut away the tumour, it’s more accurate, less chance of brain damage.’

  Shirley raised her eyebrows. ‘He didn’t mention it before.’

  ‘Well, it’s very new, as I said and Dr Fitzwilliam was waiting to see how this latest patient recovered. He didn’t want to get our hopes up.’

  ‘And, how is the patient?’

  ‘Well, it seems the young man is better than expected. He’s expected to leave hospital soon. Although he will have a long recovery. It’s amazing,’ he finished his drink and poured another one.

  ‘Has he agreed to take Natasha as a patient?’

  ‘Well, not yet, but I’m flying out next week, once I’ve been able to set up a meeting with him. I’m trying to contact him, but it’s the weekend now, so I might not be able to get in touch with him until Monday,’ he paused. ‘It’s our last chance, we’ve got to take a gamble on this.’

  Shirley finished her drink, ‘OK, let’s do it,’ she said and poured herself another drink.

  They sat in companionable silence for a while. Then Ron’s mobile buzzed.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, boss,’ said the voice, ‘the police are here to speak to you.’

  Chapter 52

  Detective Inspector Mike Harris accompanied by Detective Constable Paul Goodman were parked in a road adjacent to the one where The Flamingo club was located. They had just received notice that a marked car along with a team of two uniformed officers had arrived and was parking nearby.

  ‘Right, Paul, let’s go and see what’s occurring in Mr Radford’s emporium. And keep your mind on the job!’ he joked.

  As it was early in the evening they weren’t expecting the place to be very busy but most of the staff should now be present. They entered the main door and were met by a middle-aged heavily made-up woman with bleached blonde hair. She was scantily dressed in a black basque and skin-tight leather trousers,

  ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ she said, ‘welcome to The Flamingo.’

  ‘Police,’ said Inspector Harris, showing his identification. The uniformed officers were by now inside the lobby of the club and a worried expression crossed the woman’s face.

  ‘Who’s in charge here?’ asked Mike Harris.

  ‘I’ll get Clive,’ she said, disappearing through a door and into a corridor. Paul Goodman caught the door before it closed and they followed the scurrying receptionist. She burst into an office at the back which said “Manager” on the door. The two officers heard raised voices and then they too entered the smoke-filled office.

  ‘Evening, Clive,’ said Mike Harris, ‘business doing well?’

  ‘Piss off Lexie,’ said Clive to the receptionist. ‘Business is doing just great and would do even better if you lot would leave me alone.’

  ‘We just need a little chat with you. Providing you cooperate we’ll leave you in peace. Should you decide to be awkward we have a warrant to search these premises,’ Paul informed the manager.

  ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen, no need to start that. Can I offer you a drink? Or perhaps y
ou’d like to stay behind to see one of the shows?’

  ‘Let’s just get on with it, shall we,’ said Mike, pulling out one of the seats in front of Clive’s desk. ‘We’d like to speak to two of your employees, Lee Percival and Scott Briggs.’

  ‘Ha, well, that’s a coincidence, I’d like to speak to Lee as well. I’ve not seen him for a couple of evenings and if he does ever turn up again he’ll be getting his P45. He’s left me in the lurch, cheeky bastard.’

  Mike and Paul exchanged glances. ‘Scott Briggs?’

  ‘Who? Never heard of him. He doesn’t work here.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Certain, I’m not an idiot. So if that’s all?’

  ‘One more thing. Have any of your girls not turned up for work?’

  ‘No, all present and correct, well not that correct I suppose,’ said Clive, laughing.

  ‘Can we see your list of employees?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll just get the folder.’

  Clive went over to the filing cabinet and brought out two folders. He handed them to the detectives.

  Paul looked through the lists of security personnel employed by the club and noted down the names. He also made a note of Lee Percival’s address. He then flicked through the lists of girls employed there. He took a photo of each of the sheets, nine girls in total. There were contact numbers and addresses so it should be easy enough to check the register. However, Paul and Mike both knew that the documents they’d been shown were the official ones and it would be very hard to find out who was being employed illegally or on a casual basis.