The Vanishing Child: A gripping crime thriller with a climax you won't see coming (Detective Arla Baker Series Book 9)

by ML Rose

  The man wasn't paying him any attention. He seemed obsessed with what he had found.

  Emmanuel slipped off the chair. He didn't make any sound. He ran to the window they had just entered through. The windowsill was too high for him to reach, but there was a chair just below the window. Next to the chair there was a bookshelf.

  Emmanuel was good at climbing. His mother called him a little monkey for precisely that reason.

  Emmanuel was also a gymnast, and he worked hard at it. He was little, but he was strong. His gymnastic coaches loved him. They trained him well, and the training was now paying off.

  He climbed on the chair, then grabbed the windowsill with both hands. He put one foot on the bookshelf and lifted himself. To his surprise, it wasn't very difficult. The window was open, and he could pull himself up by delivering a foot on the rungs of the bookshelf. He scooted up on the ledge, and sat on the windowsill. He heard steps behind him, and the man whispering his name.

  He looked behind.

  The man was standing in the middle of the library, looking round, searching for him. Their eyes met, and the man's eyes became big and round.

  He shouted a grown-up word very loudly, then ran towards him. Emmanuel looked at the other side of the window. The drop wasn't too bad. He had fallen from worse when he played on the monkey bars in the park. He jumped, and then slipped, rolling over. He fell on the floor outside, and it hurt, but it wasn’t too bad.

  He was up and running as fast as he could.

  Emmanuel could hear the man behind him, calling his name. Emmanuel scurried round the corner, swift as a mouse. The wide, arched ceiling hallway stretched in front of him, but there was a tiny alcove to his right, with a staircase leading down it. Emmanuel went down the staircase, and into another hallway that was very similar.

  In front of him there was a big green lawn, surrounded by the castle. Emmanuel now knew he was on the ground floor. Which meant there might be gates that could lead to the main entrance. The man had said his mummy and daddy were here, but Emmanuel didn't believe him. He ran as fast as he could, and his ears picked up the man shouting for him. But the shouts came from upstairs.

  Emmanuel was getting tired. He was hungry, and he also needed a drink. His heart was beating furiously, and he slumped against a stone post. He heard the man shout again, and this time the voice came from nearer.

  Emmanuel got up, and started running again.

  CHAPTER 54

  Harry was driving at breakneck speed, sirens blaring. Arla clasped the handle above the passenger side window, hanging on for dear life. The black BMW sliced through the traffic, and it wasn't long before they were on the M25. They zoomed down south till they joined the M20, the main motorway that connected the capital to the garden county of Kent, as it was known.

  "ETA 11:20 AM," Harry said, reading off his satnav.

  Arla unhooked the radio from her jacket. "We don't have enough time."

  "How will he get inside the castle though, if the entrance is blocked?"

  "The castle grounds are massive. I wouldn't be surprised if there are small openings that only a few people know about. Like Shirley."

  "She didn't mention anything."

  Arla said, "Maybe she couldn't remember all of it. If they went to Dover Castle, what are the chances they walked around the ramparts, and he asked her loads of questions?"

  Harry cocked his head to the left. "Quite high. It's the ideal place to go for a romantic walk, right?"

  "Exactly. And if there's any maintenance work going on in the walls, or there are some secret entrances that the public don't know about, you can be sure Charlie asked Shirley all about them."

  Arla spoke on the radio, and she was patched through to Kent police. An inspector called Donald Hargreaves took her call. Arla told him what she suspected. "We'll be in the castle in an hour's time," she said, glancing to words Harry who nodded his confirmation.

  "Can you please secure the area?"

  Inspector Hargreaves said, "The area is already secure DCI Baker. We checked all the cars going in and out of the castle premises."

  "What about the rear and sides? Do you know if there are other entrances?"

  There was silence for a few seconds, and static. Then Inspector Hargreaves voice came back. "I'm sending a patrol car to go around. If we find another entrance, we will investigate. I will keep you posted. Over."

  Arla smacked the radio down on her lap. "I'm telling you, there's another way inside," she said. She thought for a little while. It would be difficult for Charlie to get inside the castle with a five-year-old boy. Almost 6 actually, she thought, remembering his date of birth. He couldn't exactly carry Emmanuel all the time. And there had been no sightings in the Dover port. Arla knew there was a lot of illegal immigration at the Dover port. Immigrants paid human trafficking gangs’ money to get stashed on board the ferry in the luggage compartments, or into the back of lorries. But she also knew the Border Force scrutinised the trucks. Charlie and Emmanuel's photos were now everywhere. If they decided to get into the back of a lorry, chances were the driver would recognise them.

  She glanced at Harry. "Where have you been?" she asked quietly.

  He hooked an eyebrow at her, then transferred his attention back to the motorway. "Working. You know that."

  "It's been hard to get hold of you lately." She examined her nails. She didn't want Harry to know she couldn't live without him. But she missed the big oaf like crazy when he wasn't around.

  He didn't say anything for a while. A few miles slipped under the wheels, and Harry kept up the high speed. He was concentrating on the road. The M20 didn’t have much traffic, and they were speeding through a quiet stretch.

  "It's just been so busy gathering all the evidence for this case. The statements, CCTV images, getting the labs to work faster, you know the drill."

  It was her turn to be silent. Of course, she knew the drill. But Harry always told her where he was going. She never had to ask him. She had sensed this change after the marriage conversation came to an abrupt halt that night. Harry was different. Distant, in a subtle way. He was now trying to hide it, and she didn't like it. She always had a direct approach to things. It got her into trouble, but she didn't know any other way.

  "Is there something wrong?" She asked.

  Harry stared out the windscreen, not glancing at her. Arla said, "Wrong with us, I mean."

  Harry lowered his lips, and his shoulders rose. "No." Then he repeated himself. "No." Both remained silent for a while, then Harry exhaled. "Are you okay, Arla?"

  She massaged her temples with the palm of one hand. "I think I'm just tired."

  Harry nodded. "Getting almost burnt alive, then messing up your lungs, then travelling at 100 miles an hour on a wild goose chase will do that to you."

  "Not funny."

  "Well, I hope it's not a wild goose chase," Harry's voice became serious. "If he was at the caravan park, he must be planning to go across the English Channel somehow, right?"

  "Exactly. There caravan site manager saw his new passport as well. Why would you need a passport, if he wasn't planning on going to Europe?"

  “Yes.”

  “I’m worried about that little boy,” Arla said, concern washing over her in a black tidal wave. “Poor thing. I hope he’s okay.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Emmanuel thought his lungs would burst.

  He couldn't run any faster. To his right he saw another arched corridor opening up. He ran down it, then realised it was a dead end. From the other side, he heard his name being called again, and the sound of running footsteps. Emmanuel knew he was trapped. He tried all the doors in the hallway, and one of them had a little gate stuck on the door. It was like a flap, and Emmanuel was able to open it and crawl through. But he knew the man could do the same thing.

  It was dark inside, and it took him a few seconds to be able to see. He yelped in fright. A man wearing a mask was right in front of him. The man stood very still, and he was dressed in
shiny steel. The few rays of light that came in through the windows allowed Emmanuel to see. The man held a spear in his hand, and he stood on a wooden pedestal. After a while, Emmanuel realised the man was actually a statue.

  Then he saw several other similar figures, arranged in a row. There were all statues. There were all dressed in steel, and a kind of heavy chain. They had swords, spears and guns in their hands. The room had swords stuck on the wall, and it also had lots of cupboards where he found other weapons. Emmanuel was fascinated. He liked swords and fighting. Briefly, he wondered why Superman didn't have a sword. Or maybe he did, and he didn’t know about it.

  Emmanuel tiptoed across the room, afraid if he touched anything, it might fall over. That's what mummy had taught him. They went to the museum once, and he wanted to touch all the swords and spears, but mummy told him off.

  He froze when he heard the voice calling his name. It was just outside the door. Emmanuel went further inside the room, and hid behind a cupboard. The trap door opened and the man squeezed through. Emmanuel saw him, then quickly ducked behind the cupboard again. His heart beat faster. He was paralysed with fear, but knew he had to do something. He couldn't let the man catch him again.

  The man whispered his name, louder this time. "Emmanuel. I know you’re here. Don't try to hide. Come on now. Mummy and Daddy are waiting outside. Come on."

  The man kept talking, raising his voice. Emmanuel put his hands to his ears. He didn't want to hear. The man's footsteps came close, and Emmanuel knew he would soon be discovered. He had to move. On all fours, Emmanuel slid across the floor. He hid behind a statue, careful not to touch it. He could see the man's legs, up to his knees. The statue hid everything else. The man was moving round, calling his name. He came close to the statue, and then stopped. Emmanuel's heart beat faster.

  What could he do?

  The man was right in front of him. He was trapped. If he made a run for it now, the man would catch him.

  But if the man came any closer, surely, he would see him? All he had to do was look down, and he would see Emmanuel on the floor, hiding behind the statue.

  Emmanuel lifted himself on all fours again, and crawled to the next statue. As he did so, his foot rattled the armour on one of the statues. In the silence, the noise was loud.

  Emmanuel froze, then looked sideways. The man's feet were approaching the statue fast.

  "Emmanuel, are you there? Come on, don't be scared."

  The man came closer still, and then he halted abruptly just in front of the statue.

  "Ah, there you are."

  Emmanuel felt sick. He thought he was going to escape, but the bad man had caught up with him.

  He didn't want to go with the man.

  He wanted to run away.

  There was only one thing left for him to do.

  Emmanuel stood, and with all his strength he pushed at the statue. The statue wobbled, the sharp tip of the spear and the heavy armour tilting forward. Emmanuel took a few steps back and pushed the statue once again, as hard as he could. The heavily armoured figure was top-heavy, and it wasn't stable. A child could easily topple it over.

  It came crashing down, landing right on top of Charlie's head. There was a smashing sound, followed by loud noises as their helmets spear and sword tumbled to the floor. The man screamed loudly, and then went down in a heap, the armour and chainmail falling over him.

  Emmanuel didn't wait. He stood, and scampered for the door. He got out through the flap, and went out into the main hallway again. He wanted to scream for help, but there was no one to be seen. With a sinking heart, Emmanuel realised he might be lost here for ever. He ran around the corner, hoping he would see someone. But the place was empty.

  Feeling helpless, Emmanuel screamed for his mother. Then he started to cry. He kept running, because he didn’t know what else to do.

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed his neck, and he was yanked backwards. He turned round, and his eyes bulged in fear. The man looked horrible now, blood pouring down the right side of his face, and his right eye swollen and red. Emmanuel screamed, but the man clamped a hand over his mouth.

  CHAPTER 56

  Harry gunned the black BMW down the ring road that circled Dover. To his right, the hills dipped into a green valley, which gave way to the sparkling waters of the English Channel.

  A cluster of houses encircled the bay, then the sea undulated to the horizon.

  At any other time, it would be a beautiful sight. But Arla's mind was not on the scenery. Harry had turned the sirens on, but kept the sound low. Arla had the phone clutched to her ear as she spoke to Lisa back at the station. Lisa and Rosslyn had visited Caroline, and the family liaison officer was with her, giving the distraught girl support.

  Arla was pressed against the door as Harry took a turn at high speed. Through the windscreen she saw the medieval turrets of Dover Castle rising to the sky. The castle was on a hill that overlooked the bay. It was well maintained, and its dark brick and limestone walls were shining in the sun.

  Arla finished the call, and braced herself as Harry hit some traffic on Dover’s main street. Within minutes however, he was navigating the car up to the police checkpoint at the gates of the castle.

  A uniformed sergeant raised his hand and Harry pulled over on the grass verge. They both sprang out of the car, and ran to the sergeant. An inspector came up to them, and introduced himself. It was Donald Hargreaves. Arla and Harry shook hands, then they hurried inside the castle grounds.

  Arla stared up at the massive portcullis that rose to a dizzying height to the top of the castle walls. The great gate couldn't be moved, instead there was a small opening on the side. The shoes crunched gravel as they went through a walkway, with the castle opening up on either side. Ancient windows stared down at them, and the castle parapets ringed the blue sky above.

  Inspector Hargreaves said, "This is the outer court. There are three courts in total. The Royal residence is in the inner court, or circle as it's known."

  Harry had his phone out, scrolling through the map. "Where's the library?"

  "In the inner circle."

  They hurried through a selection of beautifully manicured courtyards, emerald green lawns placed in the middle, surrounded by castle wings. Eventually, they came to an elaborate and stylish walkway of arches and statues. The ground turned from stone to marble.

  Inspector Hargreaves said, "We are now in the royal court. The library is up there, on the second floor. Not far from the armoury." He turned to Harry. "Why do you want the library?"

  Arla explained as they went up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  Inspector Hargreaves shook his head. "We know the tunnels exist, but they are out of bounds for a reason. They are derelict, and prone to get flooded. It's not safe down there. Yes, they were active in the Second World War. Even up to the 1980s, they were used by the Navy. But for the last thirty years, no one’s been down there."

  They reached the second-floor hallway, and Arla felt she was in a palace, not a castle. The floor was white marble with natural, grey and blue streaks, and opulent rooms with magnificent carved doors appeared on her left. All the rooms were closed. To her right, the green courtyard was visible.

  Arla said, "That's precisely the reason why our suspect wants to use them. He thinks we won't find out."

  They arrived at the library, and everyone noticed the open window, with two glass panes missing. The door was shut, but a maintenance person had come up with them, and he took out a bunch of keys and unlocked all the padlocks. His name was Jacob.

  The two heavy bars were lifted with some effort by Harry and Jacob, who was easily in his 60s. Harry did most of the work. With a massive screeching sound, the heavy old doors opened up. They stepped inside the library. The heavy stone pillars and bookshelves were illuminated by shafts of sunlight streaming in through the open windows.

  Harry showed the maintenance guy his map. "We need to get to this bookshelf on the north-westerly corner."

 
Jacob raised bushy eyebrows. "Why that bookcase, sir?"

  Harry said, "Because we believe it's the secret entrance to the tunnel. Is that correct?"

  The maintenance man hesitated. His eyes flicked from Harry to Inspector Hargreaves and Arla. Arla said, "We have a suspect who might be making a getaway through the tunnels. If you know where the entrances, please show it to us. A child's life hangs in the balance."

  Jacob frowned. "I thought I heard a child's voice this morning. And also a man shouting. It came from this floor. But I thought I was mistaken." He pointed to his ears, which had tufts of hair growing out. "My hearings not what it used to be."

  Arla leaned forward, adrenaline shooting down her spine. "What time was that?"

  "Only recently, actually. Say about half an hour?"

  Arla tugged hard at the man's sleeve, surprising him. "Your hearing is perfect. We need to find that boy. Please show us where the bookshelf is."

  CHAPTER 57

  Arla stared at the floor to ceiling bookcase. The entire wall was taken up by the bookcase, and it was no different to the surrounding shelves in the library. They were at a corner, and all the dusty leather-bound tomes looked the same to her. Jacob coughed into his fist.

  "It's volume 15 of the encyclopaedia Britannica." His fingers skimmed across a series of books at his eye level. He stopped, and started again, squinting closely. Harry found it first.

  "Here it is!" he exclaimed. "What shall I do?"

  Jacob said, "Just push it."

  Harry used his fingers because the heel of his palm was too wide. The book didn't budge, and he had to press harder, grimacing. The book slid back suddenly. A black space appeared, enough to reach inside.