Taken to Die: A chilling crime thriller (DCI Danny Flint Book 4)

by Trevor Negus

  She had, on a few occasions, seen glimpses of his criminal ways. With no explanation from Florin, strange property would suddenly appear in his flat. Then, just as quickly, it would disappear. She also noticed that money always seemed to be an issue for him. Some days he would be rich and spend freely, and other times he would complain that he had no money at all.

  He had no job that she knew of, and she often wondered where his money came from.

  She wondered, but she never asked.

  Florin could be very moody and aggressive. He would shout and lose his temper quickly, but he had never laid a finger on her. The reason for this was because Alina had made it clear to him, from the start of their relationship, that she wouldn’t tolerate any type of physical abuse.

  As though mirroring her own mood, he was being especially distant and moody today.

  Alina made the decision to tell him about the girl anyway.

  She blurted out, ‘The brat’s missing.’

  He looked disinterested, but asked, ‘What do you mean, Alina? Who is missing?’

  ‘Emily. The little brat I look after. She didn’t arrive home from school two days ago and hasn’t been seen since. Now the police are involved. They even questioned me the other day. Their questions made me feel awful, and Mrs Whitchurch keeps giving me strange looks.’

  Florin quickly became indignant. ‘Why were you questioned by the police? It’s not your fault she’s missing, is it?’

  ‘No, of course it’s not my fault. When I left you the other day, I went straight to the road where I meet her. I was there in plenty of time, but she never showed up. I went to the school to find her, but she’d already left.’

  Florin sat down beside her on the settee. He put his arm around her shoulders, stroked her damp hair and said, ‘I don’t care about the stupid brat. Her parents have more money than sense. Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable so I can take your mind off things?’

  He leaned in and kissed her neck, just below her ear.

  She wasn’t really in the mood for his amorous advances; she felt too worried and upset. Initially, she pushed him away, but he just smiled at her and began kissing her neck again.

  Eventually, she stopped resisting and kissed him back.

  When they finally stopped kissing, he stared at her and said, ‘Come. Let’s go to bed. You need to forget about this silly girl. She’s not your problem. I’m sure she’ll turn up soon enough. Don’t worry.’

  Looking into Florin’s beautiful, brown eyes, Alina quickly forgot all about Emily Whitchurch. Smiling, she followed him into the bedroom.

  17

  11.30am, 4 October 1986

  MCIU Offices, Mansfield Police Station, Nottinghamshire

  Danny Flint sat alone in his office; he was deep in thought. He hadn’t moved from his desk since he’d arrived at work that morning.

  He felt consumed by a feeling of dread at what the immediate future held, for both him and the Major Crime Investigation Unit.

  It was now official.

  It had been announced earlier in the day that a new chief constable had been appointed by the police authority. Unsurprisingly, the person chosen for the role was Jack Renshaw. He had previously held the rank of deputy chief constable.

  It was a logical appointment. One that spelt continuity for the Nottinghamshire force. The knowledge of that continuity didn’t ease the gnawing anxiety now felt by Danny.

  Suddenly, he was torn from his thoughts by the strident ringing of the telephone on his desk.

  Danny snatched up the telephone. ‘Major Crime Unit, Detective Chief Inspector Flint speaking.’

  ‘Danny, I’m pleased you’re in the office. It’s Jack Renshaw.’

  As soon as he had heard the distinctive accent, Danny had known instantly who it was. He took a moment, then said, ‘Good morning, sir. Congratulations on your appointment.’

  ‘Thanks. Obviously, I’ve got to hit the ground running, so I’m trying to speak to the heads of each department. I want to see for myself their current workloads. I need to be aware of what resources they have and what they may need, that sort of thing. I already have a good idea of what your department are currently involved with. I was still hoping to pencil in a meeting with you on the eighth of this month if that suits you as well?’

  Danny already knew that he had no prior commitments in four days’ time, but he allowed a brief pause before he said, ‘My diary’s clear at the moment, sir.’

  ‘Excellent. Shall we say ten o’clock on the morning of the eighth? Here at headquarters?’

  ‘That’s fine, sir.’

  ‘As I said, I’ve already got a good idea of your current workload, Danny. Just bring with you an up-to-date résumé of the cases the MCIU are currently working on. I’ll need to know your capabilities for any new cases that may come in, as well as staff numbers. That would all be very helpful. Thanks.’

  ‘No problem, sir. See you on the eighth.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The line went dead.

  Danny sat quietly; he twirled his pen between his fingers as questions raced through his mind. What changes will be made? He didn’t mention anything about my planned promotion. Is that even still on the table?

  Danny had always enjoyed a good working relationship with Jack Renshaw when he’d been the deputy. The uncertainty of change made him feel nauseous.

  He suddenly felt the need for some fresh air.

  Grabbing his raincoat, he stepped out of the office and said to his office manager, ‘Fran, I’m popping out for ten minutes. I need some air; won’t be long.’

  Fran said, ‘Better take your umbrella. It’s chucking it down out there.’

  Danny smiled and nodded, but his mind was already elsewhere.

  18

  10.30am, 5 October 1986

  Richmond Drive, Mapperley Park, Nottinghamshire

  Three days had passed since Emily Whitchurch had failed to arrive home from school. Her mother, Rebecca, was going out of her mind with worry. The telephone call she had received the night before had disturbed her greatly. It had been quite late when Jacquie Garrett called.

  Rebecca had known Jacquie for three years; her daughter Polly was probably Emily’s best friend at the Nottingham High School for Girls.

  Rebecca had always thought that something about the narrative given by her au pair hadn’t been right. The late-night telephone call from Jacquie Garrett had confirmed those instincts.

  She planned to confront Alina as soon as she arrived back at the house this morning. The young au pair had stayed out all night again, something else Rebecca wasn’t happy about.

  Before Alina arrived home, Rebecca needed to make a telephone call of her own. She picked up the phone in the lounge and dialled the number from memory.

  The telephone at Mulberry Chambers was answered on the second ring by one of the secretaries on the reception desk.

  Rebecca said tersely, ‘It’s Rebecca Whitchurch. Put me through to Sebastien Dawson.’

  The call was put through instantly. The next voice she heard was Sebastien Dawson. In his usual lisping, clipped tones, he said, ‘Good morning, Rebecca. How are you bearing up?’

  ‘It’s a complete bloody nightmare. There’s no way I can even consider travelling up to Manchester for the robbery trial. I’m sorry.’

  ‘To be perfectly honest, Rebecca, I was going to call you this morning and suggest we put someone else in. It would be impossible for you to concentrate on the intricacies of a robbery trial under these circumstances. I really don’t know how Dominic’s going to cope with the impending rape trial at Leicester Crown Court.’

  ‘Dominic will be fine. We both know he’s got a swinging brick where his heart should be. We’ve already had words about his misguided priorities this morning before he left for work. Personally, I don’t think he should be going to Leicester or anywhere else until we’ve got Emily back safe and sound. He obviously has other ideas.’

  She let out an ironic chuckle
, and with sarcasm heavy in her voice, she said, ‘But then again, I don’t suppose he has my maternal instincts, does he?’

  Sebastien Dawson was far too experienced and wily to get drawn into the complexities of the relationship between a man and wife. With no emotion or inflection in his voice, he said simply, ‘Don’t worry about work. You’ve enough on your plate already. I’ll arrange for another barrister to take on the Manchester brief. I’ll probably give it to Freddie Fletcher. He is desperate for a good, high-profile case, to really cut his teeth.’

  ‘Seb, I really don’t care who you give it to. Talk to you soon.’

  Rebecca slammed the telephone down; she was angry at having to give away such a high-profile trial.

  Where was that bloody au pair? It was now almost a quarter to eleven. The wretched girl should have been here, ready to start work, at ten o’clock.

  Just then, she heard the key turn in the lock of the front door and heard footsteps in the hallway. From the lounge, Rebecca shouted, ‘Alina, come in here for a minute, please!’

  The young Romanian looked flustered as she walked into the lounge. She hadn’t been expecting this. She knew her employer didn’t like her to be out all night, but it wasn’t like she stayed out all the time.

  Alina saw the angry expression on Rebecca’s face and said, ‘I’m sorry for being late back this morning, Mrs Whitchurch. I didn’t hear the alarm go off at Florin’s flat.’

  Rebecca stood up and said angrily, ‘I really don’t give a toss about Florin or his bloody alarm clock in his stupid flat! Young lady, you’ve got some questions to answer, and I want the bloody truth this time!’

  A stunned Alina grew red in the face and said, ‘I don’t understand? What questions?’

  With her voice raised higher than normal, Rebecca asked, ‘Where did you wait to pick up Emily?’

  ‘Outside the school gates, as always. Why?’

  ‘As always? Really? Why are you bloody lying to me?’

  Alina could feel her face reddening more and more by the second.

  She blustered, ‘I’m not lying, Mrs Whitchurch. I met Emily at the same place every day after school.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you did. But it wasn’t outside the bloody school gates, was it? Before you say anything else – any other lies – you need to know that I’ve been speaking to Polly’s mother.’

  Alina knew, at that exact moment, that her employer already knew everything.

  She could feel tears starting to sting her eyes as she blurted out, ‘Emily didn’t like me waiting right outside the school for her. She was ashamed of my car. She ordered me to wait for her a few streets away. I didn’t think it would be a problem, because she always walked to the car with Polly and Rosie.’

  ‘And now what do you think? Do you think it’s a problem now? You stupid girl!’

  Alina could no longer fight back the tears. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen. It’s not my fault.’

  ‘I told you to meet my daughter outside the school gates for a reason. Emily’s only fourteen years old, for Christ’s sake. Why did you let her dictate to you where you should pick her up?’

  Suddenly, Alina could feel herself becoming angry. How dare this woman take it out on her because she was a bad parent? She rounded on Rebecca, pointed an accusing index finger at her and shouted, ‘Because your beloved daughter’s a nasty little bitch! She’s rude and aggressive; that’s why she has no real friends. You should try being her parents instead of big-shot lawyers for a change!’

  Rebecca was outraged. She wasn’t having the hired help talk to her like that. She shouted back, ‘Pack your bags! You’re fired! Give me your door keys and get out. I’ll forward any money we owe you to the agency. Get out of my sight, you wretched girl!’

  Alina ran from the lounge and up the stairs, to her room.

  Immediately, she began throwing her clothes and belongings into two large suitcases. She was upset about losing her job, but also, in some ways, relieved. She wouldn’t have to tiptoe around the brat any longer. As she packed, she thought, Who cares where the stupid girl is? Whatever happened to her, it would serve her right. It would also serve her arrogant, selfish parents right as well.

  Having packed her bags, she stomped, heavy-footed, back down the stairs. In a fit of temper, she threw her set of door keys on the small table in the hallway and slammed the front door behind her.

  She didn’t see or hear Rebecca Whitchurch sobbing quietly in the lounge. Even if she had, right at that moment, she wouldn’t have cared.

  19

  11.30am, 5 October 1986

  Mulberry Chambers, The Ropewalk, Nottingham

  Angela Temple knocked lightly on Dominic Whitchurch’s office door. Without waiting for an invitation, she walked in.

  Dominic was sitting at his desk, sifting through reams of statements and documents. He looked up, removed his reading glasses and smiled. ‘Where have you been, sweetheart? I’ve been waiting for you to arrive all morning.’

  She smiled back and said, ‘The traffic was horrendous. There’s been a nasty accident on Mansfield Road. The tailbacks it caused went right back through Sherwood. It’s this bloody incessant rain. It doesn’t look like stopping anytime soon.’

  He stood and walked round his desk, to help her remove her wet raincoat. As he took the coat from her shoulders, he leaned in and kissed her neck. She said, ‘Stop it, Dom. We’ve got too much work to do. We’ll have plenty of time for that when we get down to Leicester tomorrow. Right now, we need to prep for this trial.’

  He laughed as he hung her damp coat on the coat stand. ‘There certainly will. I’ve booked us two double rooms at the Belmont Hotel on Winterburn Street. It’s beautiful there and only a short walk to the Crown Court building.’

  She winked at him and said seductively, ‘Which one of the two rooms will we be using?’

  He laughed. ‘I think we should christen them both, don’t you?’

  ‘That sounds like a wonderful plan,’ she purred.

  Suddenly, she looked serious and said, ‘Are you sure you still want to go? All this business with your daughter, it’s bound to affect you. Are you going to be okay?’

  ‘Everything will be fine. Rebecca’s going to stay at home now.’

  ‘What? I don’t believe she’s turned down the Manchester brief.’

  ‘She contacted Sebastien this morning and told him to put someone else in. She wanted me to cancel my commitment in Leicester as well. I told her straight, not a chance.’

  ‘Are you sure, Dom?’

  He put his arms around her slim waist and pulled her in close. Feeling her breasts against his chest, he kissed her full lips. When they finally stopped kissing, he looked into her sultry brown eyes and said, ‘I’m one hundred percent sure. It’s only a matter of time before the police find Emily. There’s absolutely no point in me waiting around at home. I know exactly where I’d rather be, and that’s lying next to you in a warm bed.’

  They kissed again.

  This time, it was Angela who stopped first. She said, ‘Dom, we really do need to start work, or we won’t stand a chance of winning this trial.’

  ‘You’re right. I’ll phone down to the girls on reception and arrange for coffee and sandwiches to be brought up. That way, we can work through. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘Perfect. The more work we do here, the more time we’ll have for play in the Belmont Hotel.’

  20

  7.30pm, 5 October 1986

  Nottingham

  The young girl thought she had been held captive in the attic for two days and two nights. There was a tiny gap between the rafters and the wall in one corner, which allowed a splinter of light in during the daytime. She had focussed on that small shaft of light to try to stay sane.

  She was starving hungry, and her throat felt parched and dry. She desperately needed food and water. Only once had she used the bowl the monster had left her. Her stomach had ached before she succumbed to the indignity of urin
ating into the bowl. Afterwards, she wondered why she had waited so long. The relief she had felt, emptying her full bladder, had been wonderful.

  She knew the monster would be returning soon.

  Like last time, he would have food and water with him. As desperate as she was for something to eat and drink, she knew she would fight him off again. There was no way she was going to allow him to take her without a fight.

  Sitting in the darkness, she had asked herself the same questions repeatedly. How long could she continue to fight him off? How long would it be before she caved in to her body’s need for sustenance and allowed him to do what he wanted to do?

  Maybe she could allow him to do certain things, which didn’t amount to full sex, in exchange for food and drink?

  After hours of soul-searching, she had made up her mind. When the monster came, she would stay strong and put her own proposition to him.

  It must be night-time now. There was no light shining through the small crack. In the distance, she heard a familiar noise that filled her with dread. Stairs were creaking somewhere else in the old house.

  He was on his way.

  The noise of the padlock being removed and the bolt being drawn back on the door seemed amplified in the darkness.

  Suddenly, the door opened, and light streamed into the dark room. He was wearing the same terrifying mask. She could clearly see saliva glistening on his fat lips as his tongue darted between them.