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

by Trevor Negus

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you for listening.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll let you know what I decide to do later today, okay?’

  She stood up. ‘Thanks, Mr Dawson.’

  She closed the door on her way out, leaving Sebastien Dawson with a huge headache. Difficult questions raced into his mind.

  Should he involve the police?

  What would be the fallout from the head of chambers if the police spoke to one of the firm’s brightest young barristers about the disappearance of the daughter of one of the chambers’ other barristers?

  What would happen if Freddie Fletcher were involved in the young girl’s disappearance?

  He sat quietly in his office for well over an hour, mulling over all the pros and cons, before finally making his decision.

  He reached across his desk and picked up the telephone.

  When the phone was answered, he said, ‘I’d like to speak to Detective Inspector Rob Buxton at the Major Crime Investigation Unit, please.’

  62

  10.30am, 16 October 1986

  Nottingham

  He was coming.

  Emily could hear the man’s footsteps before she saw the flash of torchlight in the tunnel that led to the cave she was in. She focussed on the light at the mouth of the cave, and finally, she saw his boots and legs.

  The man lowered himself down into the cave. Instinctively, she moved back as far as she could.

  He picked up the half-full bucket and replaced it with a clean one. He turned and placed the dirty bucket back out into the tunnel, ready to take it away when he left.

  Without saying a word, he then placed a pack of tuna and mayonnaise sandwiches, an apple and a litre bottle of water on the plastic sheeting next to her.

  She pleaded, ‘How long are you going to keep me here like this?’

  No response.

  ‘Why are you doing this to me? Please, you’ve got to let me go.’

  Nothing.

  She started to sob.

  Suddenly, the man spoke to her. ‘Have you heard any more rats?’

  Emily was shocked at hearing his voice. She spluttered, ‘Yes. Big ones. They’re getting bolder all the time. I woke up with one on my legs. It felt huge.’

  From his pocket, the man took out a pencil-sized Mini Maglite torch and placed it on the sheeting.

  ‘The light from the torch is very bright; it will scare them away. Don’t keep it on all the time. When the batteries are dead, they’re dead. You won’t be getting any more. Understood?’

  She couldn’t believe he was speaking to her. She nodded her head and said quickly, ‘I understand. How long are you going to keep me here?’

  He growled his response. ‘As long as I have to. There are people who need to learn what loss feels like. You won’t be here forever. Just do what I tell you when I tell you, and everything will be fine.’

  She started to say something in response, but the man barked, ‘No more questions!’

  She could detect the fury in his voice. As desperate as she was for conversation, she decided to remain silent and not antagonise the man further.

  He then shone the torch above his head, as though inspecting the roof above her.

  He said quietly, ‘You must be silent down here. No loud noises. No screaming if you see the rats. There has been a lot of wet weather, and it’s still raining heavily. The roof and the walls are very wet now. You must be very quiet and still.’

  Emily was terrified. ‘Please don’t leave me here to die! I’m begging you!’

  ‘Do as you’re told. Just sit quietly. I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  He climbed up and out of the cave without another word.

  She saw his torchlight disappearing along the main tunnel and waited until she was sitting in complete darkness again.

  After a long wait, she grabbed the Mini Maglite torch and switched it on. For such a small torch, it produced a bright, powerful beam.

  She shone the torch above her head to illuminate the entire cave. For the first time, she got a good look at her surroundings. She inspected the ropes and the stake she was secured to. Very quickly, she realised there was no way she could escape. The walls and the roof were glistening and extremely wet. The cave had been hollowed out of sandstone rock and looked man-made. She could clearly see individual tool marks on the walls.

  She wondered exactly where she was.

  She picked up the packet of sandwiches and flicked the torch off. She ate the tuna sandwiches in the dark, savouring every mouthful. It was amazing how much better food tasted now that she was starving.

  It was essential to save the batteries of the torch. She knew the rats would soon smell the food and come scurrying along the tunnel.

  As frightening as it had been listening to them in the dark, Emily was equally terrified about seeing the vermin for the first time.

  She mouthed a silent prayer that the light from the torch would scare them off.

  63

  11.00am, 16 October 1986

  MCIU Offices, Mansfield, Nottinghamshire

  Danny sat alone in his office. He was using this quiet time to evaluate everything he knew so far. It was something he did on a regular basis. Going over everything that had happened during the enquiry. Desperately seeking something he might have missed, something that would unlock the mystery of the missing girl.

  There was a knock on the door, shattering his thought process. Slightly annoyed, he shouted, ‘Come in!’

  Brian Hopkirk walked into the office. ‘Sorry to disturb you, boss. I’ve got an idea I want to run by you.’

  Danny placed his pen on the notebook in front of him and said, ‘Grab a seat, Brian. What’s on your mind?’

  Brian said, ‘Before we found Theresa Stanhope, you told me that you wanted me to investigate the missing person side of things rather than the kidnap angle. Does that still hold?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve got an idea that I want to follow up. The problem is, it’s not really based on anything other than a hunch.’

  ‘Tell you what. Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?’

  ‘Okay. After the ransom drop went all pear-shaped the other night, I was chatting to two of the Special Operations Unit officers who had spent days hidden in the cemetery. They had used the catacombs and natural caves to remain hidden throughout the time they were in there. It just got me thinking about those catacombs. Emily Whitchurch disappeared somewhere between Nottingham High School for Girls and Alpha Terrace. We’re all agreed that the most likely site for her abduction was somewhere along Forest Road East, correct?’

  Danny nodded. ‘It seems the most likely.’

  ‘What if the girl was never taken from Forest Road East? What if she’s being held somewhere nearby?’

  Danny could see what the experienced detective inspector was thinking. ‘So your theory is that the girl has been hidden somewhere in the catacombs?’

  ‘I know it sounds mad, but we haven’t been able to find a single witness anywhere. It’s as if that girl literally vanished into thin air.’

  ‘So what are you proposing?’

  ‘I want to make some enquiries into the possibility of her being snatched off the street and immediately hidden in one of the nearby catacombs along Forest Road East.’

  ‘We can’t search that entire area. It’s impossible.’

  ‘I appreciate that, boss. I know the catacombs and natural caves are extensive. To be honest, I wouldn’t know where to start looking.’

  ‘I sense a “but” coming.’

  Brian grinned. ‘But I know someone who will have all that information. I’ve done a little research into the feasibility of my theory. There’s a guy called Brandon Temple, who’s the Professor of Geology at Nottingham Trent University. He’s currently researching all the caves beneath the city, with a view to compiling a definitive map of the entire system.’

  Danny thought for a second, then said, ‘Run with your idea. We’ve got nothi
ng to lose. Take Rachel and go and see Professor Temple. Keep me informed, and don’t spend days on it. If it’s not feasible, you’ll know quickly. I don’t want you and Rachel chasing shadows, okay?’

  ‘Thanks, boss.’

  Danny picked up his pen again. He loved the way his team were always thinking outside the box.

  He had read two more lines of notes when there was another, far more urgent knock on the door.

  Rob Buxton walked in and said, ‘The television appeal that was aired last night and this morning has turned something up. I thought you’d want to hear it.’

  Danny sat back in his chair. ‘Go on.’

  Rob said, ‘I’ve just taken a call from Sebastien Dawson at Mulberry Chambers. He’s been approached by one of his secretarial staff this morning, who has concerns about one of the barristers at chambers. Apparently, this woman was with the barrister when he made some rather strange remarks about the disappearance of Emily Whitchurch.’

  ‘Who’s the barrister?’

  ‘His name’s Freddie Fletcher.’

  ‘What sort of remarks?’

  ‘Something along the lines of “the longer Emily Whitchurch stays hidden, the better”. It’s the use of the word “hidden” instead of “missing” that has raised alarm bells.’

  ‘Where’s Fletcher now?’

  ‘Freddie Fletcher is currently in Manchester. He replaced Rebecca Whitchurch as defence counsel in the Denton Post Office robbery trial.’

  Danny said, ‘So, we’ve got very disparaging and strange remarks being made by one of Rebecca Whitchurch’s colleagues. That same colleague then gains massively by the disappearance of Rebecca’s daughter, when he replaces her as counsel for the defence at Manchester Crown Court.’

  ‘That’s it in a nutshell.’

  ‘Take DC Lorimar and go talk to Sebastien Dawson and the secretary who reported the remarks. Get them both fully statemented, then drive up to Manchester. I want you to have a serious conversation with Freddie Fletcher tonight. I want you to establish exactly what he meant by those remarks.’

  ‘Is he now a suspect?’

  ‘Everyone’s a suspect. Let’s treat this enquiry as a trace, interview, eliminate situation to start with. See what Fletcher’s like. If he’s co-operating, then fine. If he doesn’t want to be reasonable, you’ll have a judgement call to make about whether you feel you’ve got enough to arrest him. From what I’ve heard so far, that would be pushing it. You’ll know better what evidence you’ve got after you’ve spoken to Dawson and the secretary.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I don’t care what the time is when you get up to Manchester. I want to be kept informed, okay?’

  Rob nodded and left.

  Before Danny even had the chance to look at his notes, there was another knock on the door.

  In exasperation, Danny shouted, ‘Come in!’

  Detective Sergeant Andy Wills walked into the office and said, ‘I’ve just come back from the Magistrates Court. They’ve granted a warrant under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act to search Sam Jamieson’s home address for evidence of a serious arrestable offence.’

  Danny grabbed his jacket from the back of his seat. ‘That’s great. Let’s go.’

  64

  5.00pm, 16 October 1986

  Foxhall Road, Forest Fields, Nottingham

  The briefing at the MCIU offices had been short but very detailed.

  There had been four other detectives working in the main office when Danny had emerged from his office with Andy Wills.

  Ordinarily, the MCIU would have utilised the services of the Special Operations Unit to execute a search warrant. There was no time for that; this needed to be done urgently.

  Together with his detective sergeant, Danny had briefed DC Simon Paine, DC Fran Jefferies, DC Phil Baxter and DC Martin Harper on the detail of the premises and what they would be searching for.

  Andy Wills had earlier made enquiries with Nottingham Trent University. He had established that Sam Jamieson was working from home today. That meant there was a good chance their suspect would be at the one-bedroomed flat when they executed the warrant.

  Danny had made a judgement call that six detectives would be enough to carry out a detailed search of the premises and to successfully detain Jamieson, if necessary.

  Now, as he sat with Andy Wills on the street in the CID car and listened to the rain battering onto the roof of the car, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. The rain made him think of the ransom drop and of the debacle that had ensued.

  It was now or never.

  He reached onto the dashboard of the car and picked up his radio. ‘DCI Flint to DC Baxter and DC Harper: Are you in position at the rear of the premises?’

  DC Baxter replied, ‘Yes, boss. We’re in the alleyway directly behind number thirty-four. We can see the target flat. There’s a light on inside.’

  ‘Okay. Stand by. I’ll give you the word when we’re going in.’

  Danny then continued: ‘DC Paine, DC Jefferies, are you ready?’

  DC Paine said, ‘Ready. I’ve got the door opener.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s move.’

  Danny and Andy got out of the car and walked across the street to the target premises. The research Andy had carried out in order to obtain the search warrant meant that he was aware that the front door of the property was always left unlocked. Once inside that door, there were two ground-floor flats and three more flats upstairs.

  Sam Jamieson was renting Flat 3. This flat was on the first floor of the premises, up one flight of stairs. The door was on the right of the landing.

  After walking in through the unlocked front door, followed closely by Simon Paine and Fran Jefferies, Danny said, ‘Me and Andy will knock on the door first. Hopefully, it will be answered, and we won’t need the sledgehammer to get in. I want you two to stay down here until we call you up.’

  The two detectives nodded, just glad that they were waiting in the hallway and not standing outside at the rear of the property, getting soaked by the heavy rain.

  Danny and Andy walked up the stairs and quickly located the door to Flat 3. There was a light shining from below the door.

  Danny pointed to it and whispered, ‘Looks like he’s home.’

  Andy nodded.

  Danny knocked loudly on the door with the balled-up fist of his right hand, shouting, ‘Police! Open the door!’

  65

  5.05pm, 16 October 1986

  Foxhall Road, Forest Fields, Nottingham

  Inside the flat, Sam Jamieson had been sitting on the settee in the lounge, reading a magazine. Hearing the knock and the shout, he instantly looked at the pinboard. It was covered in photographs of Crown Court buildings, various prisons and the interiors of cells. There were two photos that he needed to destroy before allowing the police to enter his flat.

  The first was a photograph of the Whitchurch family, including Emily, standing outside Debenhams on Long Row. The second photograph was of Rebecca Whitchurch, in her robes at Crown Court.

  Sam had seen the press appeals that had been put out about the missing schoolgirl, so he knew that the photograph of Emily could be incriminating. He also knew that taking photos within the confines of any Crown Court building was illegal. The photograph of Rebecca in her robes had been taken as she emerged from court number one at Nottingham Crown Court.

  Both the photographs had been taken without the knowledge of the subjects.

  He ripped the two incriminating photos from the pinboard and shouted, ‘I’m coming. Just a minute!’

  He heard more loud knocking, accompanied by threats from the police outside that unless he opened the door, they would smash it down.

  Ignoring the shouts, Sam used his lighter to burn the two photos. He dropped the blackened remains into the sink in the tiny kitchenette. Turned on the tap and flushed the burned scraps down the plughole. There was a slight smell of burning, but it wasn’t too bad.

  He walked calmly to the front do
or, shouting, ‘I’m coming!’

  He pulled back the two deadbolts before unlocking the Yale lock.

  As he opened the door, he could see two detectives standing in the hallway. He said, ‘What’s this all about, Detectives?’

  66

  5.10pm, 16 October 1986

  Foxhall Road, Forest Fields, Nottingham

  Danny said, ‘Sam Jamieson? We’ve got a warrant to search these premises.’

  ‘I’m Sam Jamieson, but there must be some mistake. I’ve never used drugs in my life. Please come inside. I don’t want my neighbours to hear all this shit. I haven’t been here long. I don’t want that lot tittle-tattling to the landlord.’

  Andy signalled for Simon and Fran to join them inside the flat; then he spoke into the radio, saying, ‘Phil, Martin, we’re inside the flat. Come back round to the front and wait inside the main entrance.’

  The soaked detectives at the rear of the property said gratefully, ‘Received, Sarge. On our way.’

  Danny followed Sam into the lounge of the flat and said, ‘Is something burning?’

  Sam smiled. ‘I’m a lousy cook. I put a pizza in the oven a little while ago and forgot to take off the plastic wrapper. It stunk the flat out. Who are you, and what’s this all about? Like I said before, I don’t touch drugs. I don’t understand why you’ve got a warrant to search my flat.’

  Danny said, ‘My name’s Detective Chief Inspector Flint. I’m from the Major Crime Investigation Unit. We’re not here under a Misuse of Drugs Act warrant. We’re making enquiries into the disappearance of Emily Whitchurch, and we have reason to believe that you may be involved. I have a warrant issued by magistrates, under the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, to search for evidence linked to her abduction.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. I know I’ve spent time in prison, but I’m a reformed character. I’m living here now because I’m studying for a master’s degree at university, and it’s easier to get to the university every day. I’m done with all that shit from the past. It’s exactly that – the past.’