by Lesley Kelly
8
The protocol relating to HET/Police interaction was a delicate and ever-changing minefield. Every time the Team thought they were clear on when the HET was required to refer their activities to the Police, and vice versa, a new memo clarifying the situation would appear in the Guv’s in tray, setting back their understanding each time. However, Mona was forced to admit, a teenager with a crate of drugs and an irate dealer looking for her, merited a word or two with the local Force. Likewise, she’d gone far enough with Amanda without involving some of her local colleagues. Although on that front, at least, things were about to change. Amanda had whispered to her on the phone that she had already called 999. Mona had told her to stay hidden, and that she was on her way.
She stuck out her hand and hailed a taxi. The black cab driver caught sight of her and did a U-turn. She clambered in, giving Amanda’s address, then sat back on the black leather to consider what to do. The questions were, when and how to make the call. It should come from the Guv, which would involve a long conversation, quite a lot of shouting, and a fatal delay in them getting up to Dunblane. Mona held her mobile in her hand, debating who to call first. She opted for Bernard.
‘Kevin is at Amanda’s.’
She waited while Bernard absorbed this information.
‘So, should I meet you there?’
She closed her eyes. ‘No. You need to go to Dunblane.’ Bernard could be halfway there before she phoned. She’d sort Amanda out, phone the Guv, and deal with the flak, hopefully getting over to Dunblane for some of the action herself.
‘So I just set off, with no idea why I’m going or where Heidi might be?’
‘No, you set off, find the local Police Station and wait there. I’ll square things with the Guv and let you know what’s happening.’
He didn’t sound convinced. Mona had some sympathy with his doubts. She had a moment’s reconsideration about setting off for Dunblane herself, but she wanted to check the emergency call had gone through OK. A vision of Amanda’s bruised face swam into her mind.
‘Phone Toller en route. Ask him to contact Herr Weber – he might know why Heidi would head there.’
‘And if I do manage to find where she’s staying what do I do then?’
‘You phone me. I’ll be half an hour behind you on the motorway.’
‘Mona?’
‘What?’
‘You can’t just head off to Amanda’s on your own – Kevin is dangerous.’
‘I won’t be on my own. She’s called 999.’ The taxi pulled up in Amanda’s street. She shoved a ten pound note in the direction of the driver, and stepped out into the street. There was no sign of any Police cars. She checked her watch. Surely the emergency call should have been answered by now? She walked swiftly to the corner of the street and had a scout around to see if there was any sign of a response car on one of the streets nearby, but saw nothing. She pulled her sleeve back, checking her watch for a second time, and jogged slowly toward Amanda’s flat. As she approached, the door opened, and a middle-aged woman appeared. She kept up her pace, and held the door as the woman exited, giving her a polite smile as she did so. The woman gave her a sideways glance, but didn’t challenge her, and she slipped into the lobby.
Mona made her way up the stairs, her back sliding along the polished tiles of the wall, alert and braced for action. The flat’s door was slightly ajar; she flicked it open with a finger and peered in. The lights were off, and she stood on the doorstep listening for signs of life. Edging her way into the gloom, she winced at the creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. Her toe caught the edge of the bookcase, jolting one of the ornaments on the top. The tiny china bell spun round in a delicate arch before it plunged off the side, smashing onto the wooden floor. At the sound, a door flew open and a figure ran full tilt at her.
‘Thank God,’ said Amanda, clinging to her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Kevin?’
‘He’s gone. I don’t think he realised I was here.’
‘And you’re OK?’Mona could feel Amanda’s head nod against her shoulder. Relief flooded over her, and she gently pushed her away.
‘Did you come on your own?’ Amanda asked.
‘Yes – are the Police here yet?’
‘Not yet.’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t really know what to say to them though. I don’t think I made it clear what an emergency it was.’
‘What did Kevin want, anyway?’
‘Just to pick up his stuff.’
‘I thought he’d already taken his stuff?’
There was a pause. ‘Yeah, he took his bag already, but then he came back looking for something. Look.’ Amanda walked back past Mona and pushed the door to her room open. Mona stuck her head round. There were clothes everywhere, and every drawer was opened.
‘He searched my room. I don’t know what he was after.’
‘Is it OK if I take a look?’
‘Sure.’ She stood watching Mona, moving from foot to foot. Her nerves were showing and Mona rooted around for a task to focus her mind.
‘Why don’t you make us a coffee?’
She nodded, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Mona picked through the debris of the room, trying to work out what Kevin had been looking for. How much did he know about Heidi’s departure? A thought occurred to Mona.
‘Amanda?’ she reopened the door and shouted through to the kitchen.
‘Yes?’ She could hear her clattering around.
‘Has Heidi ever mentioned a place called Dunblane to you?’
The clattering from the kitchen stopped. ‘No – is that where you think Kevin was heading?’
‘Possibly.’
At the end of the bed, half-hidden by a duvet, lay a suitcase. Mona looked back toward the door to check that Amanda wasn’t there, then opened the lid. A selection of T-shirts and jeans were shoved into the case, weighed down by a pair of green hi-tops. Was Amanda going somewhere? And if so, why hadn’t she mentioned it? The cupboard door in the corner of the room remained shut. Mona opened it as quietly as she could. The hangers were empty; she assumed the clothes that had been in there were now in the suitcase. Her eyes drifted to the floor. A blue holdall was lying on the floor, one very much like the bag that Kevin had left in the flat. The bag that Amanda, not five minutes earlier, had said was gone.
‘So, why do you think Kevin’s gone to Dunblane?’ Amanda’s voice echoed from the kitchen.
Mona got back to her feet. ‘We’re not sure that he has,’ she lied, and reached into her pocket for her phone. ‘It’s just one possible lead.’
‘Well, thanks for the heads-up,’ said a voice emanating from behind Mona’s right ear.
A man’s voice.
Bernard dialled Toller’s number for the third time. On his two previous attempts it had rung without anyone picking it up, then cut out. This time, however, a voice answered.
‘Toller here.’
‘Doctor Toller, we think Heidi has gone to Dunblane.’ There was a brief pause at the other end of the line. ‘It’s Bernard from the HET by the way.’
‘Yes, Bernard, I recognise your voice. Dunblane, you say?’
He swerved to avoid a parked car. He hated speaking on the phone while driving, but it seemed an unavoidable piece of law-breaking given the situation. ‘Yes, it’s a small town near Stirling.’
‘I know.’ There was some static then Toller’s voice came through again, loud and clear. ‘I am not clear why Heidi would be there.’
Bernard drove over a speed bump and nearly dropped the phone. ‘Could you phone Herr Weber and see if he has any ideas?’
‘Yes. Absolutely. I know Jens has been to Scotland many times. He may have taken the family there on previous holidays.’ There was a brief silence at the other end of the phone. ‘I will call his wife and ring you back.’
9
Mona turned around slowly, then tilted her head to look at the very tall, dark-haired man standing there. She would be the first
to admit that the attractiveness of the opposite sex wasn’t really her specialist subject, but she was pretty sure that this was a guy that could break a thousand teenage hearts. She stared at him, trying to work out what was going on. Had they been wrong about Kevin? Was this actually K? And where was Amanda? Had this man hurt her?
The situation clarified itself when Amanda walked back into the room holding a large kitchen knife. She smiled, and gently tapped its pointy end.
‘Ouch, sharp!’ She laughed and sucked her finger.
Mona felt a hot prickle of adrenalin. Her eye flicked round the room, checking out the exits, as she tried to figure out what was going on.
Amanda reached under her bed and pulled out something brightly coloured. Mona struggled at first to work out what it was, but as she thrust the bundle toward the man, she saw it was a handful of silk scarves.
‘Get her tied up.’
The tall guy looked round the room. ‘What to?’
She tutted, then disappeared out the door, reappearing with one of the sturdy kitchen chairs.
‘Sit!’
Amanda pointed the knife in the direction of the seat. Mona didn’t move. What were they planning? Murder? Torture? Once she was sitting down and tied up she didn’t fancy her chances.
‘Didn’t you hear her?’ The man grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her down. ‘Sit!’
He worked quickly, securing her wrists and ankles against the wood. Amanda inspected the work.
‘Looks good.’
The two of them stood watching her.
‘Anyway, you need to get going.’ Amanda nudged the man in the ribs.
‘Where?’
‘According to this nice lady,’ she pointed to Mona, ‘Heidi is in Dunblane.’
She closed her eyes. What had she done?
‘And where is that?’
Someone kicked the chair, and she opened her eyes. Amanda was standing very close to her.
‘Mona, where is Dunblane?’
She felt a wave of anger rise from her stomach. ‘Get a map.’
Amanda laughed. ‘Probably some middle-of-nowhere place up north. Anyway, I’ve got Heidi’s address book – let’s see if it’s in there.’ She pushed him in the direction of the door, followed the man out of the room, then stuck her head back in. ‘Don’t go anywhere, now.’
Mona spat out a curse at her, then sat trying to get her breath under control. Things could be worse; she wasn’t dead, and no-one appeared to be about to torture her. Unfortunately, that was because she had made it all so bloody easy for them. She strained toward the hall, trying in vain to hear if they really did have an address. After a couple of minutes the door slammed, and there was silence.
‘Amanda!’
She reappeared. ‘Yes, sweetie?’
‘Untie me right now, and I may not have to report this to the Police.’
Amanda laughed. ‘You really surpassed my expectations, you know that? I got you over here thinking that you might let slip some tiny hint of where my bitch flatmate is hiding out with my stuff. But you’ve gone well beyond that. You’ve delivered her up to me on a plate.’
Mona pulled against her bonds, succeeding only in tightening their grip, and increasing her own fury. ‘You’ll get done for this, you know.’
‘Will I?’ Amanda snorted. ‘After the high-quality investigation there’s been so far? I’m home and dry.’
‘No, you’re not.’
This provoked another laugh. ‘You never know when to give up, Mona. I like that. You are also dim. I like that too.’ She scooped up a handful of her remaining clothes, threw them into the suitcase, and ceremoniously dropped Heidi’s address book on top of them. She bent down and started to zip up the suitcase. ‘I mean, all it took was a few hints to you that Heidi and me were an item and you couldn’t do enough for me.’
She was struggling to get the overfilled suitcase closed. Mona watched as the girl sat on top of the case and tugged some more at the zip.
‘But then people are so gullible, Mona, aren’t they? Take students, for instance. All those brains, yet all it takes is a couple of blog posts suggesting a conspiracy and before you know it, you’ve got a full-blown cult on your hands.’
Mona wriggled her hands in an attempt to establish how loose her bonds were. ‘They’re not gullible, just scared and vulnerable.’
Amanda smirked. ‘Scared, vulnerable, and loaded. K had the perfect business – students putting up the money, taking all the risks, selling the drugs. And still thinking he’s a genius for pointing out the truth to them.’
The suitcase finally closed. Amanda got to her feet and pulled it upright. She sauntered toward Mona, and to her horror, sat on her lap, facing toward her with one leg on either side. Mona tugged at her bonds.
‘Vic Thompson is an arsehole. A lousy cheating arsehole who still owes me money. Not a bad shag, although I expect you don’t want to hear about that.’
She ran a finger gently down the side of Mona’s face. She jerked her face away, but Amanda grabbed her chin and turned her back to face her.
‘Poor old Mona. Have you told your colleagues you’re a dyke?’
She closed her eyes. ‘Fuck you.’
Amanda laughed. ‘Thought not.’ She wriggled from side to side then continued. ‘So this is the deal, right. You are going to sit there for a couple of hours and not try to contact any of your colleagues.’
Mona opened her eyes again. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because I’d like to get my gear, get my money, then bugger off somewhere abroad for a while. I’m thinking somewhere hot, nice beach, you know? And if I don’t make it out of the country I’ll tell your colleagues in graphic detail about the affair we’ve been having, ever since you turned up on my doorstep to talk to Heidi.’ Amanda leapt to her feet and put on a sad face. ‘There’s poor little lesbian me, missing my girlfriend, when you come along and take advantage of me.’
‘That’s all lies!’ Mona shouted.
‘Well, duh. Anyway, it’s not totally untrue is it, sweetie? If I’d given you the slightest opportunity you’d have had your tongue straight down my throat. Thought I was going to have to fight you off me in the hallway, you were so intent on consoling me.’
‘I’m not gay.’ Mona tugged violently at the bonds round her wrists.
‘Ha!’ Amanda smirked. ‘I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t. Not least, all your Police pals. Or Health Office, or whatever your mob call yourself now.’ She picked up her suitcase. ‘Anyway, lover, got to go. Here’s one for the road.’
She held Mona’s face in her hands, and planted a kiss firmly on her mouth. Without looking back she closed the bedroom door, and Mona heard the front door being shut.
She stared at her reflection in the dressing room mirror, and let out a yell of rage.
10
Bernard motored along the M90, with one eye on the road and the other watching his phone. He tried to calm his nerves by remembering what he knew of Dunblane. He’d been there years back while on holiday with Carrie. They’d taken their ancient car and tootled around from village to village, lazy and loved-up. He thought about the letter, still unread in his pocket.
A road sign loomed into view, indicating the junction for Linlithgow. Bernard tried to do a mental calculation of how far he had left to drive, and nearly went smashing into the back of a Fiat Punto that was hogging the inside lane.
He took each of his hands off the wheel in turn and dried the palms on his jeans. Why hadn’t Toller phoned back? Or why hadn’t Mona phoned to say ‘Joke’s over, Bernard. We weren’t really sending you to look for a bad guy’? He could picture her saying it.
As he drew near to Falkirk his phone rang. He reached for it, but in his hurry knocked it off the seat so it landed in the footwell. Cursing, Bernard pulled off the motorway at the next junction. He drew into a lay-by and scrabbled around for it. The ringing had long stopped by the time he reached it. He picked it up and saw it was Toller who’d called. He pre
ssed redial.
‘I was right.’ Toller sounded triumphant. ‘The Weber family had several holidays in Dunblane when Heidi was young. Unfortunately, Jens was not clear on the name of the house they stayed in. He thinks perhaps Mitre House. Or possibly Martyr House?’
‘Mitre House? Do you have an address or anything?’
‘No. I am sorry. It was twenty years ago. Frau Weber is looking through her old correspondence as we speak.’
‘Did they remember anything else? What did it look like?’
‘This is a stupid memory, perhaps, but they mentioned a sculpture of a bird at the front gate?’ Toller sighed. ‘There was a bridge, perhaps? And the house may have been white? I’m afraid I don’t know, Bernard. I would very much like to assist. I will telephone them again, and anyone else that I think might be able to assist us.’‘Don’t worry about it. You’ve been very helpful.’ Bernard hung up with an oath. He clicked on his phone’s browser and called up a search engine, which produced no results for either Mitre or Martyr House. Was there any point in going on? After a moment’s thought he decided he’d come this far and might as well keep driving.
He got back onto the main road and put his foot down. He drove through Stirling without his phone ringing again, and saw the directions that pointed to his destination.
He drove slowly through the centre of the town until he saw the familiar blue sign of the Police Station. The feeling of relief this provoked was short-lived, as on his approach to the building he saw a sign stating ‘Closed due to Virus Staff Shortages’.
‘What now?’ he said out loud. He dialled Mona’s number, which went straight through to her voicemail. ‘Shit.’ Why wasn’t she picking up? She must have been expecting him to call.
He paused beside his car. He could drive back the way he came until he found a Police Station that was actually staffed, but nowhere else was likely to know the location of the house they were looking for, at least not from the limited description he could give. He looked from his car to his phone, seeking inspiration, and decided that the most useful thing he could do was try and locate Mitre House.