Captor

by Anita Waller

  It was fully dark, and she stared through the lounge window, watching the two officers watching her. They must have had a shift change because they were different to the two escorts of that morning. She saw them sit up a little straighter, then both got out. Brent climbed out of the car that had pulled in front of them. He spoke briefly, and they returned to their vehicle.

  Liz moved to the front door, dread in her heart.

  She opened the door, wordlessly. ‘Hi, Liz. Take that look off your face. I’m not here with news of Jake.’ He watched her face crumple, and tears flowed.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Bad day?’

  She nodded. ‘Bad day.’ She pulled her tissue from her sleeve and mopped ineffectually at the tears. ‘Are you here for a reason?’

  ‘I am.’

  She saw his eyes change, from caring to professional. ‘It’s concerning Oliver Hardwick.’

  ‘Oliver?’ She looked puzzled. ‘He’s not arrived at work, then?’

  ‘You knew he was missing?’

  ‘Sort of. I knew Tom Banton couldn’t track him down. I didn’t know he was missing…’ Her eyes widened as she took in the implications. ‘Oh my God, you think he’s been taken as well, don’t you?’

  ‘He’s connected to you, we can’t discount that there’s a link.’

  Fear flashed across her face. ‘But why? What have I done to bring all this down on people that I love?’

  They moved into the lounge and sat down. Liz was tearing her tissue into shreds. ‘Have you checked with his wife? With Julia?’

  ‘She’s the one who has officially made him a missing person. Ordinarily, we wouldn’t even be considering it at this early stage, but in view of his link to our investigation, we’re taking it seriously. Apparently your Mr Banton has been ringing his mobile phone all day, with no success. He eventually rang Julia Hardwick, who knew nothing of his whereabouts, but by this time alarm bells were ringing in Mr Banton’s head, and he asked Julia, as Mr Hardwick’s next of kin, to report him missing. They’re being interviewed right now, in the hope we can get some lead on him.’

  ‘He lives alone…’ she started to say.

  ‘We know. We have no idea when he was last seen. His wife hasn’t seen him for some time, although they have infrequent conversations by text. She’s almost of the impression he’s doing it to get her back; apparently, he was devastated when she left him, and it’s been pretty constant, the barrage of texts telling her he wants her back in his home. I don’t think that’s the case. I think he’s been taken. I need to ask you a question. Have you and Oliver Hardwick ever been anything other than employer / employee?’

  ‘My God, no!’ Her answer was emphatic. ‘I have only ever slept with two men in my life, Gareth and Phil. Yes, Oliver was a friend as well as an employer, but that’s all.’

  Brent nodded. ‘Does his wife know that?’

  ‘What? There’s nothing for Julia to know, or even query… I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.’

  I’m getting at Julia Hardwick. Have you ever managed to cross her, either knowingly or accidentally?’

  ‘We’ve been friends for years. Since junior school. Met up again when I started work for Banton and Hardwick because I recognised her from the photo on Oliver’s desk. For fuck’s sake, I wouldn’t sleep with her husband.’ He could hear the anger in her voice, and knew there could be more to come. He had to push her, to make sure she was telling the truth.

  ‘You slept with Phil Latimer,’ he said. ‘I don’t imagine Rosemary Latimer was too pleased about that.’

  ‘I loved… love… Phil. I didn’t love Oliver. Simple.’ Her tone was scathing. ‘Now back off, and go and find the bastard who is doing this to me. And get those two gone from my driveway, I don’t want any protection from now on. Let whoever is taking them come and get me. At least I’ll see my son again. I mean it, DI Brent. Get them out looking for this kidnapper, instead of guarding me.’

  ‘That’s against my wishes, Liz.’

  ‘Do I care? I’m going to see my husband in the Chapel of Rest tomorrow, and I’m going alone. If they’re still at the top of my drive blocking my car’s exit, I’ll ram them. That’s a promise. Tell them to go when you leave here. Now, is there anything else?’

  ‘Not at the moment. Can I send Tanya back to you if you don’t want the lads in the car?’

  ‘No. Leave Dan and I alone. We’ll look after each other.’

  He nodded. ‘As you wish. I’ll be in touch.’ He stood. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  Her anger was evident in the way she held her head, the stiffness in her frame as she stood. ‘Find my son,’ she snarled as he exited her house.

  39

  The density of the cloud cover effectively blocked out the moon, and the night sky was black, dense like velvet. The wind had increased slowly through the day to howling level; the rain was torrential. A bad night to be out, and few people had ventured far from their homes. The attractions of a fire proved to be much better than ferreting out the wellies and going to the pub, or to bingo.

  Dog walkers let their shivering, reluctant pets out into the back garden, instead of taking them out for their night-time perambulations. In the darkness of the woodland, a tree branch creaked as the wind, slightly less strong in the more sheltered environment, caused the weight attached to the limb of the tree to move.

  It swung, it spiralled. The bowels and bladder had long since evacuated, the eyes stared. Rainwater dripped off the dangling fingers; the hair was flattened to the scalp.

  Oliver Hardwick was not destined to join Phil Latimer and Jacob Chambers in the cellar. Endgame was underway.

  40

  Liz waited until seven before ringing Tom. He was already in the office. From the noise, she guessed he was in her room, using the coffee maker.

  He sounded subdued. ‘Liz?’

  ‘Tom – any news?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t sleep…’

  ‘Me neither. I’ve waited two hours before ringing you…’

  ‘Where can he be, Liz? He’s so predictable. Does everything by the book. If he had planned this time out, he would have cleared it with me. I know he’s been really down over this split from Julia, but…’

  ‘Tom, DI Brent thinks it’s connected to Jake’s disappearance. He doesn’t think Oliver has walked away, he thinks he’s been taken.’

  ‘But that doesn’t make sense, or am I missing something? Oliver is your employer, not your lover or your child. He’s not, is he? Your lover, I mean.’

  ‘No, he’s not. Definitely not. But I do care about Oliver, as I care about you. Brent is convinced that all of this is to punish me, to make me suffer, and it’s bloody working. We can’t work out who would want to do that.’

  Tom hesitated. ‘Rosemary Latimer?’

  ‘No, she has an alibi for the time of the murders. And she loves Melissa too much. That child comes first with her; she wouldn’t risk prison, risk losing everything. Yes, she’s mad at me, would probably like to see me dead even, but she wouldn’t do anything about it.’

  He sighed. ‘You’re probably right. I was clutching at straws. I’m going to ring Julia now, see if she knows anything. I’m assuming Brent will have her as first port of call, as they’re technically still married. I’ll ring you later.’

  She put down the receiver and walked into the kitchen. It was still dark, the rain bucketing down, lashing against the window.

  Slowly, over the next twenty minutes or so, the sky lightened. Her mood didn’t.

  She dressed carefully, knowing this would be the last time she would ever look on Gareth’s face. She thanked God for all the memories they had created over their joint lifetime, and knew she would always miss him.

  When Dan joined her, he was dressed in his suit. ‘I’ve decided to go with you.’

  ‘Have I forced you into this?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, you haven’t. I think I’m scared of seeing a dead body, but he’s my dad. He never hurt me when he was a
live, and he wouldn’t hurt me now he’s gone. Is his face…?’

  ‘It’s untouched,’ she said gently, and pulled him close. ‘It will be like seeing him sleeping.’

  She felt him nod.

  He moved away from her, and headed for the kitchen. Removing his suit jacket, he called, ‘Want me to cook the cornflakes this morning?’

  She smiled. ‘Make mine Coco Pops. I need chocolate.’

  Dan clung tightly to Liz’s hand as they were led into the room where Gareth lay. To Dan’s horror, he realised that ‘looking as if he were asleep’ was a mile away from how his father looked. He looked dead.

  He choked back a sob, and she released his hand, pulling him closer to her, her arm around his shoulders.

  ‘I’m here for you,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t be afraid. Your dad wouldn’t want that.’

  They stood for a moment without moving, and then Liz released her hold on him and moved forward. She touched the back of her hand on Gareth’s brow.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘Fly with the angels, Gareth.’

  Dan moved to join her, then leaned down and kissed his father’s head. ‘Love you, Dad. I’ll take care of Mum, I promise.’

  They stayed a few minutes longer, then left, once again holding hands.

  Liz felt numb. She knew one day the grief would hit her, but while ever Jake was out there, unfound, she couldn’t give in to it.

  They climbed back into her car, and she set off for home. Back to the real world – the world where three people who belonged, one way or another, to her, were all missing.

  She would have to say goodbye to Gareth, but she knew it wasn’t time to say goodbye to the others. It was all she had to cling to – her hope, her belief that Jake and Phil were still alive somewhere, and possibly joined by Oliver.

  Whoever was holding them was pure evil, but it had to be someone who knew what would hurt her the most. And it had to be someone who knew her, really knew her. This wasn’t some stranger, this was someone close to her.

  She drove the car on to the driveway, and almost ran the few steps to her door. She let them in, and gave her son a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Don’t feel you need to stay with me – I heard what you said to Dad, but I don’t need looking after. It’s still my job to look after you. Go to your room, and make us lots of money with your game. I don’t need baby-sitting, honestly. Besides, I have some thinking to do.’

  He nodded. ‘If you’re sure…?’

  ‘I am.’ Her tone was firm. ‘And thank you. I wouldn’t have let you know, but I was dreading going to see your dad on my own. You give me strength, Dan.’

  He returned her kiss, and headed up the stairs.

  She moved into the kitchen, sat at the table and took out the small notebook she carried in her bag.

  The list started with Rosie Latimer’s name.

  Rosie Latimer

  Tom Banton

  Chloe Banton

  Julia Hardwick

  Christian Fremantle ???

  And then she stopped. Did she really only have this small circle of people who knew her well? And should she put Phil Latimer on that list? Should Christian be taken off it? She had no idea what Sadie had told him about her, if anything, so she left him on the list, and left the question marks in place.

  Could Phil be behind all of this? If he was, he had played it cleverly, laying false trails with the phone, not using his bank card… but she couldn’t see it. They had loved too intensely, the kind of love that would endure through everything. No way would Phil cause her distress or pain.

  She could almost sense him beside her, so extreme was the feeling she knew still lived in her. His face – the eyes that smiled all the time, the hair she had run her fingers through, before, during and after making love. The laughter, the quietude, the times they didn’t need to speak. No, Phil shouldn’t be on the list.

  So that left four people – she couldn’t really count Christian, she had never even spoken to him, before the murders had joined their lives.

  She started a new page and wrote ‘Rosie Latimer’ at the top.

  Discovered affair by Phil telling her.

  Knew about Jake being Phil’s baby.

  Strange behaviour re cheque – never explained.

  Alibi for time of murders. Assume police have triple checked this.

  If she didn’t commit murders, she didn’t take Jake.

  Could she have a partner? Has Brent looked into this?

  Liz stared at the points she had made, then turned over to the next page. She would go back and continue with the bullet points if anything else occurred to her. She moved on to Tom Banton.

  Boss. Known me 12 years.

  Did he know about my affair?

  If he did, why would it upset him to this extent? Effect on business?

  Is he happily married?

  Does he have an alibi for time of murders?

  He isn’t the right build for the person on CCTV. He’s too tall.

  Need to check with Brent if they’ve looked at Tom.

  On her next page, she wrote ‘Chloe Banton’. She was undecided whether or not to include Chloe – she had known her for a long time, but only on the periphery of Tom’s life. They had shared phone calls when Chloe had called her husband and Tom had been out of the office. They had met up at the annual Christmas event that Banton and Hardwick hosted for their employees, but Liz knew she couldn’t really call them close, Chloe and she had never been best buddies – unlike her and Julia.

  Liz left the page with Chloe’s name on as a blank page, and headed up the next one with the name Julia Hardwick.

  Wife of Oliver, close friend. Knew about Phil.

  Asked me if Jake was Phil’s baby, so obviously suspected. I did not confirm.

  No babies of her own. Is this significant?

  Drinks heavily now.

  Refuses to consider going back to Oliver.

  There was a barrier between us the other day. Coldness.

  Does she have an alibi?

  Right size for CCTV pics.

  Where is she living? Oliver still in marital home.

  She could get close enough to Oliver to disable him. Syringe? Drugs?

  Liz leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. Was she letting her imagination run riot? Her notes pointed to Julia – Julia, who she had known since they were children at school. Liz thought about all the late-night chats, the shared drinks after work, the chatter between them, and she realised she knew little about her. Did she not want children, or was there some medical problem between them that stopped them having a family? Could she have taken Jake to bring him up as her own?

  Liz leaned forward and jotted down the additional thoughts that she had worked her way through. Then she headed up the next page with Christian Fremantle’s name, but could find nothing to write on it.

  She stared long and hard at the page dedicated to Julia. Where the hell was she living? Did it have a secure room in which she could keep two men and a baby, locked up with no means of escape? It seemed a ridiculous, improbable thought.

  Liz knew that neither Phil nor Oliver would give in to imprisonment, they would seek freedom. She took her mobile phone out of her bag and hesitated a moment before pressing the number that would connect her to her friend. She had to be careful; had to act exactly as she usually did, when she rang purely for a chat. This time the chat would be her commiserating about the disappearance of Oliver, and the call would be from a solicitous friend.

  She pressed the button and Julia answered almost immediately.

  ‘Liz?’ There was an obvious catch in her voice.

  ‘I’m here, Julia. Is there anything I can do? Have the police found him?’

  ‘No, no sightings, nothing. He’s not used his phone, his cards, and heaven knows where his car is. I’m so scared.’

  ‘Hey… he may have taken off for some time out. I know his split from you really upset him…’

  �
�But where is he? Why hasn’t he rung me to let me know he’s safe? He’s quick enough to text at other times, but now, nothing. The police seem to think it’s connected to Jake and Phil Latimer’s disappearance, but I’m not buying that. He doesn’t really have any connection to them.’

  ‘Have they told you that, or are you adding two and two and making five?’

  ‘They hinted at it. Seemed to suggest he might have been snatched, exactly as they think happened to Phil.’

  ‘Julia, I hate to think you’re on your own. Tell me your address, and I’ll come over and see you.’

  Liz was shocked when Julia gave her the information. She had half expected her to procrastinate, find some excuse for not passing on the address. It was a stone-built detached house, Julia explained, with inadequate car spaces, so Liz might have to park and walk.

  Liz didn’t want to go, but she seemed to have talked herself into it. She explained to Julia she would check Dan was okay, after the morning’s activities, and she heard Julia’s quick intake of breath.

  ‘You two have been to see Gareth, haven’t you? Oh my God, Liz, I’m such a shit. Stay with Dan. If things go pear-shaped with Oliver, I’ll need you then, but for now, Dan is more important. Stay with your son.’

  ‘If you’re sure…’

  ‘I’m sure. And as soon as I hear anything, I’ll give you a ring. If things get desperate, I’ll nip over to see you.’

  Liz nodded, then realised Julia couldn’t see her. ‘Okay, we’ll leave it at that. Ring at any time, Julia. I’ll be here for you.’

  She stared at the now-silent phone, and threw it on to the sofa. Result. She had the address.

  Going to the foot of the stairs, Liz hesitated. Screw your courage to the sticking post, or whatever that crazy saying is, she mumbled softly, and climbed.

  41

  Phil felt the first stirrings of panic since waking up on that awful day, when he’d realised there was no means of escape. Over the months he had come to accept he would have to sit it out until either he was killed, or someone found him; he couldn’t escape on his own.