Captor

by Anita Waller

  ‘The police have already gone to his home. We have to wait; Brent said he’d be in touch once he knew more.’

  Tom stood. ‘I’ll get back to the office. And I’ll ring Chloe – I’ve already told her, she was sobbing when I put down the phone. Then I’ll have to tell the staff. God, this is hard.’

  ‘I know.’ Liz touched his hand. ‘I’m sorry I’m not there supporting you.’

  She followed him to the door, and watched as he drove away. She felt strangely uneasy; he had been really angry with her when he arrived; in all the twelve years she had known him, he had never so much as raised his voice.

  She turned to go back into the lounge, and saw Dan.

  ‘I didn’t want to interrupt…’ he said. ‘Are you okay? He sounded a bit stroppy.’

  ‘He’s angry because he’s lost his business partner and best friend.’ She paused. ‘Dan… can you find plans of houses on the internet?’

  He tried not to smile. ‘I can find plans of the Pentagon on the internet.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh sorry, I shouldn’t have confessed that… what do you want to know?’

  ‘If I give you an address, can you find plans for the house?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is it legal?’

  ‘Fudged.’

  ‘What? What does that mean?’

  ‘Mum, give me the address.’

  She tore a page out of the notebook and wrote down Julia’s address. She handed it to him, and he glanced at it. ‘Give me an hour. I’ve got something running that I need to finish first.’

  He went to head back upstairs.

  ‘Can you really get the Pentagon plans?’ she called.

  ‘Of course.’

  She shook her head and smiled. She hoped he was joking.

  44

  Phil was hungry. Working on Jake’s sleep patterns, he reckoned it was two days since the dumb waiter had last arrived.

  This was scary. He was concerned about the intermittent pains he was experiencing in his chest, the prolonged ache in his back, the weakness he felt generally. He was rationing milk, nibbling at food – what he wouldn’t give for a big fat juicy steak. Jake was okay; he had enough baby food for a month or so, but without an adult to give it to him…

  Had this been Captor’s intention all along? To get father and son in this cellar, before walking away? To leave them to die?

  Whoever Captor was, the planning was incredible. Phil had no idea how long he’d been held, but knew it must be months. He had never heard any voices other than Captor’s own disguised voice, so obviously nobody knew of the existence of this prison.

  Phil took a small bite out of the stale sandwich, and chewed it slowly. When his own food was all gone, he would have decisions to make about the baby food.

  He needed to live to keep Jake alive.

  45

  Rick Naylor walked into DI Brent’s office carrying the backpack and wallet. He was tall and starting to carry a little too much weight to be healthy. Brent looked up as the door opened.

  ‘Rick! Didn’t see you at the crime scene.’ He held out his hand to shake Rick’s. ‘Seems ages since we’ve been out for a drink.’

  Rick grinned. ‘About six months, I reckon. I got out of the crime scene job. Was a bit wild and woolly, I understand. Everybody came back wet through. Anyway, brought these up for you. The report’s been emailed to you, but it basically says it was suicide. That backpack has a note in it, explaining why. I brought it straight up here because it gives you even more problems. It makes everything that’s happened in your murder case so far, look like trivialities. It’s all been logged, and the victim’s fingerprints are all over the note. It seems he climbed up the tree, tied a rope round his neck and jumped. Deeply disturbed chap.’

  ‘Sit down for a minute. Take me through it.’

  Rick opened the bag and withdrew a small plastic bag with a letter inside it. He passed it across to Brent.

  ‘This is the main item. It’s dated two days ago.’

  Brent took the handwritten letter from Rick and read.

  DI Brent

  I am possibly making assumptions, but I am presuming that you have, by now, worked it out that I am the one who killed Sadie Fremantle and Gareth Chambers. If you hadn’t have reached that conclusion, it would have only been a matter of time before you did.

  I cannot, of course, go to prison. Therefore, as you are reading this, I am dead. That solves that particular problem.

  Brent lifted his head and stared at Rick Naylor. ‘Shit.’

  Naylor nodded. ‘Thought you might say that. I’ll leave you to it then,’ and he stood to leave Will’s office.

  Brent held up a hand. ‘Hang on, Rick. You’ve read all of this?’

  Naylor nodded again.

  ‘Then don’t go. I can’t miss anything in this, any little nuances there might be. Let’s go through this together, if you can spare me the time.’

  Naylor let out a small whistle. ‘Bloody ’ell, Will. We’ve never had a DI before who knew the word nuances, never mind knew what it meant.’ He retook his seat opposite Brent and waited.

  Brent picked up the letter again and continued to read, this time aloud, so they missed nothing.

  Elizabeth Chambers has caused so much heartache, so much pain in my life, she has had to be punished. I only intended taking her baby; that was the plan. I would keep him for a few weeks, then leave him somewhere he would be found. I wanted her to know that she couldn’t interfere in, and subsequently destroy, other people’s lives.

  But then Rosemary Latimer came to see me. She was distraught. She told me her husband, Philip, had been having an affair with Liz, and the baby was her husband’s child. Not only was Liz forcing her way into my own life by dripping poison into Julia one drop at a time, she had destroyed another family.

  Julia ultimately left me, and there is no hope left in me of a reconciliation.

  Brent paused again, while he digested what he had read aloud.

  ‘It gets better,’ Rick said. ‘Or worse, depending on which way you look at it.’

  ‘This man is seriously disturbed,’ Brent growled. ‘He’s changed from being a solicitor, to take on the role of judge and jury.’

  I decided to set up the place where I would keep the baby, but after Rosemary had told me about Philip, I knew the man had to be the first. If Liz loved him as much as Rosemary said she did, it would wound her deeply to know he was missing. I followed him one day, dressed as a jogger. He was walking in Ecclesall Woods. It was early in the morning – I didn’t sleep much, and I had sat in my car, near his home, all night waiting for him to go out. It was a regular routine for him to walk every morning.

  It was simple. I stabbed him in the neck with a syringe of Rohypnol, and he fell to the floor. I dragged him back to my car and within an hour, before he recovered from the drug, he was in my place of captivity. He is still there. I removed his watch, his wallet and two mobile phones before locking him away.

  The significance of the second mobile phone, a Nokia, was revealed when Liz Chambers tried to contact him. I decided to use that phone to let her think she was speaking to her beloved Philip.

  I fed him inadequate amounts daily, via a dumb waiter I constructed. I watched him the whole of the time via CCTV cameras I rigged up. At first, he was angry, but every so often I would do something decent, like providing an extra blanket, and he would cry with gratitude. I was playing with his mind.

  ‘Dumb waiter? Is he holding him in a cellar then? Or a bedroom? This man is a psycho… I feel like a complete idiot. I’ve interviewed him twice, not because he was a suspect, but because it was part of the general routine, really. He came across as one smart guy, polite, friendly, and extremely professional. He also came across as clearly being fond of, and supportive of, Liz Chambers.’

  ‘That type of persona was what gave Harold Shipman credence. The professional bit. Don’t beat yourself up about it, Will, it seems he’s fooled everybody, not
only you. Nobody from his practice has raised any queries, have they? Not even his partner?’ Rick could see Will was winding himself up over it.

  ‘Shit,’ Will groaned. ‘His partner. I’ve to tell one of the most respected solicitors in Sheffield that his partner has murdered two people, kidnapped two more…’ and then realisation hit him.

  ‘Where are they, Rick? Is it at the end? We need to get officers to wherever it is, and get that baby back to his mother.’

  Rick shook his head. ‘Don’t bother rushing with reading it – he makes it clear he’s not going to tell anyone where they are.’

  Brent felt numb. Could the day get any worse? He returned to reading out the letter. Rick sat forward, listening intently. He had read it, but listening to Will’s audible version of it made it… different.

  Then I became even nicer to him. I sent hot drinks down to him.

  ‘Down to him… so he definitely has them in a cellar. The dumb waiter is travelling down, not up.’ Brent wrote cellar on his notepad.

  He slept more, because I thoughtfully put tablets in the hot drinks, medication supplied by my doctor after I told her I couldn’t sleep following the break-up of my marriage. I soon learned how many tablets he needed to put him out for three hours, and during one of these lengthy naps I moved everything the baby would need into Latimer’s prison room.

  Then I stopped giving him the medication, he needed to be alert enough for a young child. He didn’t seem to understand. I think he thought it was merely some stuff ‘Captor’ (that is what he called me) needed to store.

  Are you following all of this, DI Brent? Everything happened as I expected it to, until the day I snatched the child.

  I knew there was always the chance I would have to kill the woman. The child was never in danger. I had the address from our taxi service records. Their driver took Liz from Rosemary Latimer’s direct to Sadie Fremantle’s to pick up the child.

  What I hadn’t counted on was Gareth Chambers screwing her on the afternoon I turn up to get the child. I had taken a knife in case I had to dispose of her, but I have to tell you, DI Brent, if I could have done it without killing, that is what would have happened.

  She appeared at the top of the stairs, naked except for a dressing gown she was trying to put on. I was holding the knife, but managed to grab at her and throw her down the stairs. She screamed, but initially that didn’t worry me.

  Gareth Chambers then appeared out of the bedroom door, naked, and recognised me. I stabbed him.

  I took the child, climbed over the woman and strapped Jacob into his pushchair. I had parked my car on the service road that runs parallel with the main road, and I strapped him into the rear seat. I couldn’t fold the pushchair, as you probably know, so I threw it into the boot still fully assembled.

  I then drove to the prison room, and sent Jacob down to his father in the car seat, via the dumb waiter.

  Will stopped speaking and stared at his friend. ‘Fucking heartless, absolutely fucking heartless. What sort of bastard are we dealing with here?’

  ‘A dead one,’ Rick responded drily. ‘But carry on, and you’ll really learn what a bastard he was.’

  They bonded as if they had always known each other. Latimer treasured that child; what a pity he hadn’t treasured his own wife and child as much. He is still looking after him now, but this is where things get difficult, DI Brent.

  You don’t know where they are, and this letter isn’t going to tell you. This letter is all about me, about why I did this. When I made my plans, I knew I would have to die, but to be perfectly honest, I have nothing left to live for. I love Julia. I adore Julia.

  Liz Chambers took that relationship away from me by poisoning my wife against me, advising her to be strong, to walk away. She destroyed Rosemary Latimer’s marriage, and her husband’s relationship with Melissa, his only child.

  Now she will pay.

  Phil Latimer has little food, maybe enough for a couple of days. He has approximately four small bottles of water, although he does have access to a wash basin with running water.

  Jacob has enough baby food for about a month.

  When Phil Latimer becomes disoriented and weak from lack of food, he will be incapable of feeding the child. Or changing nappies.

  There are no clues. I don’t want you to find them. Maybe if Julia had come back to me, the outcome would have been different. But she didn’t.

  I will be avenged.

  * * *

  Oliver Hardwick

  Brent threw the letter on to his desk, and clenched his fists. ‘This was written two days ago, which means Phil Latimer may already be out of food, unless he’s been really careful, and has clicked on there’s no more coming from the dumb waiter. Let’s think this through.’

  ‘I already have,’ Rick said. ‘I’m glad you asked me to stay while you read it. The key to their survival is if Latimer can stay alive. If he can ration that baby food so that they eat one portion each per day, it may give you an extra two weeks.’

  He stood and shook Will’s hand. ‘Good luck, pal. We’ll have our drink when this is over.’

  The office felt empty once Rick had left, and Brent picked up the letter and quickly reread it. He walked into the main office, looked around at his team, and waved the letter at them.

  ‘If anybody’s booked any leave in the next three weeks, forget it. I want everyone on the team here in thirty minutes for a briefing, and I mean everyone. If anybody is out interviewing, or door-knocking, get them back here. Lynda, Tanya, can I see you in my office please?’

  The two women looked at each other, both briefly wondering what they had done wrong and deciding nothing, then followed their boss into his office.

  ‘I want you to be prepared, by reading this before the briefing. You both know the Chambers family, and we have a massive problem.’ He turned around, walked to the photocopy machine, and ran off two copies of the letter. He silently handed them to the women, then went back to the machine to run off extras for the briefing. He printed twenty more, and decided he wanted all twenty back in his hands at the end of the meeting. He didn’t want this getting into the papers, either by accident or design.

  Tanya and Lynda read through the letter, and for a moment both were silenced.

  ‘Murders solved then,’ Lynda finally said. ‘The absolute bastard.’

  ‘We have to tell Liz,’ was Tanya’s initial response. ‘Maybe she can think of somewhere that she can connect to Hardwick. She’s known him for a lot of years – maybe he has a holiday home? Maybe his parents left him property? Liz, and Tom Banton – and Julia Hardwick, of course – know the most about him.’

  Will nodded. This was what he hoped would happen after the briefing – a fast and furious exchange of thoughts. He had a good team; they would be horrified when they read the letter, but it would energise each and every one of them.

  ‘Thank you, ladies. Keep thinking. After the briefing, I’m going to see Liz. I want you two to filter all the ideas coming from everyone at the meeting, get things up on that white board. We’re against the clock. We have to find this prison, and fast.

  46

  Dan clattered downstairs, carrying printouts. He handed them to Liz, and she quickly scanned them. Then she spread them on to the coffee table.

  ‘Are you legally getting these?’

  He shrugged. ‘You are. I gave them to you.’

  She thought through his logic, and shook her head. ‘I’ll take the blame if anything should come of this.’

  ‘And I’ll let you,’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘Right, talk me through them.’

  ‘First, did you know who owned the property before you asked me to get the plans?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I know Julia is renting, until she finds the right house to buy.’

  ‘Then that’s even more strange. It’s owned by your Mr Hardwick.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what it says.’

  ‘I’m 100% s
ure that Julia doesn’t know that little fact. She put her name with several estate agents, and waited to see what they all could offer. This one was in the right area, at the right price, although she’s paying a ridiculously small amount of rent for a Victorian stone built property in that area. That explains the low rent, doesn’t it? He’s manipulating her once again. Do I tell her, or not?’

  ‘How are you going to explain that you know who her landlord is? You can’t say you’ve seen these. She’d think it pretty weird that you wanted plans of her house.’

  Liz shrugged. ‘I have no idea. She’s obviously going to find out though, because Oliver’s death means she inherits; they’re still married.’ She shook her head, showing the despair she was feeling. ‘Perhaps the answer is to say nothing, then when she does find out, be the caring friend. That way, I keep her friendship, instead of being in a potential “don’t shoot the messenger” situation.’

  ‘I think you’re right. So, what next?’

  ‘Let’s go through these papers, see if there’s anything suspicious. We’re looking for a cellar, an attic, an outbuilding that could conceivably house Jake and Phil.’

  The house had four levels: basement, kitchen and living area; three bedrooms, and an attic level. Liz dropped her head, after putting on reading glasses. Over her years at Banton and Hardwick, she had seen hundreds of sets of plans, and blessed that fact as she pored over Julia’s house plans, understanding everything she was seeing.

  She started with the basement – it was split into two areas, one that had originally been used to house coal deliveries, and the other for storage, wine cellar – whatever the owner needed. The entrance to the basement was a door leading off the hall, with twelve steps going down.

  ‘Look at this,’ she said to Dan. ‘We have to go see Julia. You up for it?’

  ‘Give me two minutes.’ He stood, and the doorbell rang. They glanced out of the window and saw Will Brent’s car.

  ‘Damn,’ she swore quietly. ‘It’s Brent and Lynda. Let them in.’