“Is that the newsroom? I’d liked to speak to Sandy Stirrit please. If you could yes, it’s rather urgent.”
***
Sanderson was knocked onto his back and Mary threw herself on top of him. She grasped around in the darkness and found the round end of the heavy metal torch. Lifting it above her head with her thighs gripping her father’s sides she pounded his torso and head. Three, four times her anger rained down on her father, years of pent up anger released in one long primal scream. Then a hand grabbed her from behind and pulled her off, threw her back.
“That is enough.”
As Mary looked up she saw Onur had the gun. Sanderson was still alive, “That is quite enough.” The room was silent, so quiet they could hear each other’s breathing and the low groans from Sanderson, who was barely moving. In the background they could hear a voice. Hanom followed the sound into the back room and pressed her ear to the wall.
“It’s coming from here, there must be another room.”
Rosalind Ying had had better weeks. When she came to, she was face down and choking. She awoke with a start and cleared her throat, retching and spluttering as she clamoured for air. She breathed in deeply. The stench was overwhelming. Crouched forward on all fours Rosalind vomited the contents of her stomach; her hands were inch deep in excrement. ‘Where am I?’ Then she remembered the hatch. ‘Sanderson.’ She looked up but could see no light. ‘I’m in the tank which will be airtight and sealed. I don’t have much time.’
She screamed.
“There it is again,” Hanom said, “It sounds like a woman. We have to help her. I think she’s in pain.”
Mary looked at Onur, “Give me the gun, this is my battle.”
She stood up and walked over to Onur with her arm outstretched.
“Please give me the gun.”
Onur presented the gun face down on the palm of his hand.
“Don’t worry,” Mary said, “We will find your daughter.”
Mary looked at the gun. She had never used one before but she knew how it worked. Her father had already fired it so she knew the safety was off. She straddled her father once more, pinning his arms to the ground with her legs. She placed the gun to the side of his head above his right ear and whispered.
“Who is in the next room?”
Sanderson looked at her with fear in his eyes. His face was caked with blood which was already starting to harden; thick streaks of red matted his white hair.
“I don’t know what you mean,” the sound audible only to Mary.
She squeezed the trigger slightly, “Who is next door and where is the girl? You have one chance to redeem yourself, dad, take it.”
He started to protest, “I don’t kn—” but the shot rang out before he had the chance to say anything more, “The next time I won’t miss” Mary said. She had fired off what was to be her final warning.
“It’s the detective – the woman – she’s in the septic tank in the shower block – she’s still alive – I only needed her out of the way. The girl’s in the house.” There were tears in his eyes.
“All your good work, undone – the shame of it all.” Mary stood up aimed at his chest and fired.
The fourth shot was muffled and definitely outside. Arbogast lay writhing on the floor, with the pain from his shoulder causing him to spin round as his legs thrashed out.
“Be still.” When he looked up he could see the man with Onur’s face staring down at him, “I have something to take care of. And this is something we can all do together.”
Arbogast didn’t see the kick coming and was almost relieved in the split second when the force pushed him back into oblivion.
Karim lifted the Detective’s limp arm and dropped it to the floor satisfied he would pose no problems. The shots had come from the caravan. Making his way to the front of the house he stood and watched, looking for movement, for a clue to what was happening. The door to the caravan burst open and he saw his brother run out with gun in hand, followed by two women. They looked to Karim as if they had stepped out of hell, covered in dirt and blood they squinted at the force of the sunshine, unfamiliar after their confinement. He knew this would be the best time to act. Unlocking the front door he drew his gun and ran out to meet them.
Making their way up and out of their dungeon Mary, Onur and Hanom did not know exactly what to expect but they were armed and had purpose. Emerging into the caravan they heard a shot from the house.
“Kovan,” Hanom said, “My daughter – he has killed my daughter.” Hanom raised her hands to cover her ears, to block out the unfolding drama but it was no use. Mary stood back and raised the gun, pointing at Onur.
“We must think clearly. Who is here and what are we dealing with? I only expected to find my father.”
“I know my brother is here. Karim was to be our saviour but now, well now I don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Then, without warning, Onur lunged at Mary knocking her back against the flimsy partition wall, which bobbled under her weight. Onur grabbed at Mary’s shirt, taking the gun from her before pulling open the door and running out into the bright sunlight.
“Stop,” Mary screamed, but her protests came too late. They had barely made it out of the door when a shot rang out and Onur fell to the ground. His mirror image was charging at them, arm raised and gun aimed right at them. Onur had fallen. Taking the gun she doubled back to the shower block, leaving Hanom to care for her husband. Mary slipped and fell trying to race around the corner. The firing had stopped and she was back in relative safety. She knew she didn’t have much time. Scanning the floor she saw the clean marks scraped through the months of filth on the tiled floor and found the handle to the hatch. The door sprang open and Mary looked down, searching for signs of life.
“Hello. Is there anyone there?”
“Don’t you fucking dare come down here. I’m a senior police officer and you’ve made a fucking big mistake.”
Mary smiled. “I’m a prisoner too but I need your help officer and you need me to get out of this shit pit. It’s Mary. Mary Clark. I think I’ve killed my father.”
***
Sandy Stirrit sat back and wondered what had just happened. John Madoch had phoned him and told him that he had unearthed ‘a conspiracy’ among certain of his staff and that he would be taking his case to the police. It had been suggested he might want to take a camera crew to the Sanderson farm, where he would be able to document the end of a rather unsavoury episode which he said was threatening to tarnish his good name. He had then hung up. Sandy had been in the game long enough to know that he was being set up for something, but it was something big.
***
The rush of fresh air which came when the hatch opened was the single most terrifying moment of Rosalind Ying’s life. The fresh air didn’t quite mask her situation but she knew she now had hope. After what seemed like an age the light from above was blocked out and for a second Rosalind thought her reprieve was only temporary. But it had been Mary Clark. She had lifted one of the doors from the toilet cubicles free from its hinges. They were flimsy but long enough to use as a ladder down into the gloom. Rosalind used the bolts at the side of the door for a foothold and after several unsuccessful attempts she emerged like a swamp rat at feeding time. The two women looked at each other.
“You know you’ll have to come in after this Mary,” Rosalind said, “but what you’ve done now will be taken note of in court. For now, though, I need your help.”
Mary nodded and raised the gun. “Thanks for the pep talk but for now you’ll do as I say – let’s go.”
Mary ushered Rosalind back out of the block and the two made their way outside.
“They were right here,” Mary said.
“Who were?”
“Onur and Hanom – Onur was shot.”
“There,” Rosalind said, pointing to the house, “I think I saw movement inside.”
Mary shook the gun at Rosalind, “Let’s go.”
***
>
Sandy Stirrit told the editor that he needed the satellite truck and that tonight they would have the scoop of the year. He had been vague on the details but had convinced the team there was something in his phone call from Madoch. After a few carefully phrased questions the police had pointed them in the same direction and while it might come to nothing they decided that they could not risk missing out to the competition. Now driving down the M8 Sandy hoped he had made the right call. He would be at the farm in 20 minutes.
***
Karim dragged Onur back into the house with the help of Hanom, who had decided not to argue with the gun. He dumped him beside Arbogast who was still out cold. Onur sat with his back to the wall, his eyes boring into his brother with a growing hatred.
“Just like the old days brother,” Karim said.
“What is this all about? I feel this charade has run its course. What is it you want with my family?”
“With your family? Well there’s a thing. Do you remember those summer days, years ago when we three were inseparable.”
Hanom watched, edging closer to her husband, nervous about what might be about to happen.
“How we laughed and planned the adventures we would have. Hanom here only had eyes for me in those days, but fate had a different plan.”
“Get to the point Karim.”
“The point is that there’s been a grand deception playing out in our lives, a deception which runs to the core of your supposed family – a deception which has brought us here. Hanom, our daughter is in the next room.” Hanom’s eyes widened, “Bring her to her father.” Hanom looked at Onur, who could see that her eyes had welled up. She turned and left.
“You see Onur I never liked that you took my place at Hanom’s side. She was my prize, not yours, but when you proposed, well it seemed to change things. And all on the night of her 18th birthday – you’ll remember it well. You were a laughing stock.”
“You weren’t there. What happened was fate.”
Karim laughed, “Fate yes, but not the way you think. I came to Hanom that night and on many others too. I am not accustomed to people saying no to me and I made the situation quite clear. The child is mine, Onur. Kovan is my daughter not yours. All these years you have been the family man, admired and respected while people have feared me. Where is the justice you might ask? But the last laugh is mine. This has all been for you, for my revenge and for what will be my family.”
Onur was speechless. Hanom and Kovan had appeared at the door. Hanom held Kovan with both arms draped around her chest from behind, holding her close. It was Kovan who spoke first.
“Daddy Karim has been keeping me in a tower. He says I’m his little princess but I did miss you and mummy. Now we can all live together.” She looked up at Hanom who was staring at Onur.
Hanom broke the silence, “I could not tell you for shame my love. He came in the night and threatened your life. He said he would say nothing if I agreed. It has been a dreadful secret but it is you that has been Kovan’s father, not this...animal,” she spat at Karim but he didn’t move.
“All this time Karim and you knew. Were you so consumed with hate? Everything that has happened: the assassination in Istanbul, our flight into hiding – all that just to get to me. I don’t understand.”
“I am connected brother and I can disappear. We all can and you certainly will.”
Arbogast had come round now but he lay still with his eyes closed – listening, trying to think of a way out.
“Look around brother and what do you see? Nothing but the seeds of your own work. Do you know the police are looking for you? They think you are me, such is our likeness.”
“We are nothing alike.”
“I have never thought so, but perhaps I have been wrong. Many people have confused us for each other, even the policewoman. She should have died but the mistake was to my advantage. It all comes back to your notion of fate.”
Karim pointed the gun, “Game over.”
Sanderson felt like death. He had lain looking up at the ceiling unable to move for some time. His body ached. He had been beaten and shot, fortunate the bullet had passed straight through, missing his heart. Slowly and painfully he turned himself over and made his way back to the surface. Raking through his bedroom chest he found what he needed and made his way back to the family home for what he knew would be the last time.
“Move,” Mary said, the gun pointed in the small of Rosalind’s back. Rosalind was nervous, unsure of how she was going to get free. She could see they were going to the farmhouse and watched for signs of life inside. The back door was open. She focused on the bronze hexagonal handle, looking for a possible break, but Mary was focused on Rosalind and before they reached the door she swung the gun again and knocked her down. Checking that she was out cold Mary took out her handcuffs and bound the detective before entering the house. Slipping in through the front door Mary stood unheard in the hall and listened. She heard the story from brother to brother and understood what she had become part of. Mary watched as Karim pointed and said “Game over.” Standing perfectly still she aimed and fired. The shot left only a small hole in the back of his head but the front was blown away, the contents smeared over the floor, with thin rivulets of blood sprayed onto the Kocack women.
Arbogast knew that if he was going to do anything now was the time – but he was badly concussed and the events of the next few minutes would spin by in a blur. Onur sprang forward and prised the gun from Karim’s hand. At the same time the walking corpse of Eric Sanderson crashed through the door brandishing a large hunting knife. Mary turned, surprised as Eric plunged the knife deep into her chest. Mary’s eyes bulged in disbelief as father and daughter collapsed to the floor. Onur stood having retrieved his brother’s gun. Perhaps he had meant to attack his brother but he was now very dead and getting cold. Outside Arbogast could see the outline of two uniforms coming up the hill. ‘Here comes the cavalry – they must have been sent back from the ruin.’ Mary was lying on her side, a thick pool of blood was beginning to form around her and her father now had her gun. It was pointing at Arbogast.
“Time’s up officer, for me anyway. Take the family and go.”
Onur had been staring hopelessly at the lifeless figure of his brother. He raised the gun to point at Sanderson.
“This was your doing my friend.”
“No Onur I was only told to keep you here. The child was a mistake and I can say nothing to make that better. But this is the end of the road for me. My family line ends here.” With his free hand he took out a single stick of dynamite. He motioned to the crack in the floor by way of explanation, “There are five more planted in the foundations. I have been in the pocket of Madoch for years. He came to me in the 80s after finding out about my secret, but he was good to me. I hid people here during the dark days and he allowed me to indulge in my...well I make no excuses. The heart wants what the heart wants. I am what I am and I don’t expect you to understand.”
Arbogast stood up, holding the side where he had been shot, and made his way over to Onur.
“Give me the gun,” he said, softly, laying his hand on Onur’s wrist, edging towards the warm steel of the chamber.
“It’s over. You have your family and he’s going with me.”
Onur released the gun and Arbogast stood back.
“We’re leaving now Eric.”
Eric nodded as Hanom took Kovan through the front door, the girl’s hand reached out for Onur who followed silently. Arbogast stood and watched Eric Sanderson for a few seconds. He had raised Mary’s head onto his lap and sat stroking her hair. She looked happy.
“I’ve made too many mistakes but this was my worst, allowing that man to corrupt that family. I have no more words.”
“You can’t leave here, you know that.”
Sanderson nodded.
Arbogast turned and left, leaving the Sanderson family alone, for the last time. Sanderson took a cigarette lighter from his pocket and waited.
; The timber had stood firm for 160 years. Today the wooden supports creaked and groaned under the increasing pressure of earth and rock from above. Melted ice dripped through fissures and slowly weakened the limestone. The land had started to reclaim the house the previous winter and the great thaw of 2010 meant that the bedrock under the Sanderson Farm could no longer take the strain. Above the chasm and inside the house, Eric Sanderson lit the fuse and shared a final tender moment with his daughter as the flame worked its way down towards its final destination.
Sandy Stirrit’s TV crew arrived as Arbogast emerged from the farmhouse. Sandy stopped when the explosion hit. The house quivered briefly before disappearing under its own weight into a cloud of rubble, filling the void below.
“Get the camera on now,” he said, but the tripod was already down and the camera had caught every moment. Watching TV that night the pictures caused a sensation. The report also featured aerial shots, taken later in the day, which showed the extent of the blast after the dust had settled. Where the farm had stood was now a one hundred foot crater, the house reduced to nothing – the landscape transformed. Sandy Stirrit told his viewers about sinkholes caused by mine workings. Footage from earlier in the day showed five people being taken to hospital. One was understood to be the missing girl.
As the ambulance pulled away Arbogast allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep. Exhausted he consoled himself with the fact that at the very least he had found the girl this time. He had found the girl but failed to solve the case.
Epilogue
Daily Record, February 24th 2010
EXPLOSION UNCOVERS PAEDO RING
The 5 year old young girl missing from a bus in Lanarkshire two weeks ago has been found along with her mother and father following an explosion at a farmhouse near Bishopton, Renfrewshire. Kovan Kocack, Hanom Kocack (36) and Onur Kocack (43) had been held prisoner in an underground sex lair at a farm, which has been used by an international paedophile ring. Chief Constable at Strathclyde Police, Norrie Smith, said this marked the successful conclusion of the largest manhunt in living memory, “This is the end of a massive search for a missing girl, which has uncovered a circle of sickening human trafficking that sadly is becoming more and more common. I am pleased that we have reunited a family torn apart by a criminal gang. We have had our best people working on this and I would like to thank everyone involved for their tireless dedication.”
Wilderness (Arbogast trilogy) Page 23