The House on Rectory Lane

by Stuart James

  Her first thought. She needed to get out. Panic set in. Shelly struggled to breathe. The place was ice cold. Dank. Rancid. The urine stench was unbearable. Rats’ piss. She stepped in some sort of mush, like quicksand, only her leg came straight out. She screamed. Small cries followed by pleading. No one answered her call. Her phone died hours ago. She walked along the basement floor. It seemed well insulated. The light faded the further she made her way down and Shelly pulled a lighter from the inside of her coat. After a few seconds, the flame began to burn her hand. The heat. Too much the bear. Shelly released the catch, the flame died, and the place went dark. She dropped to her knees and curled into a ball.

  ∞∞∞∞ On the drive from London to Ramsbury, Jason Prescott wondered what on earth could have happened since he had last spoken to the Ramsbury officers to warrant the call he had received yesterday. He had done everything in his power to find Mark and his family when they had first disappeared. He had kissed his wife, Karen, goodbye that morning with a promise to call her as soon as he had any information and that he would be back by Sunday – he had no choice but to be back in work on Monday, not if he wanted to keep his job.

  ∞∞∞∞ Shelly hadn’t slept. How could she? After hours of pacing up and down, the darkness getting darker. The smell deeper in her lungs. She was sure it was early morning. Not lunchtime yet. The gas inside the lighter had emptied. She spun the wheel frantically in the hope a flame would appear then hurled it against the wall. Her mobile was dead. There were urine marks down the back of her jeans. Her thumb blistered. She rolled her forefinger over it continuously. She screamed out. Her voice box felt like it had been ripped out. She whispered to herself, ‘Got to get out. Can’t stay here. I’m gonna get out. You’ll see. Bastard. You’ve picked on the wrong girl.’

  She heard the door open. Shelly froze. Then it closed. She couldn’t tell if someone was in the house. Should she shout for help? She had to. Nothing else to do.

  ‘Hello! I’m down here! In the basement!’ Nothing. ‘I’m down here. Can you let me out? Someone help me.’ She heard the thick boots first. Pounding on the floor. She thought the basement would cave in. Shelly held her breath. They were standing over the trap door. She couldn’t escape. Nowhere to go. His grand entrance. The lid slung back, light blinding her as she held her hand over her face. It took a couple of minutes to adjust. She heard a shuffle, metal clanging; they were dropping a ladder or something like it into the hole. She heard the steps getting closer. Then darkness again. He placed a hood over her head and was now circling thick rope around her neck. It felt heavy duty, like an abseiler would use to hold themselves to the side of a rock. She struggled to talk. To breathe.

  ‘Please. Why are you doing this?’ He lifted her up the ladder over his shoulder. This was the last anyone would see of her in Ramsbury. Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Adam. It’s Jake. AGAIN. This is message number five. Call me.’ Jake paced the hall.

  ‘Bloody arse wipe.’ He went back into the kitchen. ‘You nearly finished, kiddo?’ ‘Daddy, what’s an arse wipe?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue. That’s not what I said. Hurry and eat your breakfast. You’ve been sat

  there for ages Mr.’

  He headed up to Kate who had been making the beds.

  ‘Well. We got through the night,’ he said as he placed the drink on the side. She stretched. ‘What are we going to do, Jake? Really.’

  ‘It will work out. Trust me.’

  ‘How do you know? We’re not safe here.’

  ‘What are you suggesting? That we pack up. Leave. Go back to London?’ ‘I’m not saying that, Jake. Maybe we just need to get away. The three of us. Get out of this

  house for a while.’

  ‘What, and let them win? I’m not leaving Kate. No one is running us out of our home.’ He went back down. His phone rang a few minutes later. It was Adam. Jake gave him a mouthful. Kate heard him from upstairs. ‘Right. OK. Well, you need to come over straight away and sort it then, don’t you?’ A pause. Jake again.

  ‘I don’t give a shit about your other jobs. I’ve paid good money to have a safe home, and at the moment it’s a bloody free for all.’ Another pause.

  ‘Make sure you do.’ He hung up.

  ‘What a tosser.’

  ∞∞∞∞ When Jason arrived at the station, Reynolds showed him to a private interview room. Cutting out the pleasantries, he asked if his brother’s family had been found. Not wanting to give too much away, Reynolds asked him what had happened, in his own words, when they disappeared.

  ‘They just vanished into thin air. I came up to help hunt for them, but they were nowhere to be found. I did all I could to keep the village interested, newspaper stories, TV interviews, poster drops … I stayed for weeks, but eventually, I had to go back to my own family and, as understanding as my boss was, I had to get back to work. I’m surprised he’s let me come today, to be honest. Please, tell me, what’s this about?’

  ‘OK … Do you recognise this DVD?’ ‘Mark and Julie were always filming the family. They had tons of home movies. What’s so special about this one?’

  ‘I’m going to play a section of it for you, and I’d like you to tell me if it’s the normal type of movie they would make.’

  Looking a few shades paler than he had on arrival, Jason agreed. Once the film ended, he looked even paler.

  ∞∞∞∞ They’d been watching the monitor. The elderly lady arriving at the house. Visiting. Possibly the mum. A reunion. The police arrived again later that night. Too close. They had to get out of the house temporarily. Until the heat was off them. Now. Move. But not far. They had to clean the place and fast. There couldn’t be any trace.

  They always carried out a proper job. Not a speck left. Ever. The new place wasn’t far. It would be perfect. Ready to go. When it was safe, they moved and brought the girl with them.

  ∞∞∞∞ Jason had gone back to the hotel after meeting with the officers this morning. Once he’d checked in and unpacked his bag, he ran a bath. He called his wife to let her know he had arrived safely. ‘How was the journey?’

  ‘It was all right. The usual traffic but nothing I couldn’t cope with. Get the kids to call me when they come home from school, will you?’

  ‘Will do. When are you back?’

  ‘I’d say on Sunday. I need to talk when I return. Something I found out today. I can’t say it over the phone.’

  ‘OK, Jason. Be careful.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Jason lent back and let the water soak away the stress. The room was ample. Double bed. Ensuite. Large flat screen with cable. Hair dryer. Not that he’d use it.

  He received a call to his mobile later in the day. He’d been chilling on the bed watching a repeat of some American detective show. The number showed on his screen, but he didn’t recognise it.

  ‘Hello. Jason speaking.’ No one spoke. He waited for a minute and then hung up. The number rang back straight away. As he lifted it to his ear, he heard a scream. He could make out someone running on a wooden floor.

  ‘Who is this?’ Jason suddenly realised what the tape recording was. It hit him like a table across the head. They hung up, and Jason immediately dialled the call return.

  The number was dead. Again, he dialled. Dead. He wanted to call the police. Jason feared they’d think he was paranoid. Just arriving and already complaining about prank calls.

  Who the hell made that call and what did they know?

  He tried numerous times to call the number, but it was the same result. Turned off? Airplane mode? Battery dead? Who knows.

  He had to find out where his brother and family were.

  He spent the evening in town. The officers were doing their job. No doubt. He had to have faith in them, but he needed to do his own digging. Yes, it was dangerous. Jason didn’t know what he could face. What he may find out. He was there for a reason. He left the hotel with fliers showing a picture of Mark, Julie, and their children. He needed to try and get an
swers.

  ∞∞∞∞ Later that evening, a call came through to the station.

  ‘Police, how can I help?’

  ‘Yes. Hi. My name’s Tony.’

  ‘Yes. How can I help?’

  She could hear him in the background, ‘No, darling. Give it more oomph. Rise your chest

  when you say it. Be proud, baby.’

  The officer repeated, ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Sorry, sweetie. My friend is missing. That’s it. Let it go, baby. Now you have it.’ ‘Sir? Did you say your friend is missing?’

  Tony stepped out to the back kitchen of the drama room.

  ‘Yes. Shelly Greenwood. She never misses rehearsal. She’s the lead character you see. Such

  a darling.’

  ‘Have you tried calling her?’

  ‘All day. I even called the pub where she works, and she hasn’t turned up there either. Most

  peculiar. She’s irreplaceable.’

  ‘OK. I’ll get someone to check it out.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you can sing?’

  She’d already hung up.

  ∞∞∞∞ The controller radioed an officer a few seconds later. Police officer Emma Styles took down the details, ‘We’re on it.’ She headed over to the address with her partner, Ryan Barns. They were lower rank officers, but both had high ambitions. They were relatively new to the force, young and full of confidence. Ryan had graduated a little before Emma, and they knew each other from training school.

  Although they’d never spoken much or hung around in the same groups, it wasn’t a problem to either of them to now work together.

  He was twenty-three, tall, dark-haired and still lived at home with his parents.

  Emma was much shorter, twenty-two, always seemed to wear her short blonde hair in a bob and lived alone in a one bed flat in town, overlooking the local chip shop. The grease smell was something she would never get used to.

  They made their way over to the drama school. Tony was a flamboyant character, to say the least. Jumping around the place, arms waving extravagantly. The officers went over to him and made their way out the back. Once they had a statement, they told him they’d be in touch if anything developed.

  ‘It’s probably nothing, but we need to check it out. Perhaps she’s unwell and at home in bed.’

  ‘I do hope you’re right officers. I couldn’t bear it if something has happened.’

  His hand was up at his brow. He turned to Ryan. ‘You, are so cute. Here. Take my number. I’m single and ready to mingle baby.’

  Styles looked to Barns who had turned scarlet.

  ‘Go on. How can you refuse?’ She said.

  He got up and on the way out laughed, ‘I’m taken bacon.’

  Outside they got into the car. ‘Can you believe him?’

  ‘I thought he was cute,’ she laughed.

  They got back on the radio and asked the controller for Shelly’s address. Barns punched it into the sat nav. There was only one road out to her house. As they turned the corner, a car appeared to have been abandoned in the ditch. They looked at each other. They coned off the area and tried to divert anyone back to where they came from. The car was empty and the driver’s door open. Barns got back on the radio. He asked the controller to run the registration plate. It was Shelly Greenwood’s car. The crime scene unit arrived a short while afterwards. They set everything up in the darkness. Floodlights. Tent. Yellow tape. Cones. They weren’t taking any chances. They swept the area for evidence. Officers Styles and Barns waited for any information that could be given by the CSI team. One of the members of the unit found two sets of footprints. One pair much smaller than the other. There were also slight tyre track marks.

  Styles went over and called for one of the crime scene officers flashing her badge as the guy approached.

  She noticed how cold he looked in his white overalls. His lips had a dark purple colour, and his nose was slightly running.

  ‘I’m Officer Styles, can you tell me what we have?’

  ‘Neil Crawford,’ he said as he pulled a notepad from his inside pocket.

  ‘This is the car of the missing girl. We found it like this. We’re taking footprint casts as we speak. As you can imagine, you get a lot of hikers out here. Boot and trainer marks everywhere. The two we have are good impressions of which appear to have been made the most recent.’

  He shone his torch towards the left side car door, then continued.

  ‘We have huge boot prints leading from the middle of the road. The same leading away.’

  He shone the light at fresh tyre tracks further down on the other side. ‘These are also newly made. We can’t be certain due to the number of vehicles that come along this stretch, but it looks like a possible abduction.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  Crawford looked at the female officer.

  ‘Let me show you something that concerns me the most.’

  He led her fifty or so yards up the narrow lane, waving his torch side to side.

  ‘We are thinking these are the same tyre tracks for the missing girl. She hit her brakes roughly around here, look, see the track print? Again, we won’t know for certain until they’re tested?

  Styles nodded.

  ‘Further down, past the car, it’s possible someone may have been lying on the road with the impressions we have. She pressed the brakes, and hasn’t been seen since. It does look like someone was lying in wait. She must have gotten out of the car for some crazy reason, and then whoever may have been out here, could have grabbed her and made off. Fingerprints and indents visible on the UV light in the dirt track on the ground are making us think along these lines, we’re sampling this area for blood, fingerprints, saliva. There are also cigarette butts and chewing gum. It won’t be easy finding anything relevant due to the car being here for some time.’ Barns had been listening and was standing just behind Styles.

  He asked, ‘Why the hell would she stop? Unless they were somehow blocking the road.’

  ‘That’s what we need to find out, it’s going to be tricky as the car has been here for a while but hopefully, we will get what we need,’ replied Crawford.

  When they’d finished, Styles suggested to call over to Shelly’s house.

  Crawford guided them around the side of the abandoned car, and they headed off.

  They radioed in to let the handler know they were going to Shelly’s house, made sure they had the correct details and Barns put the address in the sat nav. The narrow road turned sharply to the right, and the lane become even tighter. Barns turned to his partner. ‘How could anyone live in such seclusion?’

  ‘Beats me.’

  Styles forced the accelerator and moved a gear down, hearing the crunch.

  ‘Steady,’ he laughed.

  A row of raised houses stretched along the road, with a lake at the end. Shelly’s house was the second last on the left. They pulled in to the side of the road and headed up the steps. Most of the lights were out except for a couple of dim glowing bulbs they assumed were bedside lights from other neighbours. Shelly’s place was lifeless.

  The doorbell chimed a deep, ding dong, like something from a church bell. After a minute or so, they pressed again and then Barns wrapped the knocker. Barns pulled out a torch and shone it straight through the property. The living room lit up; picture frames sat on a cabinet, a worn brown sofa pressed up against a wall, newspapers stacked in a rack, a bronze, star-shaped clock with sharp spikes. No sign of Shelly. Although it was late, they tried a couple of the neighbours. Both sides proclaimed they hadn’t heard from Shelly for a few days, but that had been normal as she was always out and about. Styles called in on the radio to let the handler know the progression and to organise a locksmith.

  They’d already worked over twelve hours. They had other officers taking over, working on it through the night. She needed a drink badly. ‘Fancy a swift one?’

  ‘Well. I did have plans with Tony tonight, but I’m sure he won’t mind.’<
br />
  ‘Come on then. My shout.’

  ∞∞∞∞ Jason had enough for the day. He’d been handing out fliers, speaking with the locals, and asking shopkeepers to display his missing post. Most obliged and even sympathised with his efforts, recalling how popular the family were. A couple of places coldheartedly asked for money in return for the window space. He hadn’t been fortunate today. He was hoping for more information, someone hearing something. No matter how small. Anything would help.

  He headed back to the hotel. He needed a shave, shower and a drink at the bar. He called his family and got speaking to his kids. They told him about their day; he was filled in regarding a fight at lunchtime, a teacher handing out detentions willy-nilly, and a ruckus on the bus getting home. Once he told his family he loved and missed them; he went down to the resident’s bar. The place was quiet. Jason didn’t expect a rave but thought there’d be a few people about. He spotted a family eating at a back table. The father, spooning mouthfuls of spaghetti into his gob. Stained orange lips and a serviette hanging from the top of his chest. His wife and kids on their phones. The bartender was a young Spanish lad who was wiping glasses with a tea towel.

  ‘Evening. What can I get you?’ Jason eyed up the draught. ‘I’ll have a pint of that one please,’ he said, getting comfy on one of the bar stools.

  ‘Coming up, sir.’

  ‘Evening all!’ A new voice boomed as the waiter passed Jason his drink. ‘Wow. It’s throwing it down out there.’ The man said as he shook his coat off and hung it on the back of the stool next to Jason’s. ‘Nico. Good to meet you. Business or pleasure?’