‘Were my parents targeted? I picked up on something Paul said in the car, that this gang are suspected of making a living out of people like my parents.’
‘We have a number of theories, Louise. One of those is that they were targeted by a gang who prey on vulnerable people in isolated locations.’
‘Vulnerable? My parents don’t strike me as vulnerable—’
‘Sorry, that doesn’t sound right. It’s a police term, we tend to categorise the elderly as vulnerable, not because it is true in every case, but because a criminal would. If they saw your parent’s home, the Range Rover on the drive, the nice frontage and they saw your mum or dad coming or going they might assume it to be easy pickings. They were wrong, clearly. Your dad refused to lie down.’
Louise pursed her lips and then said, ‘If only he had.’
George shrugged. ‘Maybe this wouldn’t have happened, but maybe it would. Certainly your dad is beating himself up about it and that isn’t helping the situation at all.’
‘I understand what you’re saying, Inspector. I’m not here to point fingers or to criticise. Who knows what he was going through up there. It must have hit him hard. There’s no way my dad does . . . well . . . does that. He would be the last man, I would say—’
‘Grief. It does strange things to the best of us. We just need to be sure we are there for him.’
‘If we get the chance.’
‘When hope is all you have, hope is all you can do. Forgive me, but I get the impression that your dad is a tough old bastard. I told him that myself. He didn’t disagree!’
‘I’m sure he didn’t. And, yes, I think that’s a very good summary.’
The door behind was pushed open. George turned.
‘Inspector Elms?’ A tall, well-spoken man in his mid-fifties approached. He wore a checked shirt tucked into chinos and glasses. George had met enough doctors to spot one immediately.
‘Yes, doctor.’
‘Do you have a moment?’
‘Of course.’ George turned back to Louise. ‘Forgive me, I’ll just be a moment.’
George stepped out of the room and followed the doctor who walked a few feet up the corridor and leant against the wall.
‘Is there news?’ George said.
‘Yes. Good news. Our patient, Mr Wingmore, is awake.’
George couldn’t stop the smile — it was relief mainly. ‘That is good news. How is he?’
‘It’s all rather early, Inspector, as you can appreciate. We did very little, to be honest, on his arrival here. The swift actions of whoever found him and worked him initially have given him a fighting chance. We continued with his oxygen treatment and he woke up of his own accord. We have carried out some initial scans on his brain but I will want to do some more detailed tests, especially as he is now back in the land of the living. And, if I’m honest, Inspector, he’s very lucky to be here.’
‘I guess I should just be thankful for that.’
‘We all should. I would normally speak to the next of kin first, but I understand the circumstances around this matter are a little different. If Mr Wingmore is a suspect in a murder case then I know the police get a little upset with relatives speaking to them without the police present. It’s up to you how you handle that. I obviously have to go in and talk to his daughter straight away. This was just a little pre-warning.’
‘I do appreciate that, doctor, but Mr Wingmore is not a suspect. He was a witness, he’s taken it rather hard as you can imagine. I have recently established that he might be a far more important witness than any of us realised. Do you think I might be able to speak with him soon?’
‘You might. But I should warn you, Inspector, he is suffering the effects of his ordeal. He is coping with confusion and memory loss — short term at least. He is also sight deficient in at least one of his eyes. That’s a preliminary check. It’s highly likely that more symptoms will be discovered when he gets up and moving.’
‘Permanent?’
‘It can be. More likely short term. I have been studying and working on the human brain for over twenty years and I still find much of my time is spent shrugging at relatives, saying the words we just don’t know. More than once I’ve considered what my life might have been like if I had specialised in teeth.’
‘I guess you know where you are with teeth, doctor.’
‘You do. They are rotten, they are broken or they are not. The brain, by contrast, is a baffling and complex ball of utter pig-headedness. The one thing you can be sure of, however, is that if you treat it badly, deny it something it needs, like oxygen — even for a minute — it will have its revenge. Every case will be different.’
‘So, the memory loss . . . does he know why he is here?’
‘No. Not a clue. I’d better go update the daughter. Oh — and another thing you should be aware of Inspector . . . he is asking for his wife.’
Chapter 22
The van stopped moving and the engine was cut. Jenny sat up and pushed herself against the back of the van. She stared at the double doors in front, at the slit of light that was visible around the handle. There was nothing but silence. She waited for what seemed like an hour but was probably only half that. The doors didn’t open and all was quiet. Finally she moved. She felt the back door then pushed her eye up to where the sunlight was leaking through. All she could see was another panel of metal that blocked out her view of anything else. She could hear gulls; they were loud and raucous and she was sure one had landed on the van. She could hear its flat feet slapping against the metal as it walked the length of the roof above her. She tried the door handle. It didn’t budge.
More time passed. Jenny couldn’t be sure how long, but the harsh white slash of sunlight seemed to have dimmed, suggesting that the sun had moved significantly in the sky. She started calling out. Not loudly at first, just enough for someone close by to be able to hear her. She grew quickly in confidence and her voice got louder until she was shouting at the top of her voice and banging with all her might on the metal sides.
Nobody came.
The slash of light was all but gone completely when she accepted finally that no one was coming to help. She collapsed back onto the floor and waited. Eventually, she drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. Suddenly she heard a voice.
‘You need to put the bag on. Like I told you.’ The voice was muffled through the door, but Jenny recognised it as the man at the hotel room, the man who had brought her this far. She sat up and rubbed at her arms and legs. They felt cold and numb.
‘What for?’ she called out, her voice hoarse, her throat raw from shouting.
‘You don’t need to be asking me any questions. Just do it — or you can stay in there and rot.’
‘I’ll stay in here then.’
‘Put the hood on, Jenny. That’s the last time I ask nicely.’
Jenny scrabbled around on the floor. She felt the bundle of cloth and pulled it over her head. ‘Done.’
The doors opened almost instantly and she was aware of a bright light shining directly at her, reaching through the weave of the bag. The light seemed directed and artificial — a torch maybe? She felt rough arms grab her and pull her out. She reckoned there was more than one man — at least two. She tried to stand on her own feet but she was unsteady; her legs were riddled with pins and needles. She couldn’t walk properly. Something was wrapped around her neck, the bag suddenly pulled tight. Her hands were pulled behind her back and held so that she couldn’t move them. There was no time for her legs to recover; she was simply dragged away from the van. She didn’t even bother to complain. The bag wasn’t quite tight enough and Jenny could see an inch or two if she looked straight down. She could see her feet shuffling over dark stone that was buffed so it reflected the artificial light. She could be sure it was dark. She could no longer hear the call of the gulls but she could hear the movement of a body of water. The breeze that lightly pushed her clothing against her chest also wafted up her nose and it was tinged with sal
t and the scents of the sea.
‘Where are you taking me?’ She got no reply, just a shove to quicken her pace. She’d walked a good distance when the terrain underfoot changed. She could see a steel mesh beneath her and, below that, dark waves lapped against thick concrete legs. This was a pier or a harbour breakwater. Instinctively she pulled back against the men who held her arm. They pushed harder in reply.
‘Don’t be stupid now, love. You don’t want to piss me off.’ A different voice: harsher and deeper than the man she had been conversing with since the hotel. A few more seconds and she was brought to a stop. She felt pressure on her shoulders, pushing her down. She fell to a sitting position. The bag was still tight round her head. Jenny’s body was suddenly so tense that she couldn’t move. Her legs were straight out in front of her. Someone reached down and grabbed them roughly. She was spun where she sat. She could just see out of the bottom of her hood still, only just — enough to see she that she was right on the edge of the pier, side-on to the water. She thought for just a second that this was it: they were going to push her in sideways. They didn’t. Instead she was held firmly by the ankles. She felt something wrap around them that was pulled sharply tight — too tight. Her ankles were shot through with pain and she screamed out.
‘Give over, love. We ain’t even started yet!’ A new voice. Then laughter. She felt her legs pushed back around so that she was facing back the way she started. The bag was tugged from her head. It hurt her nose and pulled her hair as it lifted.
Jenny blinked. The breeze in her face and the artificial light meant it took a second to focus. She was sitting on the edge of the pier. She recognised it immediately: Langthorne’s harbour arm. They had walked it as a family just a few days earlier. It jutted out into the English Channel. The old port on the east side was hidden behind a tall stone wall and there was a sandy beach on the west side — the side she was facing. It had restaurants and bars down its length, but they were open only at the weekends. She’d learnt that the hard way. It was all silent now. She didn’t know what time it was but the night was well established. The sea was calm but, at some 600 metres out, the surface still bobbed and frothed. The water seemed to repel the artificial light of the arm from its surface rather than reflect it. It had a black infinity to it. It was terrifying.
Jenny tried to get her breathing under control. She felt surrounded. She had her head and her eyes down; she didn’t want to look around, to make eye contact, to antagonise anyone. They were speaking amongst themselves. She wasn’t tuned into the words. Someone stood next to her, close enough to be touching her left side.
‘Please, I don’t know what this is about. I don’t know why you want me here. What do you want from me?’ she sobbed. The sobs were sudden; she hadn’t been expecting them herself.
‘We don’t need anything from you!’ Another voice, this time behind her. She heard footsteps walk round to her right. ‘Look at me, Jenny.’ Jenny turned her head but she kept her eyes down. She was aware of where the man was standing; she saw his dark trousers. ‘I said LOOK AT ME!’ The sudden increase in volume caught her out; she jerked her head up and her tears now fell freely.
‘What do you want from me?’ she said again. It was all she could manage. The man walked away from her. He bent down. Jenny noticed someone else on the edge that she hadn’t noticed before. Their figure was lying down, a long back towards her. She narrowed her eyes to try and pick out some detail in the gloom just as the figure was grabbed by the shoulders and pulled into a sit. The man’s head hung as if he wasn’t conscious. Faint light fell on him as he was turned towards her.
‘Joseph!’ Jenny put her hand to her mouth; she hadn’t meant to say anything but she couldn’t stop the words.
‘So we were right!’ the man replied. Joseph moaned and his eyes flickered open. They were still rolled back. Another man bent down; he leaned over the edge and pulled something up on a rope. Jenny could see it was a bucket. He immediately tipped its contents over Joseph. Joseph reacted: he shouted without making sense; his head snapped up; his eyes opened and he shivered violently; his mouth gaped open and he rushed large gulps of air.
‘Yo, Joe! Guess what? Your girlfriend’s here!’ Joseph’s head moved from side to side. Finally he settled on looking over in her direction. His head leaked blood, the water had washed him but already he had a thick stream of red down his left side and over his ear. His eyes were severely swollen and his face was peppered with a red, bloody rash. His lips were swollen and blood trickled from his mouth. It was smeared on his teeth too when he grimaced.
‘I don’t know her! You boys messed up.’ He immediately looked away, out over the sea.
‘Oh really? Seems she knows you, Joe. She said your name the second she saw you. And look at her now! She looks like she’s seen a ghost!’ The man moved towards Jenny, his eyes fixed on her. He crouched down so he was more on her level. ‘You really don’t know what’s going on, do you? I got a good nose for these things, see.’
‘No.’ Jenny shook her head; her nose dripped with moisture. She tried to look beyond the crouching man to Joseph. He was leaning away from her now and seemed to be vomiting.
‘Well, that’s not fair, is it? I know who you are, Jenny, so you should know who I am. My name, well what everyone calls me, is Jimmy, and I’m a man who runs a business. I have employees, Jenny, as any business does, and Joseph, here, is one of my employees. He is the cash man, Jenny. He looks after the cash, makes sure it stays safe. My relationship with Joe here is based on trust — much like yours, I would imagine. Does it bother you if I say that Joe here is not someone you can trust?’
Jenny shook her head and sobbed quietly. Joseph still wasn’t looking over.
‘Joseph here is not an honest man. I guess I knew that. You see we all go out and we take from the rich. Like Robin Hood only with a better business model. ’Ere boys, Jimmy Hood! You havin’ that?’
Jenny heard some sniggers. She couldn’t tell how many people were around her in total.
‘So we don’t give any of it away, obviously. Joseph, though, has been taking what he wants from off the top. Skimming, I think you call it. Maybe I shouldn’t hire thieves and then be upset when they steal, right? But I’m here to ask for what is mine to be returned — that is all. I have already asked, of course, and so far he has not been willing to help.’ The man stood back up. ‘I wonder if he will be more willing to help now that you are here? Assuming he knows who you are, of course!’ Jimmy chuckled. He turned away to face Joseph. Jenny took in Jimmy’s form. He was tall and solidly built. In the dimly lit environment she could still pick out dark hair and dark features overall.
‘I don’t know anything.’ Jenny called out to his back. ‘I just want to go and get my daughter. Joseph, whatever this is about, whatever you have, give it back. Just give it back, Joseph, so we can go home.’
Jimmy turned back to face her. ‘Well, now, I didn’t say that, did I? And the child is something else that Joseph had been keeping from me, but then I can understand why. If you are going to steal from a man like me then I suppose you best keep quiet about your family. Or at least not use them to hide what you steal — right, Joseph?’ Jimmy grabbed Joseph’s hair. He pulled it firmly so that his head faced up. ‘Your mother would probably agree, don’t you think? If she could, of course.’ He let go of Joseph’s hair and his head lolled forward. Jimmy moved back towards Jenny and he stepped over her outstretched legs.
‘Here we are then, Joe!’ Jimmy called out, then made an exaggerated grunt as if he was straining. Jenny looked up to see that he was holding something that took both his hands to lift. It looked to her like an iron dumbbell, but bigger than any she’d seen. Jimmy struggled with the weight before putting it on the ground next to Jenny. She could now see the length of rope that was tied off through its middle. She froze. The rope was short, just enough for it to fold back on itself, but it finished around her ankles. Joseph looked over and he saw it too. His eyes flashed wide. A man appeared
on the other side of him; he was holding an identical dumbbell. He put it down on the ground and it made a heavy, metallic sound against the stone pier. It had a rope tied off round its middle too. Joseph’s ankles were together. They also trailed a length of rope.
‘Jesus, Jimmy!’ Joe groaned. ‘This is nothing to do with her.’
‘I agree, Joe. But this is everything to do with you. You need to make a decision now about what happens next.’
‘What decision? There’s no decision here.’
‘Beating on you did nothing. Threatening to go and get your girlfriend did nothing. So I did it. I’ve brought her here, to the deep sea with a weight tied around her ankles. I don’t think you need me to explain where this ends up next, do you? Unless you now feel like talking.’
‘There’s no choices here, you’re going to do this anyway. You were always going to do it!’ Joseph’s words were rushed suddenly, breathy with panic.
‘You might be right. You were always going to die, Joe. You let me down, and I can’t have people thinking that is okay. It is not okay, Joe. But the missus here . . . she’s your decision.’
Jenny’s attention was dragged to her left where there was movement. The weight scraped against the floor and someone picked it up. They stepped right to the edge, where the water rippled below. She braced herself and held her breath. In front of her was a thick chain that ran between two steel posts, a sort of fence, she reached out and wrapped her arms around it.
‘How long do you think that will help you, Jenny?’ Jimmy leered over at her. ‘You do have a bit of fight in you, though. I’ll give you that. You gave us the right run around. But we have you now, Jenny, and I won’t be giving you an inch.’ His attention turned back to Joseph. ‘So, decision time, Joe.’ Jenny suddenly felt something solid in the back of her head, pushing down. She jerked her head enough to get a view of the man that had been at her hotel holding a pistol to the back of her head. She met his eyes and he stared back. Jenny didn’t reckon she could see a flicker of doubt or of humanity there. He was ready to pull that trigger.
THEN SHE RAN an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist Page 19