by Robert Innes
“It has been suspected for a while that Frost was at it again, attempting to groom somebody into doing his bidding so that person, Tom, was put under police watch after the prison reported what was going on. This happened almost a year and a half ago, just before Frost was moved to Manchester after what had happened the last time he managed to get inside the head of somebody,” Angel continued. “Tom was put under watch and when he moved to Harmschapel, it was agreed that DI Fox would be based here so that she could keep a closer eye on Tom and report back to Manchester.”
“She’s been undercover?” Harrison repeated, his mind whirring. “All this time? Did Matti know?”
“PC Mattison and the rest of Harmschapel police only became aware of DI’s Fox’s true identity this morning,” Angel replied. “Once it had been established that Frost had escaped. She has now returned to Manchester to assist in the investigation to Frost’s disappearance.”
“What has this got to do with Blake though?” Harrison asked. “He said that you were keeping all this a secret from him?”
Angel’s lips thinned as he clasped his hands together. “DS Harte is, I think it’s fair to say, slightly emotive when it comes to Thomas Frost. Clearly, and perfectly understandably, the original investigation into the murders had quite the effect on him and it has been brought to my attention that he has been having a series of dreams that would indicate some form of post traumatic stress. I thought it would be best for all concerned that DS Harte was kept as in the dark on the matter as possible, and the fact that he was due to go on holiday made that all the easier. Of course, now, with Frost’s disappearance, this changes things rather substantially.”
Harrison leant across the desk and stared at Angel levelly. “Is Blake in danger? Is Frost going to try and get to him?”
Angel appeared to sigh and paused before he answered in a quiet voice. “Yes. Given the opportunity, I believe he will. We have no idea where Frost currently is, but it would appear from all the messages we have gathered from Tom Pattison’s phone that DS Harte is very much in his mind. The fact that he appears to have escaped just as DS Harte is in Manchester does concern me. It is not hard to imagine that the two events are connected.”
“How did he escape though?” Harrison asked, his heart now hammering in his chest.
“I wish we knew,” Angel replied. “Judging from the television reports, he was seen climbing into the back of the prison van and then, somewhere in the two hundred odd miles between Manchester and London, he has disappeared.” Angel leaned forwards and stared at Harrison more intently than ever. “It is vital, therefore, that we continue to try and get in contact with DS Harte and tell him that he needs to get himself safe. Whatever Frost is planning would seem to involve him directly. It is my belief, given his behaviour and the messages between himself and Tom that he is looking for a new victim and there is every chance that it will be DS Harte.”
Nine
Blake stared at Fox in disbelief, unable to comprehend what she was telling him.
“DI?” he repeated. “You’re a detective inspector?”
Fox flicked her hair over her shoulder, a slightly more confident smile on her face than Blake had seen before. “Yep. Don’t worry though, Harte. You’ve been a good boss. It was nice to do a few menial tasks again. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you sending me out to deal with that drunk outside The Dog’s Tail. I’ve only just managed to get the smell of vomit out of my uniform.”
A number of questions were trying to burst out of Blake all at once, none of them forming into any sort of initial cohesive sentence.
Behind them, Gresham let out an annoyed grunt. “Well, I suppose this blows the idea of keeping him in the dark.” He stormed around the desk and tapped Blake hard on the shoulder. “You just listen here though, Harte. Just because you’ve taken us by surprise and turned up here, doesn’t mean that you are going to start trampling your size twelve boots everywhere. You are not involved with this. From what I can gather from that weedy thing you call a boss in that puny little village of yours, you’re supposed to be on holiday.”
“Yes,” Sally said bluntly, “to celebrate my thirtieth. That’s the only reason he’s here, otherwise he’d still be in Harmschapel!”
“Well, he can keep his nose out,” Gresham replied. “It’s for his own good. There’s nothing to be gained from him investigating Frost’s disappearance. It’ll just make things more complicated.”
“If anything, he could help,” argued Sally. “Me and Blake dealt with Frost when he was first arrested, Blake probably knows him better than any officer. It wasn’t that long ago that they saw each other again.”
“Yes, and some poor woman that you’d already saved ended up getting herself strangled!” Gresham argued back hotly. “Harte stays out of this, that’s the end of it!”
“Can you both stop talking about me like I’m not in the room?” Blake cut in. He turned back to Fox. “I think, at the very least, you owe me some sort of explanation as to why you’ve been playing undercover cop in my station.”
Fox glanced at Gresham who looked as though he was ready to explode at any moment and shrugged. “I guess it’s only fair. Come on, I’ll buy you and your friend a coffee in the canteen. I do earn more money than you, after all.”
Blake shook his head in disbelief and followed her out of the office.
“Matthews!” Gresham snapped at Sally as she began to walk out the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“For a coffee,” replied Sally sweetly. “DI Fox said I could and I think you’ll find she outranks you. See you in a bit!”
Gresham’s expletive filled reply was silenced as the office door slammed shut behind them.
The familiar image of Helen Beauchamp, the MP that had given an interview earlier in the day filled the screen in the canteen. As Blake and Sally waited for Fox to bring the drinks across from the counter, they both watched as the news repeated an interview Helen had given to Theresa Bowen earlier in the day.
“Mrs Beauchamp,” began Theresa, “how much blame would you attribute to the police for the disappearance of Thomas Frost today?”
Helen raised her eyebrows in a way that indicated her thoughts on the matter extremely well. “Well, I think it’s clear that there was an extreme failing in the transferal of a dangerous prisoner this morning, Theresa. The public are supposed to be assured that the movement of prisoners is supposed to be a very simple and safe operation and today that turned out to be quite the opposite.”
“It was already quite a controversial movement in the first place,” continued Theresa, looking delighted at Helen apparently agreeing with her that the police had greatly let the public down. “Moving a prisoner of Frost’s category that sort of distance brought him very close to the public, and now the worst has happened, because of neglect from somewhere. Is it the police we should be angry at?”
Blake shook his head in disbelief at Theresa’s line of questioning. He was unsure what she seemed to have against the police, but her aggressive interviewing style when it came to anything to do with the force had not changed since Frost’s killings.
“I’d like to give her a slap,” Sally said, sipping the remains of her coffee while glaring at the screen. “I remember Gresham had to give a TV interview to her once and she completely destroyed him for no reason whatsoever. It was like she went out of her way to be the most difficult interviewer on television. Even I felt sorry for him.”
“Gresham on TV?” Blake asked as Fox brought their second tray of coffees across to them. “Wish I’d seen that. Did he demand his own personal makeup artist?”
“Have you two quite finished?” Fox asked as she placed the drinks down. “We’ve got more to discuss than the magic of television.”
“Sorry,” Sally said, grabbing a sachet of sugar. “So, Blake. All this going on underneath your nose. There was me thinking you were the observant one.”
Blake shook his head. “I am. Still, I didn’t see th
is coming. So, Tom is Frost’s son. Wow. It sort of all makes a horrible kind of sense now. Apart from the fact that we were always under the impression that he only had one son.”
“Simon,” Sally said, nodding. “He moved to Australia to get away from the media and everything once it all came out.”
Fox merely shrugged. “According to the text messages shared between the two of them, Frost has two children, at least. I met Jacqueline Pattison. You certainly wouldn’t look at her and think she once had a relationship with someone like Frost. She must have kept it a secret all these years. How old is Tom? About twenty-five?”
Blake nodded. “Mmm. The dates work. He’s the same age as Harrison, twenty-five. Believe it or not, Frost is only eight years older than me.”
“And how old are you?”
“I’m thirty-five. Frost’s forty-three, which means he’d have been eighteen when Tom was born. Jacqueline had recently turned forty when I moved to Harmschapel.”
Fox frowned. “So how come you were only aware of one son when you originally arrested Frost?”
Blake and Sally looked at each other cluelessly.
“Good question,” murmered Blake. “Maybe Frost didn’t know.”
“Or maybe he did and Jacqueline got Tom as far away from him as she possibly could,” Sally suggested. “Seems like the sensible thing to do with someone like Frost. Somehow he got in contact with him.”
“From what we can gather,” Fox said thoughtfully, “Tom came to Frost while he was in prison. I don’t know how he found out about him though, unless he discovered that whoever Jacqueline was saying was his father wasn’t and did some research of his own. Either way, they got into regular visits which was how I was alerted. When Tom moved to Harmschapel, I was instructed to follow him and lead any investigation into his movements and contact with Frost. Just told to keep my head down as a ‘new officer’ and avoid suspicion.”
“You certainly did that,” Blake conceded. “Mind you, with all due respect, Ma’am, I hardly think going around shagging my officers counts as keeping your head down. I’m not going to pretend that just because you’re above me that I’m not still annoyed with you about Matti and Mini.”
Fox groaned and put her head into her hands. “I know, I know. Not my proudest moment. In my defence, we’d had a few. I was just craving some sort of attention. I’m only flesh and blood. I worked out Matti fancied me and I’ve been single for God knows how long now. This job isn’t exactly relationship friendly as you know well enough, I’m sure. We didn’t sleep together though, we just kissed, not that it excuses it. Mini can be rest assured though that now this is all out in the open and Tom is safely in hospital, I have no need to go back to Harmschapel ever again. If they can mend their relationship, I’m certainly not going to put it at any threat.”
Blake crossed his arms. “Well, that’s up to them. I currently have Matti sleeping on my sofa at home and trust me, he isn’t staying there. That’s in Harrison’s hands.” Suddenly, a thought struck him. “God, I better ring him. Knowing Harrison, he’ll be going out of his mind with worry if he’s seen anything about Frost on the news.” He stood up and pulled his phone out of his pocket and when he glanced at the screen, he realised just how many missed calls he had and sighed. “Right, I’ll ring Harrison and then, like it or not, I’m involved in this. If we want to catch Frost, I need to be helping, otherwise he’s just going to work out some other way of getting to me. I get you’re in charge, but I’m not being kept in the dark with this, not anymore.”
He left Sally and Fox in the canteen and immediately rang Harrison, wandering outside with a cigarette and a lighter he had received from Sally.
“Blake!” exclaimed Harrison as soon as he answered. “Where the hell are you?”
“It’s okay, Harrison, it’s okay,” Blake said soothingly as he lit the cigarette and inhaled on it deeply. “I’m fine. I’m in Manchester, at the police station.”
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve been going out of my mind?” Harrison ranted. “How much do you know? Blake, Tom’s awake!”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “Is he? Well, that’s good. How’s Jacqueline? She must be relieved.”
Harrison sighed. “Well, yes, in a way. It was Jacqueline, Blake. She heard him plotting something with Thomas Frost on the phone and…Blake, Tom thinks that Frost is his father!”
Blake froze for a moment. “What do you mean he thinks? Frost is his father, they’ve been sending texts to each other.”
“Yeah, I know, but according to Jacqueline, it’s not true. Apparently, Jacqueline had a thing with Frost’s own dad which resulted in her getting pregnant with Tom, but she never told him!”
Blake was too stunned to speak for a moment.
“Blake?”
“Hang on, Harrison, what are you actually telling me here?” Blake asked, closing his eyes and pinching his fingers on his forehead. “You mean all these texts that Tom and Frost have been sending have been under the false belief that they’re related? Frost isn’t Tom’s dad?”
“Exactly,” Harrison replied. “And they are related, but they’re not father and son. They’re brothers! Well, half-brothers, anyway.”
Blake’s brain felt like it was imploding in on itself. “Wait, how do you know all this? Did one of the officers at Harmschapel tell you?”
There was a long pause.
Blake frowned. “Harrison?”
“Yeah, sort of,” Harrison said slowly.
“What do you mean ‘sort of’?”
Harrison sighed. “Okay, look. I only did it because I was worried about you, and nobody was telling me anything. I listened in on Jacqueline’s interview, she told Mini Patil everything.”
“You did what?”
“Blake, listen. Jacqueline was only trying to protect you, she would never have wanted to kill Tom. Surely that’s got to work in her favour?”
Blake sighed as he allowed the rapid change of topic away from Harrison’s overhearing of the interview to concentrate on what he was actually saying, making a mental note to tackle him about it later. “It’s tricky. If Tom makes a full recovery, then maybe she’ll have a chance. Otherwise, there’s cause for it to be attempted murder. It depends. Look, Harrison, I’ve got to go. There’s stuff we need to work out here.”
“Blake, please promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid,” Harrison pleaded. “Just come home.”
Blake took a long pull on the cigarette to play for time while he formed a response in his head. “I can’t.”
“Blake, for God’s sake.”
“Frost needs me around to be drawn out of wherever he’s hiding. He’s cleverer than just slipping up and being caught straight away. For all we know, he could have been planning this escape for months, years even. I can’t just leave.”
“Despite the fact that he’s probably going to try and kill you? Blake, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to play along with these sorts of games. What is this really about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have to be the guy that catches him again?” Harrison asked him, the desperation evident in his voice. “It can’t be somebody else? This isn’t all about you, Blake. There’s other people you need to think about.”
“Like who?” Blake asked. He then immediately worked out what Harrison was trying to say and closed his eyes in annoyance with himself.
“Like me, you stupid prat!” Harrison exclaimed. “Like your parents, and Sally, and anybody else who is stupid enough to care about you! This isn’t about you going out to work and finding the bad guy, this is about your own personal vendetta with someone who also happens to be a dangerous serial killer. Blake, he’s been tracking your every move, Tom has told him everything about you, he knows you’re in Manchester!”
“I know that,” replied Blake calmly. “And believe me, I get what you’re saying. But I’m the key to all this, and Frost isn’t going to forget about anything just because I’m no
t in Manchester anymore. If anything, if I come back to Harmschapel, he’ll just follow me and I’m not putting you or anyone else there in danger.”
There was a long pause between them as Blake extinguished his cigarette on top of the bin.
“Harrison, I know you’re scared and so am I,” he continued quietly. “This isn’t giving me some sort of adrenaline rush. I know what Frost is capable of. Trust me, Gresham doesn’t want me here either but I have to be.”
“Blake?”
Behind him, Sally poked her head out of the door. “Lisa’s overrode Gresham, she’s about to hold a meeting if you want in?”
“On my way,” Blake told her. “I’ve got to go, Harrison. Listen, I’ll ring you later, I promise. Try not to worry. I swear I’ll keep you updated as much as I can.”
There was no reply.
“Harrison?”
He checked his screen and sighed. Harrison had already ended the call.
The report of Frost’s disappearance from the back of the prison van had lost none of its original shock value. As all the gathered police officers watched it in the darkened meeting room, Blake stared at the screen intently, trying to find some small titbit of information he could use to begin to work out what had actually happened.
“Now,” Fox continued from the front of the room, tapping furiously on the computer in front of her. “obviously the two reports, one from this morning of him being put in the van and this one revealing that he had vanished have both gone viral, trending on Twitter, YouTube, and are the top stories on all the news websites. If Frost wanted the world to notice this little trick of his, he’s certainly done that.”
“Have we had any statement from the prison yet?” Sally asked from the back of the room.
