by M A Comley
“I can see where you’re coming from. However, we must also keep in our minds that he abducted Emma from her home. We have no idea what his intentions were or are. Maybe the ransom was an afterthought. Otherwise, why didn’t he make the request from the outset? We also need to bear in mind that he’s also possibly killed another young woman. Has the pathologist either confirmed or denied that fact yet?”
“No. She’s hoping to get back to me today with a positive result. She found hairs on Gillian’s body. I’ve sent her over the file on Parker, his prison record.” She winced when she realised what she’d said.
“What? He has a record? You never told me that. What was he put away for?”
Lorne sighed, avoiding his gaze. “Sexual assault. It was fifteen years ago, Sean.”
He threw his arms up in the air and paced the room, running a hand through his hair in anger. “Bloody hell. Crap, I wish I hadn’t asked now.”
“I was trying to keep it from you. Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry.”
He inhaled and exhaled a few deep breaths then perched on the edge of his desk. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that piece of information for now, because if I don’t, it’s going to eat away at me.”
“I understand. Right, I better get on. We’re up against it now. It’s all in hand, Sean. Looks like we need to hang tight and let things slot into place.”
“Keep me informed. I’ll be sitting here on my hands until I hear something positive from you.”
“Stay strong. No more negative thoughts. My team and I have got this. All right?”
“I trust you.”
Lorne turned and walked towards the door.
“And Lorne?”
She swivelled to look at him. “Yes, Sean?”
“I can’t thank you and Tony enough for putting up the money.”
“Let’s hope it does the trick. I’ll touch base with you soon.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tony received the call giving him the all-clear to assemble the funds and rushed to his bank. Given the circumstances, the manager said he could organise for Tony to pick up the hundred thousand pounds by four o’clock that afternoon. He relayed that message to Lorne, then he and Joe started out on their search for the cardboard city where they presumed Parker had frequented recently.
“So we’re looking for a riverside location in the Abbots Langley area,” Joe said as he exited the motorway.
“That’s all we have to go on so far. Do you know this area, mate? I don’t.”
“My aunt used to live in Kings Langley, the next village over. I remember her taking us down to feed the ducks when we were little at the Grand Union Canal.”
“Sounds as good a place as any to start our search.”
“I was thinking the same.”
Around twenty minutes later, they parked in a car park alongside the canal and got out of the vehicle. The wind was bitterly cold. Tony zipped his jacket and pulled up the collar to protect his face.
Joe pointed at Tony’s leg. “Are you gonna be all right to walk on it?”
Tony nodded. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go. We’re bound to meet someone on our travels soon, and we can question them about a possible location.”
They walked along the muddy towpath on the bank of the canal, heading north. It was almost half an hour before they passed another person, an elderly woman walking her Yorkshire terrier.
“Hi, sorry to trouble you. I wonder if you could help us,” Tony said, smiling at the woman to put her at ease.
She tightened her grip on the dog lead and looked them up and down cautiously. “I can try.”
“Thanks. We’re looking for a place where homeless people might have set up camp along the river.”
Her eyes narrowed. She glanced over her shoulder then back at Tony. “What would the likes of you want with a rat-infested place like that?”
“We’re private investigators and are hoping to have a word with the inhabitants, regarding a case we’re working on.”
“Private investigators? I thought they only existed in America. Didn’t know you were allowed to trade over here.”
Tony smiled at her choice of words. “We’re legit. I promise.” He searched in his pocket for a business card and handed it to the woman.
She peered closely at the card, obviously in need of glasses to properly read what was written on it. “Cool. As my granddaughter would say. Okey-doke, if you carry on walking down this path, you’ll come to like a crossroad of paths. Continue walking for about twenty-five minutes, and you’ll see them all there, close to the bridge. It used to be safe to walk your dogs around here, but not anymore, not since they took up residence. I stick to this part of the canal now. Shame, really… Tiddles loved walking around that part. I suppose nothing stays the same for long. Give me back my childhood days when there was less traffic on the roads and you rarely stumbled across a homeless person. Nowadays, it seems to be rife. Makes me shudder to think of people having to live on the streets. I have to say some of them scare the life out of me. They can be so aggressive towards people. Their anger fuelled by drugs, I suppose. Hark at me, wittering on. I hope you find what you’re looking for, gents.”
“Thanks for your help. We really appreciate it.”
Tony and Joe watched the woman continue on her walk with her little dog, then they smiled at each other before heading off in the opposite direction.
“Some old dears make me laugh the way they insist on putting the world to rights, even with strangers,” Joe said.
Their journey did indeed eventually lead them to an area that was sheltered by a small wall and had several cardboard boxes set back from the riverbank.
“Looks like we hit the jackpot. Gently does it… the last thing we want to do is spook these guys,” Tony muttered out the corner of his mouth.
“They all seem pretty interested in us. How do you want to play this? Split up or question everyone together?” Joe asked.
“It might be a good idea for us to split up. Let’s keep vigilant, watch for anyone trying to avoid us by leaving the camp, that sort of thing.”
Joe pointed off to the right. “I’ll take the far end. You start here, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
“Sounds good to me. If anyone recognises Parker, let me know. Looking at the sea of faces watching us, I can’t say I recognise anyone as being him.”
“I tell you, he’s not likely to be here, not when he’s holding a girl hostage.”
Tony nodded. “I hear you. In that case, we need to find out a possible hangout for him. Perhaps these guys go somewhere else when the weather turns nasty.”
Joe looked up at the grey clouds above. “You mean nastier than this? Looks like snow is looming to me.”
“We better crack on in that case.” Joe walked ahead to the far side of the camp.
Tony approached a bearded man in his late fifties to early sixties. His thick brown overcoat was torn in several places. He had what appeared to be three different-coloured scarves wrapped around his neck and was holding a steaming cup of hot liquid in his gloved hands.
“Hi, sorry to intrude. We’re looking for a guy we think used to hang out around here.”
“Cops, are you? If you are, you can do one. Why should we help you when you do bugger all to help the likes of us?”
“Sorry to hear that. Actually, I’m a private investigator.”
The man roared with laughter and pointed at Tony. “Says he’s a PI. Don’t look like Ironside or Magnum to me, Chaz. Does he to you?” he asked the younger man sitting a few feet away.
“A PI? What’s he want with the likes of you, Ted?” the man replied, his voice croaky as he snuggled his chin and mouth into his coat.
“Fucked if I know. Says he’s looking for someone. Guess he thinks we owe him to dob one of our own in.”
“Hah, he’ll have a long wait then, mate, won’t he?” The other man laughed.
Tony sighed inwardly but kept a smile on his face as he continued to talk
to the two men. “Guys, I really do appreciate your point of view. I’m hoping you’ll change your mind when you hear what this person has done.”
“Go on then, surprise us,” the man closest to Tony said.
“He’s guilty of possibly murdering one girl and abducting another.” He saw the shock register on the two men’s faces. “Does that make a difference?”
“I don’t believe it. No one around here would do that sort of thing. You got a name for this fella?”
“Frank Parker. However, he could be using a different name. Have you heard of him?”
The bearded man shook his head and turned to his friend. “What about you, Chaz?”
“Name doesn’t ring a bell. You got a picture of this guy?”
Tony opened his phone and showed the man an image of Parker that Lorne had sent him. “Here you are. What do you think?”
The two men shifted closer together to look at the photo, then they looked at each other.
“Is it him?” Tony’s interest level rose. “You recognise him?”
Ted nodded. “I think so. He looks a little different now. He’s got a wiry long beard and longish hair. He seemed a genuinely nice guy when he turned up here a few months ago.”
“Have either of you seen him recently?”
Both men shook their heads.
“Can’t say we have. It’s been a good few weeks since he came around here.”
“Damn. Did either of you get to know him?” Tony asked, his hopes dashed.
“We don’t go interrogating folks, if that’s what you’re asking. We’ve all got a history we choose to ignore, mate.”
“I understand that. Was he a resident around here for long?”
“A couple of weeks,” Chaz replied. “He seemed to prefer his own company. We all have a gather round at night, for a singsong, just to break up the monotomy… Is that how you say it? Anyway, whatever the damn word is, he kept his distance from anything like that. Turned up here at night but went off first thing in the morning. Weird chap. Old Harry up the end where your mate is, he’s more likely to know more about him than us.”
“You’ve been brilliant. Thanks so much for your help.”
“No worries, man. Information like that don’t come cheap, you know. If you get my drift…”
Tony smiled, flipped open his wallet and extracted a twenty-pound note. “I appreciate your help. Do you have a mobile?”
Both men shook their heads.
“Never mind. I was going to ask you to ring me if he showed up.”
“Out of our hands, mate. Thanks for the dosh. We can have a knees-up with this tonight, Chaz.”
“Cheers, boys.” Tony walked the length of the patch to where Joe was questioning a man. He was a few steps away from him when his phone rang. He strode away from the group to answer it. “Hi, Lorne. How are things going?”
“I was just about to ask you the same. Where are you?”
“We’re down by the Grand Union Canal. We’ve located the homeless patch. We’re in the process of asking the residents if they know Parker.”
“That’s excellent. Pat’s just managed to locate the area, and I was about to inform you where it was. Any luck? Do any of the guys down there know Parker?”
“Only halfway through questioning them so far. It’s looking good, though. Two guys recognise his photo, and Joe is questioning an old chap now. I need to crack on, love. It’s freezing out here, and I fear my knackers are going to drop off any second.”
Lorne sniggered. “Too much information, love. I’ll warm them up for you later.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Gotta go. We’re up against it, and I need to get back to the bank by four.”
“Good luck. Let me know if you find out anything of use.”
“Of course.” Tony ended the call and joined Joe and the man called Harry. “How are things?” he asked Joe.
“Harry here was just telling me that Parker mentioned that he visited a nearby church during the day.”
“Any idea of the name of this church?”
The bearded old man shook his head. “No, sonny. I don’t think it could be too far, though. He didn’t have a vehicle at his disposal, so he’d have to visit the place on foot.”
“Can you point us in the direction he used to set off in?”
The man swivelled and pointed over his shoulder. “That way. I haven’t got a clue how far it is, lad. Sorry.”
“No need to apologise. We’ll take a shufty and see if we can locate it. Anything else?”
Joe shook his head, and they stepped away from the man. “Nothing so far. What about you?”
“The two guys at the end recognised Parker, told me he’s changed a bit from when the photo was taken, so that’s helpful. Want to venture over that way to try to find this church?”
Joe shrugged. “We might as well, as we’re this close.”
Tony walked past Old Harry and whispered, “I gave your mates down the end a twenty. Make sure they give you a share.”
“Thanks. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. What’s Parker done, anyway?”
“Murdered one girl and abducted another, we believe.”
The man’s head jutted forward, and his eyes grew large. “Jesus, really? I guess you never really know people, do you? He always seemed a gentle man to me. Lost his wife to cancer a few months ago, he told me. Life went off the rails for him after that, he said. I would never have put him down as a murderer, though. That’s terrible. Hey, don’t think we’re all tarred with the same brush down here, will you? We’re the unfortunate ones, the ones who have probably given more to society than most, and yet society has turned its back on us.”
“Sorry to hear that, Harry. I hope someone or something good happens soon to change the bad luck you guys have been having.”
“Yeah, and pigs might fly. Thanks for your best wishes. I hope you find Parker and can rescue the girl before it’s too late.”
“So do we,” Tony mumbled as he and Joe began their search for the church.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Emma knew he had demanded a ransom. What she didn’t know was what his intentions were after he’d collected the money. He rarely spoke to her, and she spoke to him only when necessary. Her existence had become a confusing one. All she could think about was the cold forming permanent goose bumps on her skin, and her body ached from the constant shaking she was forced to endure. Her head throbbed from the thorns sticking into her temple. How could someone do that to another person?
She was ashamed of the thoughts running through her mind. Dark, twisted thoughts told her that maybe she would be better off dead than live like this for much longer—not knowing if or when she was going to be released or if someone would rush in and rescue her. She hated such thoughts. They tested not only her strength as a human being but also her faith in God. Was that Frank’s objective? Had God failed him that much in the past that he was set on challenging God in the future?
He was pacing the floor close to her cell, murmuring something incoherent as he walked back and forth. Sometimes his footsteps grew closer, causing her breath to catch in her mouth, before his steps receded. Her anxiety was at its peak now. Aware of the financial constraints her parents were under, she didn’t have a clue how they were going to raise the hundred thousand he was expecting. Her parents hadn’t actually sat down with her to explain their financial woes to her, but she had overheard them talking one night. She had crept downstairs for a glass of milk and heard her father comforting her crying mother. He’d reassured her that everything would be all right and that they were doing the right thing by remortgaging the house in order to save their business. According to her father, he was in the process of negotiating a couple of large contracts that would put their business on the map and bring in a constant stream of work for years to come—they just needed to get over this slight blip in their finances.
Emma was admittedly a little naïve when it came to money matters and how businesses were run, but
as soon as her mother burst into tears the second her father mentioned remortgage, she recognised how much trouble her parents were in.
Where are they going to find a hundred thousand in a few hours?
She wondered if she should just give up and let her body start shutting down before the man took pleasure in taking her life from her. However, her faith prevented her from doing that. She wasn’t used to feeling out of control and found it frustrating as well as debilitating. Her energy and will to live were diminishing rapidly.
His pacing stopped a few feet away from her. She strained to listen, trying to ascertain what he was up to. He began talking, his tone harsh and authoritative. He was arranging the drop-off for the money. She sensed her time on this earth was running out, fast. She had no concept of time, but the urgency in his voice told her there could only be a few hours before the payment was due. What happens to me then? Will he let me go? Or leave me here to die?
She closed her eyes to pray for guidance from her maker and for forgiveness for the sins she had committed during her young life.
He ended his call, mumbled something under his breath then opened her prison door. He stared down at her.
“All this will end soon enough. Depending if your parents come up with the cash or not is whether you live or die. I hope you’ve been utilising your time well and praying in there.”
“My God has shown me there is nothing to fear. I have prepared myself for meeting my maker. Nothing you can do to me now will affect how I feel about myself and my onward journey from this world. Lord have mercy on your soul.”
He slammed the lid shut, and she flinched, biting hard on the inside of her mouth. Why did I have to say that? All I’ve succeeded in doing is antagonising him more. Lord, guide me in what I say and do from now on. Please, keep me alive for a few more hours in the hope that I may see my parents for a final time. That I may bathe in their goodness and love.
