by Ted Tayler
Here we go, thought Gus.
“If we count Saturday as Day Zero, I’ve only lived with you in this bungalow for two days, yet it already feels like home.”
“You don’t have an urge to remove walls, scrape off wallpaper, or buy gallons of paint then?” asked Gus.
“Heavens, no,” said Suzie. “Ever since you invited me back for lunch that Sunday afternoon, I’ve loved this place. It cocoons you and wraps you in a warm embrace.”
“You could have offered to buy it,” said Gus.
“It wouldn’t be the same without you in it,” laughed Suzie.
“That’s a relief,” said Gus.
“What shall we do for the rest of the evening?” asked Suzie.
“We could walk to the allotment to see how my vegetables are doing one hour before sunset. Or drop by the Lamb for a drink with Bert Penman. Why not open a bottle of wine and listen to one of the albums you brought over on Saturday?”
“Option three sounds preferable,” said Suzie. “We’ll take the first two options tomorrow evening. It will start the celebrations for me finishing my work at Gablecross, despite DI Francis. You open a bottle of Malbec and bring us two glasses. I’ll select something from my limited vinyl collection, and I hope you enjoy it.”
Tuesday, 10th July 2018
Alex Hardy left his home to drive to Devizes at the regular time. He gave Gus a wave as they passed one another at the bottom of Caen Hill. With Suzie Ferris needing to leave for Gablecross, his boss was up and about in plenty of time to reach the Old Police Station office at nine.
Alex had arranged to collect Rick Chalmers from London Road. The drive to Wantage would take them around an hour, and Tanya White (formerly Norris) was expecting them at ten o’clock. Alex did not know what Stockham Park was like. Rick was more familiar with the area.
When Alex carried out high-speed pursuits, there weren’t opportunities to see much more than the motorway or the major roads. The drivers he chased weren’t keen on giving him a chance of sightseeing.
As Alex parked his car outside the Hub building, Rick emerged and jumped into the passenger seat.
“Before we go,” he asked. “Did you have a substantial breakfast?”
“I never leave home without one,” said Alex. “Why?”
“My eyes were bigger than my stomach last night. I’ve got half a pizza in my car if you want to share it.”
“No, thanks,” said Alex. “So what have you heard about Wantage and this estate we’re visiting today?”
“Wantage is a quiet, market town with a population of eleven thousand, give or take. A few famous people were born here, Alfred the Great, for one. As for Stockham Park, it’s got its issues.”
“I guess you can understand why Tanya lived there,” said Alex. “She was born in Oxford, lived in Swindon for a while, and convalesced somewhere close. It’s an area she knows. It sounds as if she can exist there, raising no eyebrows; that’s probably all she wants. To live her life with no one learning about her past.”
“And here we are, on our way to open up those wounds again,” said Rick.
As they turned on Portway on the outskirts of the town, Rick checked the time.
“Take a right onto Ham Road just up here, and we’ll be outside Tanya’s front door at one minute past ten. Let’s hope she’s got the kettle on.”
Rick was spot on with the timing. He was right about the estate too, with the odd car on bricks in the front garden, damaged walls, windows, and doors crying out for repair. When they walked from the car to the entrance of the smart-looking two-up, two-down terraced property Alex wondered what they would find inside.
Rick pushed the bell. They weren’t sure whether it worked as they didn’t hear a ring.
Alex rapped the glass panel with his knuckles. The door opened at once.
“Alright. Keep your hair on. I suppose you’re from the police that rang me yesterday?”
Tanya was petite, perhaps five foot two inches tall, with her blonde hair dragged tightly off her face and secured in a ponytail. Alex kept reminding himself she was only twenty-six. Tanya was barefoot and wore a loose-fitting sleeveless top and tight blue jeans.
Alex checked her arms for tracks but saw nothing fresh. He knew Rick would keep his eyes peeled for the usual drug paraphernalia inside. If cannabis had been Tanya’s thing, the stench would have hit them already.
“I’m DS Chalmers, and my colleague is DS Hardy,” said Rick. They showed Tanya their warrant cards. She stood back to let them in.
“Tea or coffee?” she asked.
“Coffee, white, one sugar for me,” said Alex.
“Me too,” said Rick.
“I don’t know what I can do to help you,” said Tanya as she walked to the kitchen. Rick followed her. He noticed that the room was neat and tidy. There was food in the fridge when she collected the milk, and the cupboard was full when Tanya took out the coffee jar.
Alex stood in the hallway and looked upstairs and listened. He didn’t sense anyone else was home. He glanced through the open door into the living room. Although some would think it sparsely furnished, it had everything a young woman living alone needed.
Tanya might have her demons, but she was doing her best to hold on to this place. Her landlord wouldn’t have any cause to complain.
“We know how painful things were for you in Swindon,” said Rick as they moved into the living room and sat. “We want to start with the time when things improved for you. Can you remember when you left the hospital, and someone took care of you? What can you tell us?”
“I’d spoken with Michelle, the doctor,” said Tanya, “and she promised to do more than help me get better. I think she phoned someone, but I was out of it for a while, not just because of what they did to get rid of the baby. They used to give us girls all the drugs we needed, and everyone relied on them to get through the day. I was strung out for weeks, but I was determined to beat it.”
“Do you know who collected you from the hospital, Tanya?” asked Alex.
“I didn’t recognise them,” said Tanya, “they told the staff I was their daughter. That was daft. They were too young to have a seventeen-year-old kid. The lady was only ten years older than me if that. They drove me to a house. Not that far in the car, but I didn’t know which direction we went when we left Swindon. A nurse looked after me there. She didn’t wear the same uniform, but she knew what she was doing.”
“How long do you think you were there?” asked Rick.
“Two weeks, maybe three,” said Tanya. “While I was getting better, those two people came back to talk to me.”
“The couple who posed as your parents?” asked Rick. “Did they ask about the men who made you work for them?”
Tanya nodded.
“Okay,” said Alex, “did you learn where you were, or who they were?”
“The nurse told me she knew them as Mr and Mrs Brown. They lived in Shrivenham. I was staying in what she called a safe house in Devizes until I was well enough to travel. Someone collected me at night after three weeks. I think the nurse gave me something because when I woke up, I was somewhere different. The doctors there helped get me off the drugs and told me none of what happened was my fault.”
“Were you able to mix with other patients while you were there?” asked Rick.
“Did you find out where this new treatment centre was?” asked Alex.
“I had no idea how far we went when they drugged me,” said Tanya, “but other girls were there. Girls I’d seen in the clubs, and at the parties in the big houses in the countryside.”
Alex and Rick realised that these other girls could help them in their search.
“Do you know the names of these other girls?” asked Rick.
“Vicki, Tasha, Billie, and Freya, they were the ones I talked to most. We got put together because we were at the same stage in our recovery. That’s what the doctors said.”
“Did you leave at the same time?” asked Alex. “How did that work. Did they find a pla
ce for you, like this one?”
“We aren’t supposed to tell anyone,” said Tanya.
“What made you choose your new surname?” asked Rick.
“We didn’t get to choose,” said Tanya. “The doctor gave you the next name on the list: Black, Brown, Green, White. I didn’t care. We just wanted to forget everything that had happened. I got told I could stay here as long as I wanted, provided I kept up to date with the rent. I had to stay in full-time employment and keep clean and not go back to what I was doing before, you know.”
“Did someone find you a job?” asked Alex.
“I work from home,” said Tanya. “I work for a charity that helps ex-servicemen deal with PTSD. I feel that I’m doing something worthwhile.”
“Are you in a relationship?” asked Rick.
“I’m not ready yet,” said Tanya, “I still need counselling to process what those men did to me. The doctor at the hospital in Swindon told me I’d have no children. Those men had done too much damage when they punished me for getting pregnant.”
“I’m sorry, Tanya,” said Rick. “We didn’t wish to cause you distress. Have you got contact details for Vicki and the others?”
“Yeah. We’re in a What’s App group. We support one another.”
“I’d appreciate those contact details,” said Alex, “You can promise them we’ll be discreet. We want to learn as much as we can about Mr and Mrs Brown and the others, that’s all.”
“What’s the name of the charity you work for, Tanya?” asked Rick.
“I told you before, we aren’t to speak about it,” said Tanya. “My life has been heaven since they rescued me from the hell I suffered back then. If I want to go to college and pursue another career, they’ll help me. As soon as I prove I can be independent, I can move on from here and get a place of my own. This house isn’t a prison. If I meet someone, the same applies. They won’t stand in my way. You have no idea how many people they’re helping across the country. When we talk amongst ourselves, me and the girls think they’re better off doing good things without publicising it.”
“Where is the charity based, do you know?” asked Alex.
“Not a clue,” said Tanya, “and that’s the truth, honest. Every financial transaction, every email contact has always been from a numbered account or address. There’s no way to link it to the specific name of an organisation. Before you ask, no, you can’t see any of my bank details without a warrant.”
“If I said we’d be back with a warrant tomorrow morning, what would happen?” asked Rick.
“You would find this place empty,” said Tanya. “If I ever feel threatened they said to call them. Look, I’ve said more than I should have already. What’s the problem, anyway? I’ve not broken the law.”
“Fair enough,” said Alex, “Give us the phone numbers to get in touch with your friends. We won’t push them to tell us more than they want. You said the people who masqueraded as your parents were too young. The woman was the same age as you are now, is that right?”
Tanya nodded.
“The man was older, but not by much.”
“Can you describe them?” asked Rick.
“She was pretty. The man looked good too, tall, and athletic. They spoke like the actors in that ‘Our Girl’ series on the telly.”
“The series about the British Army in Afghanistan?” asked Rick.
“Yeah, that one,” replied Tanya.
“That’s very helpful, Tanya,” said Alex. “We’ll let you get back to work as soon as we’ve got those contact details.”
“I was hoping you’d forget,” grinned Tanya. She checked her phone and noted names and numbers on a scrap of paper before handing it to Alex.
“Thanks, Tanya,” said Alex. “Remember what we said. We don’t want to cause trouble. We’re happy to see you’re in a safe place and enjoying the work you’re doing.”
Tanya White walked them to the front door and watched as Rick and Alex returned to the car. As soon as Alex drove away from the kerb, she closed the door and went back inside.
“She’ll be on the phone to these friends of hers warning them we’re on our way,” said Rick.
“Call one of them now and fix a meeting,” said Alex. “Even one confirmation of that description of Mr and Mrs Brown will help. Who knows, they might provide more details on this charity. Tanya said we wouldn’t believe how many people they help. How can something be that widespread and not be general knowledge?”
“They’ve got financial clout too,” said Rick. “If they can support medical facilities to wean patients off drugs, re-house them, and fix them up with jobs.”
“When I started this search, I was hunting a sniper who killed Grant Burnside. A military background seemed an obvious connection for a man capable of making that shot from a distance. Now we’ve uncovered other ex-military personnel involved in undercover work rescuing girls from a grooming gang. Could these people connect to the charity Tanya mentioned? A charity that helps ex-servicemen dealing with Post Traumatic Stress.”
“Who are you ringing?” asked Alex.
“Freya,” said Rick, “but it’s gone to voicemail. Shall I leave a message?”
“Try Vicki next,” said Alex.
Rick dialled the numbers Tanya provided one after the other. He shook his head.
“I don’t think Tanya gave us the wrong numbers,” said Rick, “But she must have texted them and warned them not to answer. They’ve gone to voicemail. I’ll send them a text message, explaining who I am and why I’m calling. We’ll just have to wait, Alex.”
Alex thought for a second.
“Call Tanya,” he said, “she’ll recognise the number you rang on to book this morning’s interview.”
Rick made the call.
“Guess what?”
Alex turned back at the next roundabout and sped towards Stockham Park.
“Who the heck are we dealing with here?” said Rick.
The ‘To Let’ sign from a local estate agent confirmed what Tanya had told them. If she felt threatened, she only had to call. The furniture might still be inside, but Tanya White (formerly Norris) had gone.
CHAPTER 4
When they arrived back at London Road, Alex and Rick made straight for the Hub building. Gus Freeman needed to hear this news.
While Alex made the call, Rick started the hunt for Mr and Mrs Brown from Shrivenham. Tanya was sure the nurse had told her they lived there in 2012. If they had returned from active service in Afghanistan before that, then they could appear in the 2011 Census.
“It’s Alex, guv,” said Alex. “We’ve got a problem. Rick and I interviewed Tanya in Wantage this morning. She wasn’t eager to give much away, but we got a lead on who took her from the hospital.”
“That sounds positive,” said Gus, “so, what’s the problem?”
Gus listened, tight-lipped, as Alex explained.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Gus. “I wonder whether the girls have moved, or whether it’s just Tanya? Can the Hub whiz kids help with that? Could they locate where those phones are? Do you have enough details to search for them on social media? They’ll be among Tanya’s friend list, won’t they? Keep calling those numbers and start looking online. Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do, guv. Oh, I didn’t tell you the girls' new identities. Tanya Norris is now Tanya White. Or she was when we spoke to her at ten o’clock. She didn’t tell us what Vicki, Tasha, Billie, and Freya got called after they’d completed their recovery. Take your pick from Black, Brown, Green, and White. It will slow us down, finding the right profiles on social media. If Tanya’s anything to go by, they will have covered their tracks before we find them.”
Alex rejoined Rick, and they divided the tasks between them. Rick spent the rest of the day tracing the couple that masqueraded as Tanya’s parents. Alex saw him sit back in his chair with a massive sigh at a few minutes to five.
“Any joy, Rick?” he asked.
“Got them both, mate,” sai
d Rick. “Hayden Vincent was twenty-eight years old in 2012. He served in Iraq and Afghanistan as a medic. Under fire in Helmand, he met Kelly Dexter, a Lance Corporal in the Logistics Corps. Kelly, twenty-six at the time, took shrapnel in the legs after a mortar attack. They returned in 2010 and recovered from their ordeal at a facility in Hampshire before leaving the army. They were a couple. Where one went the other followed. They moved to Shrivenham in November and appeared in the Census the next year. Both of them entered their occupation as being a joint owner of a cleaning company.”
“Terrific,” said Alex, “let’s see them first thing tomorrow. We won’t announce our arrival. I’ll collect you from home at seven o’clock. We can get to them before eight.”
“If only it were that easy, Alex,” said Rick. “While you chased the GPS locations, I asked another expert on this floor for a helping hand. He found Kelly Dexter and Hayden Vincent in November 2012. Avon and Somerset held onto several CCTV images captured during a Royal visit to Bristol. The Queen attended the Old Vic Theatre, and a place called the M Shed. After a terrorist scare, the Queen’s car exited stage left at a rate of knots. There was a large police presence in the city, but nobody could identify several other people on the scene during the excitement.”
“Dexter and Vincent were definitely there that day?” asked Alex. Rick showed him the images.
“Look, there they are on Prince’s Street mingling with the crowd. Do they look like sightseers to you?”
“Not a bit,” said Alex, “if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say they were security forces. Look at the bulge in that jacket Vincent’s wearing. He’s carrying a gun in a shoulder holster. I bet the woman has a weapon in that large handbag too. Who could they be with?”
“No idea, but it puts a whole new meaning on working for a cleaning company,” said Rick.
“You told me to hold on. Have Vincent and Dexter left Shrivenham? Where did they move to?”
“They cleared out towards the end of 2013,” said Rick. “Destination unknown. There is one more thing that will interest you, Alex. Gus will rub his hands too. Look at this image from Prince’s Street that same afternoon.”
