by Lee Wood
The boot slammed, and everything went dark.
Chapter Thirty-One
BACK HOME
It felt good to be back in his home. Of course, everywhere Roger looked there were photographs to remind him of his beautiful daughter. Photos of her growing up, with her mum, her grandparents, her first pony, her first horse and lots of photos with her best friend, Sarah Parks. And of course, lots with her dad.
What do they say? A parent’s worst nightmare is to have to bury their own child.
He had to come to terms with the fact Julie was gone.
Maybe the next day would bring a little more relief. Maybe!
The next day he would go over to 39 Cheney Way and clear out the things he had there and hand back the keys. Kevin O’Connor might not get his comeupance in this lifetime, but Roger was sure when the time came he would get it in the next.
It was 11.42 p.m. when Roger walked upstairs and got ready for bed. He was usually in bed by eleven, but he wasn’t planning on going in to work the next day. In fact, if the deal with Clifton Engineering went through, and he had almost decided he would accept it, he would probably never go into work again. He would still take a couple of weeks before making the final decision, but his mind was virtually made up.
It hadn’t been easy, but by midnight, Roger had cleared his mind and was finally asleep. In his current state, he had forgotten about setting the alarm system. So at one-thirty, he wasn’t aware of the three figures hiding in the bushes to the rear of his house. And he didn’t hear the petrol being poured through the spout from the 20-litre army-green metal petrol can and into his front letter box.
After the contents of the first can had finished being poured through the letterbox, Kevin picked up the second can and walked round the house, pouring petrol on every window seal he came to. Tyson had cut a hole through the glass panel of the back door, large enough for the spout of his petrol can to deliver its contents onto the kitchen floor. Lennox had another can and was pouring petrol around the large conservatory.
Once all three were happy with their handiwork, Kevin pulled out three rags and poured petrol over them from the small amount he had kept back.
Almost together the three men set fire to the back door, the conservatory, and Kevin put his rag through the letterbox and watched as the flames took hold along the hallway where the petrol had travelled.
Keeping out of site in the hedges at the front of the house, the trio admired their handiwork.
After ten minutes, the whole house looked to be ablaze. Kevin sent Tyson round to the back of the house to make sure the occupant didn’t escape through the back door or conservatory.
Tyson carried one of the three baseball bats they had brought along. If by some miracle, Roger managed to escape the flames then he would be brought down with the bat and finished off.
Tyson was hoping he would escape and run his way. He loved hurting people. It always got his pulse racing.
Upstairs in his bedroom, Roger had woken up after hearing one of the the smoke detectors kick and then heard the loud bangs and crashes as items succumbed to the flames and either melted or exploded.
He cautiously opened the bedroom door and found the flames already creeping up the stairs and smoke restricting his view beyond about two metres.
He went back into the bedroom, took his dressing gown into the en-suite bathroom and put it in the bath and turned the cold-water tap of full power, making sure the water covered every part. Then he put it on over the pyjamas he was wearing and opened the door and made a dash along the hall to his daughter’s bedroom. Once inside he closed the door. Without hesitation, he opened her walk-in closet and pressed a button on the back wall that opened a hidden door.
It was a panic room he had installed three years previously when Julie decided to dump her ex-boyfriend Craig Dawson, and after he had been released from prison after serving just three years of his six year sentence and he became a bit of a nuisance.
The house originally had five bedrooms, and there was only him and Julie, so he had people from his engineering company alter one of the bedrooms and install a safe room ‘just in case’ because at the time it looked like the boy could turn into a stalker.
Luckily, after a while, he got a new girlfriend and stopped standing outside the front of the house all night. And then the threats had ceased. By then the work had already been undertaken.
As his company specialised in metalwork engineering, everything in the hidden room had been lined with metal, and it included a staircase that led down into the basement and along and out to the triple garage to the side of the house.
The smoke was getting through, but the metal kept the flames at bay, although the walls were becoming hot. Roger covered his face and mouth with the dressing gown and felt his way down to the basement and then along to the garage. Luckily there was a short passage from the house, and the smoke and flames hadn’t got to the garage yet.
Roger could hear sirens in the distance getting louder. He pressed the button on the wall to open the garage door, and when it had risen up enough, he clambered out into the front driveway. Just as he did, he saw two fire engines and a police car arriving in the driveway. He didn’t notice Kevin and his two sons standing in the crowd that had gathered to see what was going on, but they noticed him.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” said Kevin.
Chapter Thirty-Two
FIRE
Two fire engines filled the driveway at the front of Roger’s house both with ladders extending towards the front of the house. Yellow fire hoses crisscrossed over each other like giant worms stretching to the back of the house where firemen fully rigged with breathing apparatus stood aiming each hose with total precision through the windows on both the ground and upper floors.
The noise levels from both the firefighters communicating with each other and the damage being created by the flames meant anyone within a hundred metres was probably not going to be able to sleep for some time.
There were around thirty neighbours and onlookers standing on the pavement and spilling into the road. A few even had their phones and were videoing the event like it was Guy Fawkes Night.
The fire officer had informed the two police officers of the safe distance to maintain, and they were standing to ensure none of the onlookers got too close.
The road either side of the house had been blocked off by police cars. Detective Eden Gold parked as close as he could, and together with his colleague DS Tracy Archer, walked to the front of the crowd, both showing the PC their ID badges.
Roger Maynard was sitting on a fold-up chair one of the firemen had grabbed from the garage and placed to the left side of the front garden about halfway between the fire engines and the road. He was being attended to by a paramedic.
As Eden spoke with the firemen, Tracy walked over to where Roger was sitting.
“Hello, Mr Maynard. Can you tell me what happened?”
Roger indicated his burning house. “Someone set fire to the house, with me in it, is what happened. And I think I can guess who that was.”
“I don’t suppose you saw them.”
“No. But it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Eden sighed. “To you and me perhaps, but not to a jury. He will have an alibi with a dozen witnesses.”
“I thought he would forget about me.”
“Mr Maynard, off the record, I’ve been dealing with this family for more years than I care to remember and they are ruthless, especially Kevin. I don’t know what keeps the blood flowing round his body, but it’s sure not a heart because he hasn’t got one that I’ve ever seen. And I’m afraid this won’t be the end of it.”
“How does he get away with it?”
“We have to act within the law, and he knows how to play the system. Believe me, there are probably twenty cops who would give half their pension to see O’Connor locked up but unless we catch him in the act, we can’t touch him.”
Roger bit his lip. “I bloody ca
n.”
“Sorry, I went deaf for a second there. I didn’t hear what you said. Just be careful, Mr Maynard, or you could be the one ending up in court. We’ll get him one day, believe me.”
“If I can get to my car in the garage, I’ve got some spare clothes. Plus I left my mobile in there.”
One of the two mobiles had been in the house, and Roger guessed that one would be have been destroyed, but he had left the one with the number given to the police in his car. He didn’t mention to the detective about having two and the reason.
When the problems had first begun for Roger, one of the first things Phil Jones had advised Roger to do was purchase two mobile phones and to tell everyone he had lost his old one.
“You don’t know who is on your side. Give out the number of one phone to people like the police, your solicitor’s office and legal people. Then give out the second number to family and for work-related matters.
Now, we need to find you somewhere to stay.”
“I have somewhere I can stay that will be safe.”
“If you are sure? Not somewhere connected to your family, I hope. Once O’Connor learns you’ve survived he will try other ways.”
“There are only my parents and my ex-wife. No other family. My parents are due to go on holiday tomorrow so that they will be away for the next two weeks. I’ll warn Francis to be on her guard.”
“Okay. Just keep in touch and remember what I said. Don’t try to take the law into your own hands.”
The fire brigade managed to contain the fire. There was extensive damage, and no one was allowed into the house, but they did allow Roger to grab his clothes and mobile from his car but he couldn’t drive it as the fire engines were in the way and would remain there for some time. Due to the smoke damage, the car would probably need a visit to the main dealer before it was deemed safe to drive.
Roger selected a contact on his phone. “Can I have a taxi to the corner of Fieldview Lane please?”
“Certainly, sir. Where are you going to?”
“The Milton Motel.”
“Be there in five minutes.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
THE KIDNAP
“Hello, Phil Jones Investigations.”
“Hi Phil, it’s Roger Maynard. Someone burned my house down last night, while I was still in it.”
“Where are you now?”
“I’ve booked into the Milton.”
“Give me an hour, and I’ll come over. In the meantime ask Gerry if the meeting room is free.”
Roger was about to head out of his room when his phone rang. Although the number hadn’t been programmed into this phone he recognised his mother’s number.
“Hello, Mum, how did you get th–”
“You must be fucking Houdini.”
Roger froze at the sound of the voice on the other end. It was gruff… and the accent was Irish. There was silence for two seconds before the voice continued.
“I’ve got two people here who would like to speak with you.”
Roger went cold.
“Hello, Roger. It’s Mum. I’m sorry, son. We were asleep in bed and these men broke in and grabbed us. I’m not sure where we are. It’s a sort of–”
Roger heard a loud scream and someone in the background. “Mum, Mum!”
The phone went dead.
Roger dialled Phil Jones.
“Hello, Phil Jones Investigations.”
“Hello Phil, it’s Roger Maynard again. I just received a call from my mum. Then Kevin O’Connor came on the phone. He’s kidnapped my parents. Then when I spoke to Mum she tried to tell me where they were and I heard a loud scream then someone said something like, “You stupid bastard, you’ve hit her too hard”. Then the phone went dead.”
“Which phone did he call you on?”
“He called me on the number I only gave to the police. The other one was destroyed in the fire.”
“Did your mum or dad have that number?”
“No. I only gave them the family phone number.”
“Now you understand why I told you to get two phones. He wasn’t to know that, and neither was the person he’s got on the inside at the police station. This helps to confirm it.”
Suddenly Roger could see another call coming in. “Phil, I’ll call you back.”
“Hello.”
“Listen carefully. We’ll do an exchange. Your parents for £500,000 in cash.”
“I heard my mother scream. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Now listen–”
“No, you fucking listen. I want to speak to my mother. Now!”
“She can’t come to the phone.”
“Listen you bastard. I don’t care what you do with me. You made sure of that when you killed my daughter, but if I find you’ve also harmed my parents, I’ll come after you with everything I’ve got. Put her on the phone.”
“Okay. There was a little accident. But she’ll be fine.”
Then Roger recognised his dad, shouting away from somewhere in the background.
“They’ve killed her, son. They’ve killed your mum.”
“Shut up, old man.”
Roger heard Kevin O’Connor’s voice. “Tyson got a little carried away and accidentally hit her harder than he thought. But we’ve still got your dad. The choice is yours. We can do the exchange, or he can die a slow and very unpleasant death. How much is your father worth to you?”
“I’ll get the money. It’s not a problem. I just need some time. It will take me a couple of days to find that amount in cash without raising suspicion. But I warn you. Look after my father. Make sure nothing happens to him, or you won’t see a single penny. And how do I know you’ll let him go after I hand over the money?”
“You have my guarantee.”
“I wouldn’t trust you any further than I could throw you.”
“What choice do you have?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
DEAD MAN WALKING
Roger sat in the coffee lounge next to reception, waiting, when he saw Phil Jones’ car pull up outside.
“Hello, Roger. Sorry, I got here as fast as I could.”
“Thanks, Phil. I understand you must have other work on.”
“Did you ask Gerry? Is the meeting room available?”
“Yes, he said we could use it.”
Roger sat down at the table. Phil went over to a coffee machine.
“Sorry, dying for a coffee. I haven’t stopped all morning. Would you like a cup?”
Both men sat facing each other.
Roger went through everything that had happened.
“Obviously I can’t be seen to get involved in anything illegal,” Phil replied, “and I wouldn’t want to. However, seeing as we are dealing with the O’Connor clan, I can tell you, in my opinion, going down the normal route won’t work. They’ve been running rings round the police for years. Kevin and his family don’t give a fig for anyone except themselves.”
“My advice is to involve the police and tell them about your parents, especially if, as you say, you suspect your mother has been killed. But I can’t guarantee the outcome as I suspect your father is being held somewhere the police are not aware of and a place with no direct connection to Kevin.
“But if you’re determined not to involve the police then off the record I’m going to suggest some things that are, shall we say, in the grey area. I could get into a lot of trouble, but this could be the only way you have a chance of seeing your father alive again. This is totally off the record. And if it doesn’t go according to plan you could end up dead alongside your father. But I have to be honest and say, where the O’Connor’s are concerned, you’re probably already a dead man walking.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
YELLOW SUBMARINE
Following the ‘off the record’ advice from Phil and after a lot of thought, Roger sat down in his room at the Milton Motel and dialled his mum’s number.
A voice he recognised as Kevin O’Connor answered wi
th a gruff “Yeah.”
“I’ll do a swop for my father. I’ve already started to put things in place to raise the cash. But I need forty-eight hours. If you look after my father in a decent way and I get to speak to him just before the exchange, then we have a deal.”
“What about the police?”
“I haven’t spoken to them and I won’t. I think you know I’m not going to get them involved. You’ve taken virtually everything from me, my only daughter and my lovely mother. All I have left is my dad. I just want to make sure he’s safe at the end of this.”
“Two days it is. Your dad stays healthy until then. And no funny business.”
“That’s more your sort of thing. I play by the book, as you are aware. I’ll call you as soon as everything is in place.”
Roger dropped the phone by his side on the bed and put his hands over his face.
One chance. That’s all he had. If something went wrong, then his dad would be dead. The problem was, he knew even if he did the exchange, in all probability, O’Connor wouldn’t let his father walk free. He knew too much.
He had already checked the tracking devices he had attached to Kevin’s 4x4 and the Transit van on his computer, but there was no signal. The batteries must have gone flat.
Suddenly his phone dinged with a text message from a withheld number.
‘Alley club. Tomorrow night. 1 to 3 a.m., Park Street. Call 07239 445445. Yellow Submarine. Good luck.’
Roger dialled the number.
“Hello.”
“I was given your number by an associate. He told me to say Yellow Submarine.”
“So how can I help you?”
“I need to get my hands on a couple of special items not available in the shops, if you get my drift.”
