Nowhere to Run

by Jack Slater

  The other girl tried to say more, but was clearly also gagged.

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Lauren swallowed, but it went the wrong way and she began to choke and cough. She heard the other girl trying to say something through her gag, but couldn’t make it out. Then she moved in the darkness. Lauren felt hands brush against her clothes. Her choking was getting more urgent as she fought for breath. The other girl’s hands fumbled blindly, moving from her cardigan to her blouse to the knee-length sock that was tied across her face as a gag. She felt the gag being pulled away and stiffened her neck, pulling back to help. The knotted cloth snapped free and she was coughing and gasping.

  Finally, with a clear airway, the coughing fit ended, leaving her panting for breath.

  ‘Thanks,’ she gasped. ‘That nearly killed me. Roll over, I’ll get yours.’

  Lauren felt the girl roll away, heard the rustle of movement, then felt hair against her face. The girl’s body pressed warm against hers before moving downward as Lauren went the other way until her head bumped painfully into the wall.

  ‘Ouch. You’ll have to go further. I’ve hit the wall,’ she said.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  Lauren rolled over and got to her knees. Felt around with her bound hands. ‘Where are you?’ The sharp ends of the hay dug into her shins, but she ignored them as she searched awkwardly. She touched wool, then cotton. Skin, firm over bone, then the softness of a cheek. Cloth. A sock. She grunted and fumbled along the tightly stretched material, towards the girl’s mouth. Her finger brushed a lip and the girl grunted something. Lauren got a hold of the material and pulled. She felt the other girl pulling back, the material stretching. Lauren’s fingers ached with the strain, but she kept pulling, straining to get the gag free. Then her fingers gave way. She cried out as sock snapped back into place and the other girl moaned in frustration.

  ‘Sorry.’

  They tried again. The girl opened her mouth as wide as she could, tilting her head and working her jaw to try to get it free. Lauren felt the gag catch briefly on the girl’s front teeth, but then it was out.

  ‘There.’ Lauren heard the snap of the girl’s teeth closing, then the draw of breath. ‘No use yelling,’ she said. ‘Nobody will hear.’

  The other girl moaned and rolled onto her back. ‘Where are we? What’s happening?’

  CHAPTER 5

  Pete waited until they were in the car and Jane had turned out of the Whitlocks’ drive.

  ‘So, what did you get from her?’

  ‘You were right. She doesn’t like her brother-in-law. He’s way too familiar for her taste – with her and with Rosie – but she’s not aware of any signs of actual abuse, from him or from anyone else. And, as a teacher, she should know what to look for.’

  ‘Yes, but is she being honest? With us or with herself?’

  Jane shrugged. ‘I suppose she could be in denial because it’s easier that way.’

  ‘Regardless of what she says, we’ve got to check everyone out for ourselves. Friends, family, colleagues, the lot. I’d better phone Lou. Tell her I’m going to be late.’

  ‘You already are, boss. You should have been home forty minutes ago.’

  ‘Shit.’ He pulled his mobile from his pocket, called up his home phone and hit ‘dial’.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Lou? It’s me. Sorry, love, I’m running a bit late. We had a case come in about twenty minutes before I was due to knock off. The kind of thing I can’t just leave to the morning.’

  ‘Why’s it got to be yours?’

  ‘Everybody else has got a full caseload. I’m just back, so mine’s empty. Simple as that.’ He shot Jane a glance that told her to keep her raised eyebrow to herself.

  He heard Louise sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘All right.’

  ‘I’ll bring fish and chips, how’s that?’

  ‘We’ll see you when we do then.’

  ‘I shan’t be too late.’ He ended the call and looked across at Jane.

  ‘None of my business, boss.’ She shrugged.

  ‘That’s right. But, no, I’m not deliberately trying to stay away from home. This does need sorting. And she wouldn’t understand that, in the circumstances, so I just tried to make both our lives easier, all right?’

  ‘So, where do we start?’

  ‘We need to speak to this Becky Sanderson and do background checks on the people Alistair Whitlock’s given us. Also, we need to check Jessica’s route from home to the school for CCTV cameras, get the call log on Rosie’s phone and see if we can get into her laptop. Then we see who we can get hold of and go from there.’

  *

  ‘We’re in a barn in the middle of bloody nowhere. And what’s going on is some sicko bastard and his sidekick have snatched us and put us here, to play with as they feel like.’

  ‘But . . .’ The girl paused. ‘You mean . . .’

  ‘Yeah. Bloody paedos.’ Lauren shuddered. ‘Perverts.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ The girl was well spoken, almost posh sounding.

  ‘Lauren Carter. What’s yours?’

  ‘Rosie. Rosie Whitlock. How old are you?’

  ‘Ten last month. You?’

  ‘Thirteen.’

  ‘Well, thanks again for getting that bloody gag out of my mouth. I bloody near choked on it.’ She felt the damp material hanging around her neck like a cowboy’s bandana.

  ‘That’s all right. Thanks for helping with mine.’

  ‘So, what now?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, we’ve got to get out of here, haven’t we? I mean, for one thing, they’re not going to like it that we’ve got our gags off. Plus, if we stay put, they’re going to . . . Well, you know what they’re going to do.’

  ‘Oh God!’

  ‘Yeah, where’s he when you need him?’

  *

  Pete handed Rosie Whitlock’s laptop to Dave Miles.

  ‘Here, see if you can get into that, will you?’ He sat down at his desk. ‘Jane, you get hold of Becky Sanderson. Find out what she’s got to say about Rosie. Is Colin still in?’ He directed the question to Dave.

  ‘No, he’s gone off home.’

  ‘What about Fast-track Phil?’

  ‘In his office.’

  ‘He would be, wouldn’t he? OK, I’ll go and have a word.’ He got up and headed for Adam Silverstone’s office, going via the corridor, rather than through the DI’s office. He knocked sharply on the door.

  ‘Come.’

  He stepped in. Silverstone was behind his desk, a file open in front of him. ‘Ah, Peter. What have we got?’

  He closed the file as Pete shut the door and stood opposite him.

  ‘A thirteen-year-old girl, the mother a junior school teacher, father a corporate lawyer, disappeared from outside her school. Bearing in mind their address in St Leonard’s and the school she goes to, which is Risingbrook, we have to at least consider the possibility of a kidnap, although there’s been no contact as yet, according to the parents.’

  ‘And you believe them?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘So we need to get a team in there for the night and perhaps tomorrow. Phone taps on landline and mobiles so that we can trace any callers.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘I take it you’ve got their permission for all that?’

  ‘Sir.’ Pete nodded.

  ‘I’ll get on to HQ and set it up then. Perhaps Jane can go with the team, to introduce them. I’ll also get on to the press office, get them to hold off until we’ve established a few of the facts. And you’re following up other leads, I take it?’

  ‘Friends and family. Local paedophiles. Possible contacts on her mobile and computer. Considering the time of day, there’s only so much we can do immediately, of course. But, come morning, we can look for possible witnesses and so on. Go down to the school and interview parents, teachers and pupils.’

  ‘Quite. Carry on, then, Peter. And let me know if you need more manpower. As I said,
we have to give this top priority.’

  ‘Sir.’

  Silverstone was lifting his phone as Pete turned to leave.

  Back at his desk, he saw that Dave was working on Rosie’s laptop. ‘Any joy yet, Dave?’

  ‘Not yet. I got on to her mobile phone provider, though, got her call log. Nothing out of the ordinary on it. No calls from unusual numbers. And I had it pinged to get its location, but it’s not just off, it’s completely dead.’

  So, the battery and/or SIM card had been removed. Someone wasn’t stupid, Pete thought. If this was an abduction, that was not a good sign. And how many thirteen-year-olds knew that you had to take the battery out of a phone to prevent it giving away its location, even if it was turned off? ‘I don’t like that. Not at all. I’ll get onto the PND and see what I can find out about the people on Alistair’s list.’ He fired up his computer and logged into the Police National Database. With Alistair Whitlock’s list at his elbow, he began to search.

  First Jason Whitlock then Michael Gibbons came up clean. No criminal record or known associations on either. He looked up. ‘Jane, have you got the names of Becky Sanderson’s parents there?’

  She put a hand over her phone. ‘Neil and Geraldine.’ She returned her attention to the person on the other end of the line. ‘Sorry about that. You were saying . . . ?’

  Pete typed Neil Sanderson into the computer. The screen flashed up.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jane said into the phone and hung up. ‘What you got, boss?’

  ‘Neil Sanderson. No criminal record. Regular CRB checks. Looks like he’s into judo. And, it says here, he’s a known associate of one of Jim’s customers, downstairs in the holding cells. One Stephen Lockwood. Priors for drug possession and distribution and living off immoral earnings.’

  ‘Ooh. A pimp and a pusher. Maybe we’d best go and have a word?’

  ‘I’ll call down first, see who actually brought him in. Don’t want to go stepping on toes as soon as I get my foot back in the door, do I?’

  Jane laughed.

  ‘What, you going soft in your old age, boss?’ Dave asked, looking up from Rosie’s laptop.

  ‘I suppose you’ve never heard of old age and treachery, Dave.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It always beats youth and skill.’ Jane grinned. ‘Not that you’ve got that much youth on your side.’

  ‘Oi!’ He hit a key on the laptop and sat back abruptly in his chair. ‘Gotcha. I’ve got into this thing though.’

  ‘Well, she didn’t keep a paper diary,’ Pete said. ‘So if there’s going to be anything to indicate she was unhappy at home or at school, it should be on there. What did Becky Sanderson have to say?’

  ‘She’s not aware of anything wrong in Rosie’s life, boss. No bullying, cyber or otherwise. Apparently, she’s quite the girl to be seen with. A leader, not a follower. Not a bad girl though. Good grades, into sports, friendly. An all-round nice kid. She just didn’t turn up at school today. No phone call, no text, no nothing. And it’s not something she’s done before. Not her style at all. She’s too conscientious.’

  ‘Boyfriends?’

  ‘Not that Becky’s aware of. And you saw her parents’ reaction to the idea.’

  The phone on Pete’s desk rang and he picked it up. ‘DS Gayle.’

  ‘This is DS Parker from Middlemoor. Communications. I gather you need a phone tap set up?’

  ‘Ah. Yes. Possible kidnap. Seems unlikely, but we’ve got to cover all bases. The address is in St Leonard’s. My DC’s been there. She can go with you and give you the intro, if you pick her up from here.’

  ‘Right. We’ll be there in twenty.’

  He put the phone down and Jane was looking at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Nice of you to volunteer me, boss.’

  ‘I didn’t. Fast-track did. I just forgot to tell you. It shouldn’t take long if you go in your car. Just lead them round there, introduce them, then you can scoot off.’

  ‘What about all this?’ She indicated the paperwork on her desk, her notebook, computer and phone.

  ‘There’s only so much we can do tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay and carry on. What about you, Dave?’

  ‘I’m all right. I can stop as long as it needs.’

  ‘Right. Between the two of us, what we can do at this time of day won’t take too long.’

  ‘OK. Thanks, then, boss.’ She got up, picked up her coat and bag and headed for the door. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘’Night, Red,’ Dave called, closing Rosie’s computer down and setting it aside. ‘So, what else do we need to do, boss?’

  ‘Well, when you’ve done with that thing, there’s the parents’ alibis to check, you could carry on down this list of contacts or see who we’ve got in the area in the way of known paedophiles and check on them.’

  ‘Right. Lovely.’

  ‘Meantime, I’ll see about Stephen Lockwood.’ He slid the list across to Dave, picked up the phone and dialled an internal number.

  ‘Custody desk. Sergeant James.’

  ‘Bob. Pete Gayle. You’ve got a guest down there, Stephen Lockwood. Who was his AO?’

  ‘Hello, Pete. How you doing? Hold on, I’ll find out for you.’

  Pete waited, hearing the tapping of a keyboard behind James’ heavy breathing. ‘Here we are. The man himself. Jim Hancock. Why? What’s up?’

  ‘Oh, I might have a connection with another case. I’ll talk to you later.’

  ‘Cheers, Pete.’

  He ended the call and dialled again.

  ‘DS Hancock.’

  ‘Jim, it’s Pete.’

  ‘Hello. You still in the office?’

  ‘Yeah. Looking into this missing girl. Thing is, I’ve got a crossover between that case and one of your arrestees from this morning. A Stephen Lockwood. He’s a known associate of the father of my victim’s best friend. Do you mind if I have a word with him? Not as a suspect or anything, just a possible witness.’

  ‘He’ll want something in return, mate. I’d bet on it.’

  ‘If so, what can I offer him?’

  Jim sucked in air. ‘He’s a prime player, Pete. He’s going down this time, so the cupboard’s bare unless he can give us his international connections as well as what you want.’

  ‘Oh, well. I’ll have a go anyway, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Sure. Go for it. Just don’t hold out too much hope, eh?’

  ‘Fair enough. See you tomorrow.’

  He put the phone down again and got up from his desk. ‘Right, I’m off to the dungeons.’

  Dave looked up from his screen. ‘There’s nothing on her laptop to indicate anything amiss.’

  ‘OK. That was quick.’

  ‘We aim to please, boss.’

  Pete headed for the door, the squad room almost empty now, with the day shift nearly all gone.

  Downstairs, he signed into the custody suite and let the fat, wheezing middle-aged sergeant lead him along the narrow corridor between the cells. He stopped at one about a third of the way along on the left, shot the steel shutter on the hatch and peered in, then inserted the key and turned it. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks, Bob.’

  Pete stepped in and the door clanged shut behind him. ‘Hello, Stephen. DS Gayle.’

  Lockwood was in his mid-thirties with long, straggly brown hair and skin that looked like it had needed a wash since soap was invented. He stared blankly up at Pete from the built-in bed at the back of the cell, where he slouched indolently.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I gather you’re a pal of Neil Sanderson’s.’ Pete leaned against the wall, just inside the door and folded his arms.

  ‘Don’t know him.’

  ‘Yes, you do. I’m not involved in the drugs thing. His daughter’s a friend of a girl who’s gone missing. I want to know if he’d be involved in something like that. As far as you know.’

  ‘What? Kiddy-fiddling? I don’t know nothing about that.’

&nb
sp; Pete sighed. ‘I didn’t say you did, did I? I want to know if Neil Sanderson might, that’s all.’

  ‘Then why don’t you ask him?’

  ‘Because I don’t like being lied to, Stevie. And if he was involved, that’s what he’d do, isn’t it? Lie to me.’

  Lockwood laughed. ‘You’re in the wrong job, ain’t you? If you don’t like being lied to.’

  ‘I don’t like it. Doesn’t mean I can’t see it when it happens. Or that I won’t do something about it.’

  ‘Well, screw you, piggy. I ain’t telling you anything. And that’s no lie.’

  ‘So, you’d rather see a paedophile get away with it than talk to me?’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘Makes you an accessory after the fact, that’s what, Stevie. And kiddy-fiddling, as you call it, gets you a whole lot more downtime than pushing a few pills. Whether or not I let it be known in Her Majesty’s hotel, up the road, that’s what you’re in for.’

  Lockwood looked considerably paler all of a sudden. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  Pete raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked on the other man’s, and waited.

  Lockwood swallowed and wiped a hand over his face. ‘Look, I know he likes them young, but I don’t know nothing about nothing like that. Why don’t you ask his missus? His kid? They’d know, wouldn’t they?’

  Pete watched him carefully for a long second. ‘All right. Thank you, Stephen. And how to you know Sanderson?’

  ‘Judo. I used to do a bit.’ He sat up straighter, staring at Pete.

  Pete smiled and pushed himself off the wall. He tapped on the door. The key turned and it swung open. ‘Thanks, Bob.’

  ‘You get what you need?’ The uniformed man swung the door shut with a clang and locked it.

  ‘Mm. Not that it got me any further forward.’

  CHAPTER 6

  By the time Pete turned into the street where he lived, barely a mile from the station, the smell of fish and chips that permeated the car had gone from appetising to nauseating as he worried about the problems this case could throw up. Its similarities to their own were bound to cause trouble at home. It would be a reminder, if nothing else. But there was nothing he could do about that. The girl needed him – and needed him to be on top of his game. To find her before the sick bastard who’d taken her – if that was what had happened – went one step further and killed her like the Jane Doe they had discussed earlier.