Nowhere to Run

by Jack Slater

  ‘There are toilets just round the corner there.’

  Jessica heaved, but managed not to puke. She took a deep breath and looked up. Her skin was pale and shining. As Alistair caught her elbow she looked around for her chair and sat back down again, fixing her gaze on Pete. ‘Malcolm? Really?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. We’re still investigating, of course, but there is evidence.’

  ‘Well, at least, if you’ve got him, no other girls will have to go through what Rosie did or worse,’ Alistair said firmly.

  Pete nodded. ‘I’ll walk back with you, when you’re ready. No hurry, Mrs Whitlock. Get yourself steady first.’

  ‘I think a bit of fresh air might do me good if I can stop my legs from shaking.’ She pushed herself upright and walked slowly between Alistair and Pete.

  Back in A & E, having taken a call from Dave Miles on the way across to tell him of Burton’s arrest, Pete led Alistair and Jessica to the bay where Rosie waited for them with Jane, the curtains still drawn along the sides of the bed but now open at the foot. Rosie was sitting up, dressed in a white T-shirt and pale green scrubs. The clothes she’d had on when she arrived would have gone for forensic examination, he knew.

  Jessica rushed in, arms stretched wide. ‘Rosie! Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re all right.’ She clamped her into a crushing hug.

  Rosie responded almost reluctantly, but she closed her eyes and submitted as Alistair followed his wife in and bent to embrace her from the other side.

  Pete looked away and found Jane looking at him.

  ‘You know Dave just brought Malcolm Burton in?’

  ‘Yeah. Where?’ he asked.

  She stayed quiet for a moment. ‘You need to stay away, boss. You know that. If Tommy’s involved, anything he says in your presence is potentially contaminated. Inadmissible.’

  ‘Where is he?’ Pete said, low and firm.

  ‘He could walk if you go after him now.’ She thrust her chin at the reunited family behind him. ‘Look at her. Could you honestly jeopardise her chance of justice for the sake of something that could well turn out to be a lie anyway? And those two dead girls – what about them?’

  ‘They’re dead. Tommy’s alive. Or, he was a few hours ago. And if Burton’s in here, then he’s potentially out there, somewhere, alone. What do you think is more important to me right now, Jane?’

  She looked up at him. ‘Right now? Tommy. You wouldn’t be a father if he wasn’t. But an hour ago and a few hours from now, it would be justice. For Rosie, for Lauren Carter and for Amanda Kernick. And for all those potential victims that letting Burton loose again will put at risk.’

  ‘Aah!’ Pete felt the frustration twisting his features into a grimace as he spun away before he hit out at something or yelled at Jane in a way that he knew he would regret later.

  She was right, of course, yet he couldn’t let go of the possibility of finding Tommy alive and well, after all these months.

  ‘Talk to Dave then. Tell him what we know. And tell him to get whatever there is to get out of the bastard or I’ll do it myself.’

  Jane knew perfectly well what he meant. She held his gaze until she saw that he was beginning to calm down. ‘I’ll tell him,’ she said at last. ‘In the meantime, you need to call the DI and fill him in. Fully. He’ll tell you to stay away from Burton, but you’re already doing that. Right?’ Her eyes searched his for confirmation. He didn’t give it, but nor did he deny the fact. ‘So, no loss there. And any lead is better than none on Tommy. He’ll pass it on to DS Phillips and kick-start their investigation. With any luck you’ll have Tommy home in a few days.’

  Pete pursed his lips, staring at Jane as he struggled not to bite the hand that he knew was feeding him. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘Give my best to Rosie and her family before they leave. And get what you can from her about Tommy.’

  ‘I already have, boss.’ She patted him on the arm and jerked her head towards the door. ‘Off you go, now, before you get yourself in trouble.’

  Pete grunted. ‘I’m already in trouble,’ he said, as he stalked grumpily away.

  *

  The squad room was dark and deserted when Pete walked in a few minutes later. All the lights were off, all the computer screens dark. The only source of light was Colin Underhill’s office, in the corner to his left, the door of which was half open.

  Pete had called Colin as he walked back to his car, catching him as he was about to leave. He had asked him to stay. ‘I’m on the way in. I need to talk to you. Face to face.’

  Colin had asked what about, but Pete was adamant. It had to be in person. It was the only way.

  He crossed to his desk, unlocked it and reached into the middle drawer for the file on his son. Then he headed for the DI’s office. He could see Colin, head down, concentrating.

  That was Colin all over. If he was here, he’d be working. But Pete had neither knocked nor spoken when Underhill said, ‘Pete. I hear you’ve been spreading your influence up to Bath. Had a phone call from a DI Trueman. He said that, as Steven Southam came from Swindon – well, just outside of it, actually. He had a farm there. Bred dogs. Mostly breeds that aren’t legal any more. Anyway, they got on to the Wiltshire force and they’ve still got the evidence in storage from when Southam was charged and convicted, some of which they’d never identified. But amongst it was a pair of girl’s underwear that turned out to match what Alison Stretton was known to have been wearing when she disappeared. They’ll do DNA to confirm it, but they said it was pretty distinctive. It hadn’t been picked up on because Avon and Somerset never publicised it.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’

  Colin tipped his head and put down his pen. ‘So, what’s up? What did you want to talk about?’

  Pete put the file down in front of him. ‘I expect you’ve read this?’

  The DI lifted the cover for confirmation then let it drop closed again. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Somebody put it on my desk earlier. I don’t know who. I haven’t read all of it, but I don’t much like what I have.’

  Colin grimaced. He waved Pete to a chair and leaned back in his own.

  ‘Thing is, talking to Rosie Whitlock, there was a boy there with her. It was Tommy.’

  Underhill sat forward abruptly. ‘You’re sure?’

  Pete nodded. ‘She knows him as TJ, but it’s him. I showed her a photo and she confirmed it. Jane’s spoken to her in more depth. I don’t know what she’s told her though.’

  ‘You’ll have to stay clear of Burton, or anything to do with him, from now on then.’

  ‘So, what am I supposed to do?’

  ‘Go home. Be with your wife. Your daughter. You’ve got good people here. Jane or Dave can head the tidying-up operation. They’ll have to liaise with Simon, get him up to date on Tommy’s whereabouts and so on. Dave arrested Burton, so he can question him. He’s perfectly competent. And Jane can do the search of Burton’s house. If there’s another potential victim somewhere, that’ll have to be sooner, rather than later. We’ll have to get a search team out to the barn, come morning, but, in the meantime, there might be clues in the house to another likely location. I’ll talk to Jane about that.’ He rested his hand on the file. ‘And to Simon about this.’

  Pete grimaced. He didn’t want Jane to get into trouble over the file. ‘Thing is, my team will need it now, with Tommy being another potential victim of Burton’s.’

  ‘Maybe. But they didn’t until now. It was specifically not your case or theirs.’

  ‘I know, but it’s not like it left the squad room, is it? It didn’t get into the public’s hands. Or the press’.’

  ‘Not this time, but what about next? If I let it lie, you never know. Start of a slippery slope.’

  God, what could he say to put Colin off this? ‘That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it? I’d have thought morale was low enough already, without banging on about data protection rules.’ He wanted to say more, but didn’t want to over-egg it. With diffic
ulty, he left it at that.

  Colin looked at him. ‘Maybe.’

  What the hell did that mean? But he had to drop it or risk making the DI suspicious. ‘Well, I’m off home then.’ He looked up at the clock on the wall of Underhill’s office. It was 7.17. ‘Blimey. I didn’t realise it was that late.’

  ‘Early for you, the last few days.’

  Pete shrugged. ‘True. Lou and Annie’ll be shocked.’ His shoulders slumped ‘But, what am I going to tell them about Tommy?’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell until tomorrow, at least. We know he was still alive this afternoon. He was involved in Rosie Whitlock’s abduction. But we don’t know enough yet to understand the circumstances. And they’ll want facts. To know what’s going on with him.’

  Pete nodded.

  ‘So, keep schtum for now, until you’ve got something concrete to say.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Just tell them that the case is almost closed. We’ve got the girl and the bloke responsible. Leave it at that.’

  Standard operating procedure, Pete thought. Same old same old. Except this wasn’t. One way or another, it involved his son.

  ‘Have a beer and an early night,’ Underhill told him. ‘You’ve earned it. And tomorrow, you’ve got a whole pile of paperwork to do.’

  Pete grunted. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Goodnight, Pete.’

  ‘’Night, Guv.’

  *

  Darkness enveloped him, inky and oppressive. Ever since the clocks changed, the street lights had gone off at eleven instead of midnight and come on at five in the morning so that, although they routinely slept with their curtains open – the opaque vertical blinds made them effectively redundant and the small amount of light coming in made it easier if he got called out in the night – it was now as dark, here in the city, as it would have been in a remote village like Holcomb Burnell.

  Bloody council and their bloody cutbacks, he thought. Turning the street lights off might save a bit of cash, but it didn’t add to public safety. Did they think about that when they came up with these damn fool ideas?

  He turned onto his right side and tried to relax enough to sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come.

  He had been tossing and turning ever since they came to bed. Beside him, Louise was quiet. He wasn’t sure if she was asleep. He thought not and he desperately wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her. Staying silent was eating him up. Much longer, and he’d lose his marbles entirely, and what good would that be to anyone? He’d be forced to have more time off, this time on sick leave.

  But what could he say? What could he tell her?

  Nothing, with any degree of certainty.

  He punched his pillow, then reached down and scratched yet another tiny itch. They had been springing up here and there, all over his body, ever since he got into bed. He knew they were psychosomatic, but it didn’t help stop them any more than ignoring them would.

  His phone buzzed softly on the bedside cabinet and he pushed himself up on one elbow and reached for it.

  Caller ID said it was Jane Bennett. He pressed the green icon to accept the call. ‘Hello,’ he said softly.

  ‘Hi, boss. It’s Jane.’

  ‘Hold on a sec,’ he said and climbed carefully out of bed. He went out to the hallway and headed for the stairs. As he stepped gently down them, he said, ‘OK, what’s up?’

  ‘We just finished the search of Burton’s house. Two things of significance. One: he has had a boy staying with him for some time. Don’t know who for sure. Forensics will have to confirm that with DNA. But records show Burton as an only child and a bachelor, which is suggestive.’

  Pete stepped carefully over the squeaky stair. ‘Yes,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Sorry. Pun not intended. The other thing was a secret room in the loft. He’s got a darkroom up there. It’s not been used for a while. Everything’s digital, these days, isn’t it? But behind a set of shelves there is a hidden door into another room. No windows. It’s set up as a projection room – 35mm, digital and 8mm. And there are stacks of pictures and films in there. I had a quick scan through some of the recent stuff, the digital files. Some of it looks like security-type film from the barn. All stored on a hard drive, linked up to a laptop and a digital projector. There’s some pretty sick stuff on there, boss. And some of it includes a boy molesting the girls. You only ever see his back, plus he’s always wearing one of those full head masks, like the Mexican wrestlers. No way to identify him. But the girls he’s with include Lauren Carter and Rosie.’

  Pete reached the kitchen and took a glass from the cupboard to get himself a drink of water. ‘OK. Thanks for letting me know, Jane. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Goodnight, boss.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ He ended the call, poured himself a glass of water and called Dave.

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘Is he talking yet?’

  ‘No. Still out for the count. He’s in recovery. They finished the operation about ten minutes ago.’

  Pete sighed and took a mouthful of water. ‘Alright. Thanks, Dave. And good job tonight.’

  ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘’Night, boss.’

  Pete ended the call, finished his drink and headed back upstairs. He climbed gently back into bed and settled down.

  ‘So, what’s happening?’ Louise asked in the darkness.

  He blinked. ‘Jane’s just finished searching the suspect’s house. Found plenty of incriminating evidence. And the man himself is still unconscious after the operation to repair his leg, where Dave ran him over with his bike.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m not stupid, Pete. There’s something more going on. What is it?’

  Pete grimaced. She was recovering quickly, if she was noticing things like that. It was disconcerting that she could read him so easily, even in the dark. But then, they had lived together for fifteen years.

  ‘There is more going on,’ he admitted, ‘but it’s not something I can talk about. Not yet. It’s still up in the air.’

  ‘Then forget about it until it’s settled,’ she said. ‘Get some sleep.’

  Pete couldn’t help the chuckle that shook his belly. He wished to God it was as easy as that. He leaned over and kissed her hair. ‘I do love you,’ he said.

  ‘You hate it when I’m right, though, don’t you?’

  This time he laughed out loud. ‘And there you go being right again.’

  CHAPTER 35

  ‘Morning, Malcolm. How’s your pins?’ Dave asked brightly as he walked into the private room at the end of the surgical ward. He gave Burton’s knee beneath the blankets a friendly tap, making him wince as he went to the chair beside the bed and sat down.

  ‘You had breakfast yet?’ he continued. ‘I know they wake you up early in these places. I tell you what, they do a bloody good fry-up in the restaurant here. Had one before I came in. Bacon, sausage, fried egg, hash browns, mushrooms and beans with a slice of toast on the side and a mug of tea.’ He smacked his lips. ‘Beautiful. Sets you up for the day, it does. And you and me, we’ve got a long old day ahead of us, eh?’

  ‘Why?’ Burton frowned, confused.

  ‘A lot of talking to get done. What d’you reckon? Should I send Mickey, out there, for some tea? Bit of lubrication?’

  Burton’s confusion turned to doubt.

  ‘Oh, you’re safe enough with me,’ Dave assured him. ‘Only problem is, he won’t be there to hear the screams, eh?’ He laughed. ‘That’s the advantage of us talking here, instead of at the station. There’s no recorders. Unless I decide to use my phone instead of taking notes. And being a hospital, and a surgical ward, you’re expected to holler and wail a bit now and then.’

  Burton shifted in the bed. The doubt on his face had turned now to fear. ‘You can’t do that. I want my lawyer.’

  ‘Your lawyer? What for? I don’t need to ask you about what you’ve done. Between the van, the barn,
your attic and the boy’s room in your house, we’ve got all the evidence we need. We hardly even need the girl’s testimony. Twenty-five to life is your next stop, matey. Guaranteed. In fact, if I was to rough you up a bit, it would be doing you a favour. Get you accustomed to what your life’s about to become. One long round of fear and pain.’ He stood up and tapped Burton’s plastered leg again, harder this time, then leaned over him. ‘No, Malcolm, I’m not here to hear your confession or your excuses. I’m not interested, frankly. The only thing I want from you is to tell me about the boy. What did you do with him? We know he was in the barn yesterday afternoon. The girl told us that much. But he wasn’t with you when you got home, so where is he now? What did you do with him?’

  ‘This is where I say I want a deal, isn’t it? Then you get my lawyer and your boss and they agree on something between them.’

  Dave shook his head slowly. ‘You really don’t want to see my boss, Malcy. I let him in here, your next stop won’t be twenty-five to life, it’ll be the mortuary. No way he’d make any deals with you. You tell me or you don’t. The only deal you get is, if you don’t, you’ll find yourself in general population after an accidental leak of what you’re in there for. And, by Christ, you’ll know what it is to suffer then, believe me. I’ve seen it and it ain’t pretty.’ He shook his head again. ‘Not pretty at all. So, do you want to tell me or not? Final answer, no conferring.’ He stood back, hands in his pockets. ‘No?’ He shrugged and started for the door. ‘OK. We know about your auntie in the village. Have you got any other relatives that we ought to invite to the funeral?’

  Burton’s eyes widened. ‘You wouldn’t dare. There’d be an outcry. Police brutality gone amok.’

  ‘What brutality? We won’t even be there. Inmates fight amongst themselves all the time. Probably get reported as an accident. Nobody will ever go to court over it, that’s for sure. Anyway, your choice, you live with it. Or not. Bye.’

  He headed for the door again and was turning the handle before Burton stopped him again.

  ‘All right. What do you want to know?’