Stranger Child

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Stranger Child Page 18

by Rachel Abbott


  She could sympathise with David’s obvious confusion; she felt bewildered herself. Caroline’s accident had occurred less than a week before Jack’s death and only days before she had received his suicide note. Not that she had recognised it as such when it had arrived. The wording suggested that he was wallowing in some kind of self-pity, and she was so appalled at the way he had dumped her all those months previously that she had dismissed it as a cry for sympathy for all the mistakes he had made in his life. She’d decided he wasn’t getting any sympathy from her. He could whistle for it.

  And then he was dead, and she knew she should have done something when she received the note – called Tom, phoned Jack to talk it through – anything. Her disgust at his treatment of her didn’t mean she wished him any harm.

  She had never understood about Melissa, though, who had appeared to come from nowhere, and had been with Jack for the last six months of his life. To this day, Melissa had been one piece of the puzzle in their relationship that had eluded her. His suicide was the other.

  Emma was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she had momentarily lost sight of what mattered here and now. She glanced at Natasha, whose eyes betrayed a hint of uncertainty, and Emma felt a glimmer of hope. She still felt as if somebody had put a hand into her chest and ripped her heart out through her ribs, but there was a faint pulse of optimism hovering at the edge of her consciousness.

  ‘Are you okay, Em?’ David asked. She glanced across at him, above Natasha’s head, and nodded.

  ‘Do you think it was my Jack?’ she said, knowing the answer before he spoke.

  ‘I can’t think who else it could have been, but I have no idea why he was calling Caroline.’

  ‘What was their relationship?’

  David’s head spun round. ‘What?’

  Emma closed her eyes for a second. She had phrased that badly and should have known that David would only hear the word ‘relationship’.

  ‘I mean, how did she know him, and how come she knew him so well that he had her phone number?’

  Looking slightly mollified, David walked on a few yards before answering. If it turned out Caroline had been having an affair with Jack he would be devastated – and so would she.

  ‘You know he sorted out my computer security at work, don’t you?’ he said after a few moments, turning back towards Emma.

  ‘Of course – that’s how I was introduced to you and Caroline at those charity events. But I never thought she and Jack were close – on swapping mobile numbers terms.’

  ‘No, me neither,’ David muttered.

  ‘Did Caroline meet him first, or did you?’

  ‘It was me. I went to a seminar about internet security. He was the keynote speaker, and I was impressed. So when I needed to upgrade the system at work a few months later, I called him.’

  Natasha had walked on, her head down, lost in her own thoughts. They could leave her to her worries for a while.

  ‘And Caroline?’ Emma asked tentatively.

  ‘She used to stop by the office a couple of times a week – more sometimes. After Tasha went to school, Caroline found herself at a bit of a loose end. She wasn’t a joiner, if you know what I mean. She didn’t like going to the gym or anything like that, and she said being at home all day freaked her out. So she would come into town, have a look around the shops and then come to the office for an hour or so. Jack used to call in every few days to check on the work his team were doing, but that was way before Caroline’s accident. By the time she died, Jack had sold his company, and we hadn’t seen him for months at social events. I guess after you and he split up he didn’t enjoy them any more. I can’t think why he would have had Caroline’s mobile number, though.’

  Emma thought for a while.

  ‘If I had to guess, I’d say that while he was working for you he used the opportunity to get all your phone numbers. He was a hoarder of information. “Data is king” he used to say. So I’m not surprised he had her number. I’m more surprised that the police didn’t track the call back to him.’

  ‘They knew she’d taken a call just before the accident but they told me it was from an unregistered mobile.’

  Emma shook her head. Jack’s love of secrecy sometimes went to ridiculous lengths. For a while, as she talked to David about Jack, Emma felt temporarily glad of the distraction, but it didn’t take long for the aching void in her chest to return. Caroline and Jack were dead. They had been missed, but the pain of losing them was nothing in comparison to her fear for Ollie.

  Up ahead, Natasha suddenly thrust her hand into the pocket of her fleece and pulled out her mobile, pushing it to her ear. David and Emma both broke into a run at the same time.

  She spun round towards them, holding up one hand as a clear ‘stop’ signal, and brought her finger to her lips.

  ‘Hello, Rory,’ she said, looking down at her feet.

  Slowly she lifted her head and stared at Emma and David. Her eyes widened, and her pupils dilated.

  ‘Finn,’ she said. ‘I …’

  They could hear the rasping notes of a voice from two metres away, although they couldn’t make out the words. The tone was one of cold fury.

  ‘Finn, I didn’t tell them anything. I never mentioned Rory.’

  David started to move forwards, his hand out to take the phone from Tasha, but the girl shook her head furiously.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell Rory they’d seen me. I know I should have, then he could have changed the route. I’m sorry – I thought he’d be mad at me.’ Tasha’s voice had dropped to little more than a whisper, and her eyes were flooded with tears.

  ‘No, Finn, no. I promise – the police know nothing about the baby. Don’t hurt Ollie, Finn.’ The last words were whispered so quietly that the caller wouldn’t have heard them. But they were a plea from the heart.

  Tasha listened for a few more minutes, ended the call and folded at the knees. David grabbed her, lowering her to sit on the bank on the side of the track.

  ‘What, Tasha? What’s the matter? Who’s Finn, and what did he want?’ It was all Emma could do to stop herself shaking the girl. She reached forwards to grasp Natasha’s shoulders, but when she saw the girl’s eyes, black with fear, her hands dropped gently and rubbed Natasha’s arms.

  ‘I don’t know what they’ll do to me now. You were right – what you said last night. I should have told Rory about the CCTV. Finn says Rory’s being questioned by the police.’

  ‘Good,’ Emma said. ‘He looked a nasty bastard. Surely that’s a good thing?’

  ‘What?’ David clearly had no idea what they were talking about, but Emma and Natasha both ignored him. Now wasn’t the time for lengthy explanations.

  ‘Of course it’s not a good thing. They don’t trust me now. That means I’m probably going to die. Everything could go wrong now, don’t you see? And all because of me.’

  ‘What about Ollie?’ Emma asked. ‘What does this mean for Ollie?’

  Natasha shook her head again. ‘It changes everything. They don’t know if it’s safe to go ahead with the job. If it goes wrong, I’m dead. Finn’s got to see what the boss man says. I don’t know who he is – he’s like a shadow. I don’t think even Rory knows.’

  ‘What’s “the job”, Tasha?’ Emma asked. ‘Can’t we just give them some money and get Ollie back?’ But Tasha wasn’t listening.

  ‘It was meant to be over today. You could have had Ollie back and I could go home.’ Her head hung down and tears dripped unheeded onto the legs of her jeans.

  Emma crouched down in the muddy lane. ‘Nobody wants you to go anywhere, Tasha. We just want Ollie back. But we want you too. We’re not going to abandon you.’

  ‘Oh, you will. You might not think so, but you will.’

  Emma looked up at David, whose face in the weak sunlight had lines carved so deep that he looked twenty years older. She turned to Natasha and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

  ‘That’s not going to happen, Tasha. We’re not goi
ng to let you go.’

  Natasha’s whole body was shaking with the force of her tears, and her hands were covering her eyes.

  ‘Course you will. You still don’t get it, do you? I know you want Ollie, and I know nobody ever wanted me. Even Rory doesn’t want me – only what I can do for him.’

  David fell to his knees in the mud. ‘I don’t know what you and Emma are talking about, but I do know one thing. You were always very much loved and very much wanted, Tasha. You still are.’

  Natasha pulled her hands away from her eyes and for a moment her expression hardened.

  ‘That’s not true, is it? I was a pawn in a game. That’s what Rory says. It’s all I’ve ever been – a pawn.’

  Emma’s head was spinning with every word that had been spoken, but for now the only thing she wanted to think about was Ollie. She looked at David as he pulled his daughter towards him. For a moment, Natasha leaned into him – but with a sudden thrust, pushed him away.

  ‘Don’t.’

  David looked as if he had been shot, a mixture of emotions that Emma couldn’t quite decipher distorting his features.

  ‘At least I’ve done one thing right,’ Tasha murmured. ‘At least the police don’t know about Ollie. Then I really would be dead.’

  ‘I think you’re being a bit melodramatic, darling,’ David said. ‘Nobody’s going to hurt you when you’re with us.’

  Natasha looked at him. ‘I would have thought you, of all people, would have known better than that.’

  Emma walked away from them both. Whatever was going on between Natasha and her father, it was doing nothing to help Ollie, and she didn’t have the energy to argue about it right now.

  She put her hand in her pocket and felt the solid lump that was her mobile phone – the object she had considered her lifeline. Now its cold touch burned her fingers, and she couldn’t help wondering if all it offered was a death sentence – for Natasha, and maybe even for Ollie.

  38

  Tom could have done without this. Whatever Titan wanted, he was sure it wasn’t as vital as finding young Ollie Joseph, and Philippa should know that. Irritated as he was, though, he had little choice but to bow to her command. Much as he had never wanted to rise above the rank of Chief Inspector because he didn’t want to be confined to an office even more than he already was, sometimes he wished that he had the power to say ‘no’ when he was told to do something.

  He knocked briefly on Philippa’s closed door and pushed it open without hearing her usual call of ‘Come’ – another source of irritation. She sounded like the Queen sometimes, and, efficient as she was, when she received her next inevitable promotion Tom was certain that she would become so far up herself that nobody would be able to find the real Philippa any more.

  Her office reflected her personality – or at least the personality she liked to display. The room was featureless with some random prints on the wall that conveyed nothing about the person who had chosen them. In fact, they had probably been chosen by the decorators. The desk was totally uncluttered, with a stack of three wire trays that, unlike Tom’s, weren’t overflowing all over the desk. In other words, bland but fit for purpose.

  Philippa was dressed in her customary dark suit with a dazzling white blouse, and every strand of her straight auburn hair was in place, the bob just below her ears that never seemed to get any longer or be cut any shorter. Facing Philippa, his back to the door, was a man in a pinstriped jacket who turned to stand as Tom came in.

  Beating Philippa to the introductions, Tom held out his hand. ‘Tom Douglas,’ he said, noting the warm, dry grip of the distinguished-looking man facing him.

  ‘Paul Green’, he responded, indicating the chair next to him and sitting down.

  Tom sat, and turned to face Philippa.

  ‘What can I do for you both?’ he asked.

  ‘Tom, Mr Green would like to talk to you about your possible surveillance of one of Titan’s targets, a man by the name of …’ Philippa glanced down at her notepad, ‘… Rory Slater.’

  Before Tom had a chance to speak, Green turned to face him.

  ‘If I could explain, Tom – it’s okay if I call you Tom?’ Without waiting for confirmation, he continued. ‘We’ve had our eye on Slater for some time. I know you’re interested in him as the person who may have been harbouring Natasha Joseph, but he’s part of something much bigger and we’ve been running an operation to catch the head of this organised crime group for a few years. We’re sure we know who the main man is, but catching him is proving difficult. He doesn’t get his hands dirty. He leaves all that to his minions. Slater is bottom of the pile, but through him we’re getting closer.’

  Green withdrew some photos from his briefcase and laid them on the desk.

  ‘These were taken this morning. You sent somebody into the Slater household, and you’ve got a surveillance van just down the road. I need you to back off, Tom. This operation is too big to be blown apart by the investigation into a girl who has now reappeared.’

  Philippa interrupted. ‘You and I haven’t had a chance to discuss your interest in Slater, Tom. I gather he’s only just come onto your radar.’

  ‘That’s right – in the early hours of this morning.’ Tom turned towards Green. ‘But it’s no longer only about a missing girl. Slater is implicated in the kidnap of a baby, Mr Green.’ As Tom knew only too well, a child’s life trumped just about everything else, including organised crime.

  ‘Shit,’ Green mumbled.

  The room was quiet for a moment.

  ‘We’ve had our eyes on this particular group for a long time,’ Green said. ‘We’ve known Slater was part of it, and there’s a guy higher up the chain that’s implicated too – Finbar – or Finn – McGuinness. He’s an enforcer and a sociopathic bastard.’ Paul Green leaned towards the desk and took a drink from a glass of water before continuing.

  ‘McGuinness has been out of prison for about eight years – he was the driver in an armed robbery – but to all intents and purposes he seems to be keeping out of trouble. His wife runs a burger van in Salford – very popular it is too. We know that Slater picks up the drugs that he sells from the McGuinness burger van, and we want to trace the supply chain back from there. Finn McGuinness keeps a very low profile, but everybody’s terrified of him. We’ve held off doing anything about the burger van until we can get the top man – the man who’s running the show – and we think we’re getting there.’

  Tom filled them in on what he knew of Slater, and how he was implicated in Ollie Joseph’s kidnap.

  ‘None of what you said has surprised me, Tom. This gang is highly organised, but also opportunistic,’ Green continued. ‘They’re entrepreneurial. They deal in drugs, firearms, women – anything they can sell on the street. But if an opportunity comes up – something out of the ordinary – they’ll go for it.’

  ‘And you think they’re going for something now, do you?’ Philippa asked.

  ‘We know they are, although we don’t know what exactly. We have a CHIS. He’s working for them, but at the moment he only has a small part of the picture. It’s going to happen soon. He’s been on standby for a couple of days now.’

  Tom had always thought that CHIS, or Covert Human Intelligence Source, was an absurd term. He was much more comfortable with informant, or even snout, but within Philippa’s four walls, political correctness was everything.

  ‘Do you think the kidnap and the job are related?’ Philippa asked.

  ‘Could be,’ Tom answered. He filled Paul Green in on more of the details of young Ollie’s abduction and his belief that money was unlikely to be the motive.

  ‘Tiger kidnap,’ Green said. ‘That sounds about right for this lot.’

  ‘Our information is that whatever David Joseph is going to be asked to do, it’s today. Then the baby will be brought back safe and well, we hope. Given the timetable your CHIS is giving you, it sounds as if they might be linked. What else do we know?’

  There was a knock on th
e door and Philippa barked ‘Wait’. But the door opened and Becky poked her head round the door.

  ‘So sorry, ma’am,’ she said, giving a slightly nervous grimace, ‘but we need Tom. A bit of a problem. Ten minutes ago, British Transport Police arrested the lad Natasha was seen smiling at on the train and they’ve taken Rory Slater in for questioning too, because he was at the station waiting to pick the lad up.’

  Tom heard a groan from Paul Green and he had to sympathise with the man. Years of work could be about to go down the pan. Of course, Transport Police had been excluded from the information about the kidnap and so they believed the focus was still on finding out who had taken Natasha.

  ‘They let me know straight away,’ Becky said, ‘so I told them under no circumstances to mention Natasha Joseph. Let’s hope they were listening, or we’re in trouble.’

  39

  Fear was nothing new to Natasha. For more than six years it had been a daily reality – fear of pissing Rory off; fear of being caught nicking stuff; fear that her life would never get any better. But this was a whole new level of fear. She felt sick. She knew what happened to people who let Finn down. She’d seen it with her own eyes once, when she was somewhere she shouldn’t have been. But Emma and David wouldn’t believe her. They really had no idea.

  Nobody was speaking to Natasha anyway. Nobody knew what to say to her, and she got that. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though. She wasn’t supposed to care about any of them – not Emma, not Ollie and certainly not David. She had jumped at the chance to do this job because more than anything she wanted her father to have some idea of the life she’d been forced to live. Then they told her the reward – another year before she would have to go to Julie’s – and she would have done anything for that.

  Nearly all the girls who went to Julie’s had to have some time in The Pit first – Rory said it was to make them obedient – to show them what would happen if they tried to run away. Natasha had been terrified of that hole in the ground at the back of the cellar since the first time she had been thrown in there. She had been six years old, and the darkness had swallowed her whole.

 

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