Someone To Save you

by Paul Pilkington

  Anna nodded. Sam must have been called into work.

  The man reached out for her case. ‘Let me take this for you.’

  Anna fought the urge to refuse. She didn’t really want to relinquish it for some reason.

  ‘We’re right outside the door,’ he said, as they walked through the hall and out through the main doors. ‘Over there.’

  He pointed towards a white BMW just a few metres away.

  While the man loaded Anna’s case into the boot, Anna climbed in the back, still thinking of her lost phone.

  Sam tried Anna’s mobile as the lift descended, panic rising as the call went straight to the answer service. Her flight should have landed by now, and she would have switched the phone on, surely. He waited impatiently as the lift made its way down to the second floor. Sam ran through the opening doors and down along to Louisa’s office. She wasn’t there, so he headed for the consultation rooms. This wasn’t time for protocol, so he knocked on the first door and opened it before hearing a response.

  Louisa was sat there on her own, crying. The sight threw Sam for a second, as he just stood there, not knowing how to react.

  She dabbed her eyes, embarrassed. ‘Sam. How did it go? I didn’t think it would be over so...’

  ‘I think something terrible might have happened to Anna,’ Sam interrupted. He handed his phone to her. ‘I got this message, sent from your stolen phone.’

  I have your wife. She smells sweet. Like your sister. Call the police, she dies too.

  Louisa brought a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God.’ She looked up at Sam. ‘Could they be making this up?’

  Sam shook his head, fighting back the panic. ‘I can’t get through to her, Louisa. Her flight was supposed to have landed twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘Maybe it’s delayed,’ Louisa said, standing up. ‘Can you check?’

  Sam was already moving out of the door. ‘The internet.’

  They hurried over to Louisa’s office and logged on to the Heathrow airport website. As Sam tried Anna’s phone again, Louisa pulled up the list of arrivals.

  ‘It’s there,’ Sam said, pointing at a flight. ‘It landed on time.’

  He put a hand to his head, trying to think.

  ‘This person might still be bluffing,’ Louisa said. ‘Just saying he has Anna to scare you.’

  ‘The taxi,’ Sam said. He found the company’s number in his contacts list and dialled, hoping to God that they were going to be the ones to banish his growing fears.

  ‘Hi, my name’s Sam Becker, and I booked a taxi to collect my wife, Anna Becker, from Heathrow Airport. I was just checking that she was picked up okay.’

  ‘One moment,’ the operator replied. ‘Anna Becker you said.’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a brief, painful silence. ‘And you booked the taxi, did you say?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sam said. Please let it be good news. ‘This morning.’

  ‘We did have your booking, but it was cancelled shortly afterwards.’

  Sam’s world turned. ‘What? Who by?’

  Louisa looked on.

  ‘According to our paperwork, you cancelled it.’

  ‘No,’ Sam stated, the shock hitting him that this wasn’t just a bluff – someone had Anna. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Well, that’s what is down here, I’m afraid.’

  Sam exchanged a worried glance with Louisa. ‘So you’re saying that you didn’t send a taxi to collect my wife?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  Sam cut the call. His hands, and the phone receiver, were soaked in sweat. He couldn’t believe this was happening. ‘Jesus, Louisa, someone cancelled Anna’s taxi.’

  ‘Sam, call the police.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he replied, ‘you saw what the message said, no police.’ He moved to the door.

  Louisa pulled Sam back as he went to exit. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the airport.’

  ‘But if something has already happened...’

  ‘Then I’m too late. But I have to try.’

  It took just under thirty long minutes to reach the airport. Sam spent the journey fighting horrific images of Anna being held captive by whatever psychopath might have her. On the way to the car Sam had tried their home number, just in case Anna had found another way back, but the call had rang through. Another call to her mobile was unsuccessful.

  But still, he clung on desperately to the hope that this was all one cruel, sick joke.

  He parked up in the drop off zone and ran through to the arrivals hall, to be met by the crowds meeting and greeting incomers from all over the world. After a few minutes of frantic searching, he decided to try the information desk for the airline.

  ‘Is there any way to check whether my wife landed on the flight from Bangladesh?’

  ‘We can,’ the woman behind the desk answered, ‘but it will take some time. If you’re looking for her, we can arrange to put out an announcement.’

  ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  Two minutes later the announcement echoed out across the arrivals hall. Sam prayed that Anna would appear, smiling in that way that always got to him. She would explain that there had been a problem on landing, that she’d been delayed through customs. And then they would hold one another and the nightmare would end. But three minutes after that, Anna hadn’t arrived at the information desk as requested.

  It was then the call came.

  ‘That will be the last public announcement you make about your wife,’ the caller said, their voice deepened and disguised by some kind of distortion device.

  Sam gripped the phone tight, turning away from the information desk, his heart pumping hard. ‘Who are you? Where’s my wife?’

  ‘No questions and no police. Or your wife dies.’

  Again that terrifying threat. ‘Please, just let her go.’

  And then, a split second before the line went dead, Sam heard something that confirmed with heart-breaking certainty that this was all so very real.

  Anna’s cry for help.

  Part Three

  33

  Sam brought the phone down from his ear. His arm was shaking, and his head reeling as the terrifying echo of Anna’s scream reverberated through his head.

  ‘No, please no. Please, God, this can’t be happening.’

  Paralysed by fear, Sam scanned the arrivals hall, searching desperately for his wife. But there was no sign of her.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  He bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from losing it totally.

  This can’t be happening.

  He punched in the speed dial for Louisa’s office number, hardly able to hit the right key; his hand was shaking so much. He didn’t know what he was going to do if Louisa did answer, or how she could help, but he just needed someone who understood and there was no-one who understood more than her.

  He raised the phone to his ear, his eyes continuing the sweep across the hall in the vain hope that Anna would appear, smiling and safe. But amongst the crowds; the families, the businessmen, the airport staff, there was no sign of her. ‘Please, Louisa, please be there.’

  The call rang through. She would probably be in consultations, probably for the next hour or so. But maybe she would have her mobile on.

  He dialled that number. ‘Pick up, Louisa, please pick up the phone.’

  After a dozen or so rings it cut through to the answer machine. ‘Louisa, it’s Sam. Call me as soon as you get this message, please, just call me.’

  Sam cut off the call, took one last look around the arrivals hall, and, gripping the phone like a relay baton, sprinted out of the terminal building, hurrying towards the car. As he raced across the road, he spotted two heavily armed police officers just off to his left. His first instinct was to run straight over and tell them everything. They would know what to do.

  Sam slowed to a stop. They could put out an alert across the airport, and access security cameras to track Anna and whoev
er had taken her.

  But the man on the phone had been clear. No police. Or Anna would die.

  It could be a bluff. Was he willing to risk it?

  Sam watched the two officers. One turned and their eyes met briefly. In that instant he decided.

  Sam fought the urge to approach them and instead continued towards the nearby car. Reaching the vehicle, he threw open the door and jumped inside. But as he raced to turn on the ignition, he caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror and reality hit.

  Someone had Anna and was threatening to kill her. He didn’t know who, or why. What the hell was he going to do?

  ‘Christ.’ Sam put a hand to his head and sat back in the seat, slowing his breath, trying to think through his options. He pulled out his mobile again and dialled Paul Cullen’s number. Cullen picked up on the second ring.

  ‘Sam, what can I do for you?’

  Sam went to speak, fighting with the conflicting voices in his head. One begged him to tell Paul Cullen everything. He felt he could trust him. But the cautionary voice won out – what if the person who had Anna was watching, or listening to him right now? He struggled to maintain an even tone of voice. ‘Hi. I was just wondering if there’s been any news on the case.’

  ‘Afraid not,’ he replied. ‘But I’ve got some guys looking at that audio clip, Sam, seeing if they can clean it up.’

  ‘Good,’ Sam said, thinking about Anna. ‘That’s good.’

  ‘You okay Sam?’

  Sam snapped back to the situation. ‘Yeah, fine. I’m fine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ Sam lied, fighting back tears of frustration and fear.

  ‘I promise you Sam,’ Cullen said, ‘I’ll do everything in my power to get to the bottom of this. And as soon as I do, you’ll be one of the first to know.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Sam drove back to the apartment with the phone on the front passenger seat, all the time simultaneously hoping for and dreading another call from the person who had Anna. But the mobile remained silent. The drive seemed to take forever and he didn’t know what he was going to do when he reached home. He parked up and entered the house, rushing into the living room, clinging to the desperate hope that Anna would be sitting on the sofa waiting for him.

  She wasn’t there.

  He then moved into the hallway and checked the answer machine. There was one message. It was from Professor Khan, wanted to know how he was. He didn’t mention anything about Sam having walked off before the panel had given their verdict. And he didn’t reveal the outcome of the disciplinary hearing. He just sounded concerned. So much so that for a second Sam considered calling the Professor and telling him everything. Professor Khan was a great mind, a clear thinker who could offer valuable advice.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  Sam’s body stiffened as the echo of the bell faded. He moved over to the window to try and see who was there. But they must have been stood right up to the door and he couldn’t see them around the porch wall. He grabbed the nearest object at hand, a decorative crystal candlestick that had been bought for their wedding, and edged out into the corridor.

  He moved towards the door, and just as he reached for the handle, the person on the other side pressed the doorbell again. Sam gripped the candlestick.

  Sam spoke through the door. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Doug.’

  Immediately Sam relaxed and opened the door. Doug, dressed in grey jogging bottoms and T-shirt, smiled warmly. He was carrying a small jiffy-bag package down by his side. ‘Thought I’d come and see how you are.’

  ‘It’s good to see you, Doug.’

  Doug followed Sam into the lounge and they sat down.

  ‘I heard about what happened,’ Doug said. ‘Are you okay?’

  For a moment Sam thought he meant with Anna, but then realised he was talking about the panel. ‘I haven’t even thought about it.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s got around most of the hospital, Chinese Whisper style. I heard from one of the nurses in paediatrics. By the time the story got to me, you’d told Carla where to stick the job, and had resigned on the spot. Obviously I knew that was a load of bollocks, so I got the real story from your solicitor.’

  The whole hospital was talking about him, his career and reputation in ruins. But Sam didn’t care about that anymore. ‘So you haven’t spoken to Louisa?’

  ‘No,’ Doug replied. ‘I tried to, but she wasn’t around; looked for her everywhere. So as soon as I could, I thought I’d come and see how you are - ran all the way from the hospital. You look terrible, mate.’

  ‘I feel terrible,’ Sam replied.

  ‘What happened? Ed Stansfield said there was some kind of family emergency.’

  Sam put a hand to his head, wondering how to play this. He didn’t know if he was capable of vocalising the situation. It was as if just by telling someone would somehow make it more real – less likely that it was all a terrible mistake.

  ‘What is it?’ Doug said, his face darkening. ‘Has something happened to Anna?’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘My God, Sam, what’s happened?’

  ‘Someone has taken her,’ Sam said, hardly able to speak the words.

  Doug looked incredulous, as if it was some kind of sick joke. ‘Taken her? What…I don’t understand.’

  Sam forced out more information; the words catching in his throat like sharp barbs. ‘Someone picked Anna up at the airport and they’ve taken her. They’re holding her somewhere and threatening to kill her.’

  ‘My God, Sam. You’re not joking, are you?’

  ‘I wish it was a joke,’ Sam replied, tears welling up and spilling down his cheeks. ‘But it’s not. It’s not a joke, it’s totally serious.’ He regained his composure but his head began pounding with the strain of holding it all together. He shook his head. ‘Someone’s taken Anna.’

  ‘But who? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sam said. ‘Someone wants me to suffer; they’re playing games with me, Doug.’

  Doug looked just as incredulous. ‘What?’

  ‘They murdered Cathy, set up the train crash, planted the drugs in my locker, and now they’ve got Anna.’

  ‘You’re saying that this is all connected with your sister’s murder?’

  Sam nodded, getting to his feet and moving towards the computer.

  ‘This just seems unbelievable, Sam,’ Doug said, as Sam booted up the computer.

  Sam waited for the computer to load. ‘The train crash was set up. It wasn’t a suicide at all. And I think it was all meant for me.’ Sam clicked on the audio file. ‘Listen to this.’

  Doug moved towards the computer and listened intently.

  ‘What can you hear?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Your voice,’ Doug replied without hesitation.

  ‘And?’

  ‘A girl’s voice.’

  ‘The girl who ran out in front of my car. The girl who said she was Alison Ainsley, but wasn’t.’

  Doug looked puzzled. ‘How did you get this?’

  ‘I was emailed the link.’

  Doug turned to Sam. ‘Fuck me, Sam, this is crazy, just crazy.’

  ‘But it’s happening.’

  Doug was still trying to come to terms with the situation. ‘You said they’d also murdered Cathy?’

  ‘That’s what the person implied.’

  ‘But what about Richard Friedman? He had Cathy’s necklace. He admitted murdering her.’

  ‘I don’t know. But it’s all connected. All of it. And they’ve now got Anna.’

  ‘But who?’ Doug scrutinized Sam for a sign. ‘You think this is Marcus Johnson?’

  Doug had read his mind. There was, after all, only one likely suspect. But there was no evidence. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘What have you told the police?’

  ‘Nothing. I haven’t called them.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Because this person said he’d kill Anna if
I did.’

  ‘Jesus. Then what are you going to do? I mean, what does this person want?’

  ‘I don’t know, Doug, I just don’t know. I’ll just have to wait until he contacts me again.’

  Suddenly Doug’s face registered something. He moved back towards the sofa.

  ‘What is it?’

  Doug returned with the jiffy-bag package. ‘This was in your pigeon hole. I assumed it might be to do with the investigation, but…’

  Sam cradled the package. ‘This wasn’t there before I went up to the board.’

  He ripped open the tape, pulling out a note.

  To dispel any lingering doubts.

  Sam tipped up the package, and a ring fell out into his palm. It was Anna’s engagement ring. Tied around it was a lock of strawberry blonde hair. It could have been anyone’s. But Sam knew it was Cathy’s. And then, reaching in to the bag, sickened to the core, he found something else.

  A photograph of Cathy, smiling on the small dance floor, drink in hand, caught up in the moment.

  And on the back, a handwritten note.

  Dancing queen, young and sweet, never seventeen.

  Sam had never felt such rage.

  34

  ‘What is it, Sam?’

  Sam slipped the photograph into his back pocket and started towards the door. ‘He’s got her, he’s got Anna.’

  Doug followed him. ‘Who has?’

  Sam grabbed his coat as he reached the hallway. The anger was burning so intensely. All along it had been him. He’d looked him in the eye, pleading his innocence, asking for his trust. And he’d really started to believe, had wanted to believe. ‘Marcus.’

  Doug moved between Sam and the door, worried. ‘What are you doing, Sam?’

  ‘Going to get my wife back.’

  Doug put out a hand as Sam approached. ‘You can’t just go around there, Sam. Call the police.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘No, I can’t.’

  ‘You can, Sam. Do it now, call the police. You really think it’s the best thing for you to go charging around there like some superhero? You don’t know what the hell could happen. He’s probably waiting for you – this could be his plan, to get you around there.’