Someone To Save you

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Sam said, although he had stopped listening properly half-way through her speech. He was thinking hard about something she had just said. ‘None of this is our fault.’

  Stars in the midnight sky.

  ‘Are you okay, Sam?’

  Sam hauled himself out of his thoughts. Maybe he had imagined it. ‘What did he say to Jane? About stars in the midnight sky?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘her eyes looked like the two brightest stars in the midnight sky. Why?’

  Sam thought some more, the words playing on a loop. His heart pounded, his body in overdrive at the thoughts going through his head. ‘What does he look like?’

  ‘Tall, thin really, dark hair, pointed nose, very blue eyes,’ Shirley replied.

  Sam thought back fifteen years to the night at the camp site bar. The guy who had been pestering Cathy and Louisa, the one who Marcus had warned off in the toilets. My God, could it be?

  ‘I think I know who it is,’ he thought out loud.

  He pressed his fingers into each side of his temple and trawled his memory for an impression of that person. It was a long time ago, but he did remember the guy being tall and thin, with those piercing blue eyes. But it was those words that were so powerful; the two brightest stars in the midnight sky. Almost exactly what Louisa had said just the other day, the chat up line he had used on Cathy. It had to be.

  ‘Who?’ Shirley said. ‘Who is he?’

  But before Sam could answer, there was a loud knock at the door.

  He poured himself another glass of whiskey and walked towards the chair, flopping down into it. At the point of impact some of the golden liquid leapt out from the glass and dribbled down his hand. He licked it from his skin, on one level repulsed by the taste but on another eager for more. He took a generous gulp from the glass and looked around the penthouse apartment, surveying everything that he could be about to lose; the television, the stereo system, the carpets, curtains, everything. He looked out towards the balcony and thought, not for the first time, about ending it out there. But this time felt different. The thought was no longer consigned to some future scenario. It was a here-and-now consideration.

  What the hell.

  Who would miss him? Certainly not Sam Becker, surgeon extraordinaire.

  He got up and wandered over to the glass doors. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was in control. Sliding the glass doors back, he stepped onto the balcony, and was blasted by a cooling gust from the Thames below. Up ahead he could see Canary Wharf. That was where the big money was made. How he could do with some of that now. Placing both hands on the brushed metal railing he peered down towards the ground, some eleven stories below. The floor seemed to rise towards him – the alcohol he figured.

  He balanced the drink precariously on the railing, and brought one leg over the metal bar, steadying himself so that he didn’t fall, in the ultimate irony. One leg each side of the rail, he tensed and screwed his eyes shut, wishing away the situation yet also feeling more invigorated than he’d ever done in his whole life.

  Then from within the apartment his phone began to ring. He dared to hope. Maybe they had kept their promise after all.

  49

  Someone knocked for a second time. Shirley and Eric stayed rooted on the sofa, their faces frozen with fear. Sam looked at them for direction.

  ‘It could be them,’ Shirley said, her voice fearful. ‘Vincent.’

  Sam looked towards the direction of the door. A thought came to him – they could have been following him all along. He could have been the one who had brought them here. Despite his own fear, he decided to take control. ‘I’ll get it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Eric said, eventually. ‘Thank you.’

  Sam nodded and rose from the chair, his body tense.

  ‘Please be careful,’ Shirley said. ‘And if it is them, and they want to come in, please, let them.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll have a choice,’ Sam said, more aware again of the bruising across his ribs as the tablets wore off. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added, ‘it will be alright,’ trying to convince himself more than anyone else. He stepped out of the room and into the corridor. As he approached the door, nerves playing havoc with his system, the person knocked again. ‘Who is it?’

  No reply.

  He reached for the door, with no idea how he was going to handle this should those men be on the other side. Taking a deep breath he opened the door.

  The man on the other side frowned suspiciously, looking Sam up and down. There was only this guy, a lank man of around his mid-twenties, with dirty blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. He looked like a particularly scruffy surfer. ‘This is where Shirley and Eric Ainsley live, right?’

  ‘Who are you?’ Sam said, evading the question.

  ‘Antony McLaughlin,’ he replied, his accent somewhere close to Dublin. There was a nurse on the cardio-thoracic ward who sounded just like him. Sam reached out warily and shook his outstretched hand. ‘Now, mate, are you going to tell me whether I’ve got the right house, or not?’

  ‘Depends what you’re here for,’ Sam said.

  The guy laughed, opening his arms. ‘I’m here to...’ The smile vanished, as if something had just come to him to wipe it off. He took a faltering, panicked step back. ‘Fuck, you’re not one of them?’

  ‘One of who?’

  ‘Who are you, mate? Tell me who the fuck you are or I’m outta here.’ He glanced down the street, as if he was thinking of running.

  Sam took a chance. ‘My name’s Sam Becker.’

  The guy laughed, reacting as if he should have known that fact all along. ‘Fuck me, Sam Becker, the doctor.’

  Sam held his ground, but his suspicions had lifted. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘I’ve told you already, Antony McLaughlin - Locky for short. Now can I come in, or what?’

  Shirley and Eric flinched as Sam walked back in with Locky following close behind.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Sam said, ‘he’s not one of them. At least I don’t think he is.’

  ‘Too right I’m not,’ he said, staying standing, shifting from one foot to the other as if he was on hot coals. ‘I’m one of the good guys, here to get you back your granddaughter.’

  Shirley stood, her face breaking into life in hope and anticipation. ‘You know where she is?’

  He nodded. ‘She’s safe. Now are you coming with me to get her, or what?’

  Shirley looked at Sam for guidance.

  ‘How do we know you’re telling the truth?’ Sam asked him.

  He shrugged. ‘You don’t, but you must be a smart man, doctor. Go with your instincts.’

  Sam looked back at Shirley. There was of course a risk that this was a trap of some sort, but Sam didn’t think so. And he wasn’t about to waste the big break that might lead him to Anna. ‘I’ll go with him.’

  ‘If you’re going, I’m going too,’ she replied. ‘She’s my granddaughter.’

  ‘Me too,’ Eric added, standing, his face determined. ‘I’m coming as well.’

  ‘Great,’ Locky said, clapping his hands together. ‘Everyone out to the car it is then.’

  They followed Locky out of the front door and into a battered blue car that was parked a few metres away.

  ‘Don’t forget your seatbelts,’ he advised, starting the engine. ‘I’m a bit of an erratic driver.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Sam asked from the front passenger seat.

  ‘Can’t tell, sorry,’ he replied, pulling away from kerb and hitting the accelerator, ‘under orders to keep information to a minimum.’

  ‘Under orders by who?’

  ‘Can’t tell,’ he said, ‘or she’d bust my balls.’

  ‘She?’

  ‘The girl who called me yesterday?’ Shirley asked from the back.

  Locky seemed infuriated by his slip. ‘Yes.’

  ‘The same girl who phoned the police about Stacey Bond?’ Sam said. ‘Who is she? The girl I sa
w at the river?’

  ‘No more questions, please,’ Locky replied, changing lane suddenly to undertake a slow moving car, ‘otherwise I might crash this bloody thing.’

  ‘Just one last question,’ Sam persisted. ‘My wife, Anna Becker, do you know where she is?’

  ‘Look, doc, I’m really sorry, but I don’t.’

  Sam considered whether this guy was telling the truth or not. His instincts told him he was genuine, both relating to knowing where Alison was and also not knowing Anna’s whereabouts. So there were positives and negatives. How much he would give to have Anna waiting for him at their destination. He sat back and remained silent for the rest of the fifteen minute journey. Occasionally he would glance back to check on Shirley and Eric. Both looked in a permanent state of edginess. The car raced around the London streets, across junctions, over bridges, the cultural landscape changing as they went.

  Finally Locky spoke.

  ‘We’re here,’ he said, as the car turned a sharp left and slowed to a stop next to a block of low rise maisonette flats. ‘Now, when you get out,’ he said, wrenching up the handbrake and turning off the ignition, ‘don’t be hanging around. Get out of the car as quick as you can and get through that door over there.’ He gestured over to the entrance.

  They all nodded.

  ‘Great,’ he said, ‘now follow me.’

  The three of them followed Locky across to the entrance and up a set of concrete steps. They stopped outside the first flat and Locky led them inside. ‘She’s in here,’ he said, stepping through the door, ‘don’t worry, she’s okay.’

  Sam followed him in first, and saw a young girl sitting cross-legged on the sofa, remote control in hand, watching TV, just like any normal teenager. She looked up at Sam and frowned. But on seeing her grandmother appear behind Sam, she burst to life, joy spreading across her face like a flame. ‘Gran!’

  Shirley ran forward with her arms outstretched. ‘Oh my God, Alison, my Alison, you’re safe, my God, you’re really safe.’

  They embraced in a tight hug. Shirley then stepped back and looked at Alison, as if unable to quite believe that she wasn’t just imagining it. She stroked back some stray her from her forehead. Alison looked remarkably well, and it gave Sam hope about Anna’s condition. ‘Oh, my Alison, we’re so glad to have you back.’

  They hugged again. Eric moved forward and put a hand around the two of them. ‘I’m so happy to see you, Alison, so happy.’ He was crying. They all were. Sam stood back slightly, side by side with Locky, feeling like a voyeur to an intensely private moment.

  ‘Is everyone okay?’ Alison asked over Shirley’s shoulder. ‘Mum and the rest? They’re all okay, aren’t they?’

  Sam found himself looking straight at her pleading eyes. ‘I’m so sorry Alison,’ he found himself saying, ‘I couldn’t save your mum.’

  Sam and Locky retreated to the next room while Alison was comforted by Shirley and Eric. They needed their private space, although Sam knew from bitter personal experience that the real grieving would come in time. Some minutes later, they were called back into the living room and Sam took a seat. Alison was sitting in between her grandparents, her tears now drying.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘for saving my brother and sister.’

  Her gratitude at such a time of grief took Sam by surprise. ‘You don’t need to thank me. I just wish I could have saved your mum.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, displaying remarkable maturity beyond her teenage years.

  Sam looked across at Locky, who was standing a few feet from them, gnawing at a fingernail. ‘What now?’

  He shrugged. ‘Wait until we hear what to do next.’

  ‘Hear from who? The girl?’

  Locky refused to answer.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I’ve told you,’ he said, ‘I can’t tell you anything. I’m really sorry, doc, but I can’t say a word.’

  Sam turned to Alison. He was unsure about whether to question this girl, who had not only been through a horrendous experience, but had also just found out that her mother was dead. However Anna’s life was at stake. ‘Alison, my wife has been taken, by the same people who took you. Do you know where she might be?’

  She shook her head. ‘They kept me in a room of a big house. There were lots of other women, and men that came to, you know, to, erm, have sex with them.’

  ‘My God,’ Shirley said, horrified, ‘please say they didn’t...’

  ‘It’s okay, Gran, they didn’t touch me,’ she reassured her. ‘But I thought they would.’ She addressed Sam again. ‘I don’t know where the house was, and I don’t know anything about your wife. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Sam replied, trying not to think about what they may be doing to Anna. ‘Do you know who it was that took you?’

  She nodded. ‘Vincent. Mum’s boyfriend.’

  Mentioning the name mum upset her again and she sunk into Shirley’s arms. Sam wished he could take the pain away. He turned to Locky. ‘You know who this guy is, don’t you?’

  Locky started biting at his fingers again.

  ‘Who is he?’ Sam pressed. ‘And where’s the house? You must know.’

  ‘I can’t say, I really can’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think I’d like to tell ya?’

  Sam’s anger flared with the knowledge that this man was keeping something so important from them. ‘Why can’t you?’

  ‘Because it’s not safe!’ he spat. ‘It’s not safe. That’s why we’ve got to stay here until it is. And the less you know at the moment, the safer you’ll be.’

  ‘And what about my wife?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I don’t know anything about your wife, I swear.’

  Sam’s mobile rang and everyone in the room looked on.

  ‘Hello?’

  It was Miles.

  Sam listened to the single sentence, not quite believing what he was hearing. He snapped the phone shut and made for the door, blood pumping hard. Locky followed. ‘Hey, where are ya off to?’

  ‘To get my wife back,’ he replied.

  50

  Sam knew where Miles lived. Everyone working in the cardiothoracic unit did, as he’d invited the whole department over for a flat warming party when he first purchased it, eighteen months ago. Most thought that it was a way of demonstrating to everyone how successful he was. It was an upper floor apartment that looked out across the Thames, bought at the height of the London property boom. It wasn’t in the premier league of capital residences, but it was still very exclusive, and Sam had wondered at the time how he’d been able to afford the astronomical asking price.

  He knocked three hard knocks and waited impatiently.

  Please let him be in. Please let him be telling the truth.

  Eventually Miles answered. He looked terrible; bloodshot eyes and corpse-like ashen skin, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He shifted from one foot to another. As he went to speak, Sam smelt the alcohol on his breath. He was well past drunk. ‘Sam, do come in,’ he slurred.

  ‘You said you know what’s happened to my wife,’ Sam said, letting the door swing shut and squaring up to Miles. Part of him still thought that this was some sort of sick joke. But no-one except him and his close friends knew that Anna was missing.

  ‘Would you like a drink, Sam?’ he grinned. ‘I have plenty of drinks, how about a whiskey?’

  Sam got another blast of alcohol. ‘You’re drunk,’ he stated.

  Miles shrugged. ‘And what if I am? Can you blame me? I’ve lost everything, Sam. My career has been flushed down the toilet.’

  ‘You brought it on yourself, Miles,’ Sam replied, impatient to get back to the reason he was here. ‘What do you know about Anna?’

  Miles wagged a finger. ‘Ah, no, no, no. I didn’t,’ he put up two fingers as quotation marks, ‘bring it on myself.’ He now used a finger to jab Sam in the top of his chest. It’s all because of you, Sam.’

  ‘How?’

  Miles
smiled. ‘Because they used me to get to you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They reeled me in and then used me, Sam. They used me as a pawn to do their dirty work. They told me to plant the drugs in your locker. I didn’t want to do it – they made me do it. Do you see? It’s all because of you, Sam.’

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Miles replied. ‘But they don’t like you. I guess we have one thing in common there, Sammy boy.’

  Sam ignored the jibe. It wasn’t the time for petty games. ‘How did you meet them?’

  ‘They found me,’ he said. ‘Got talking to a guy at the Victoria Casino. Said he could help me out. I was in a spot of bother. Lost a lot of cash, you see. Bet you didn’t know I liked a gamble, did you Sam?’

  Sam didn’t want to hear about Miles’ addictions. ‘Who was he? Was his name Vincent?’

  ‘Haven’t got a clue,’ he said. ‘But he had money. Lots of money. Said it was going to be a loan, low interest, but he came asking for it back pretty quickly. Pity I’d already lost it on the roulette. You see, Sam, I’m one of life’s risk takers. You don’t get ahead in this life without taking a risk.’

  ‘So they forced you to plant the drugs in my locker?’

  ‘Indeed they did, detective. They’re extremely persuasive.’

  The story was startlingly familiar - they’d used the same strategy with Richard Friedman and Eric Ainsley; the offer of help to gain total control.

  ‘My wife, Miles,’ Sam said, returning to his only priority, ‘you said you know something about her.’

  ‘They took her,’ he said. ‘They’re holding her.’