The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  Liz looked bewildered. ‘Simon?’

  ‘Tom’s Simon. Simon Banton. He’s in my school now, a year behind me. We play football together every day.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why should Oliver and Julia splitting up affect my friendship with her? It hasn’t affected my friendship with Oliver, or my working relationship with him. In fact, he didn’t mention it. Tom told me what had happened.’

  ‘Whoa! Don’t shoot the messenger! I’m telling you what Simon said. He heard his mum say that it was good that you’d given Julia some backbone. Did you?’

  ‘Good Lord, no. All I did was tell her she’d have to make a decision sooner or later, but if the decision was to go, not to waste her time being unhappy mulling it over.’

  ‘So you didn’t tell her to leave him?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I like Oliver, and to be perfectly honest, Dan, I wouldn’t presume to do anything like that. Marriages are sacrosanct, and only the two people involved can deal with any issues thrown up.’

  Guilt, guilt, guilt. Are all marriages sacrosanct? She cringed inwardly at her thoughts.

  ‘Whatever you said to her, she took your advice, apparently. Mum the marriage counsellor. But I’m still going to bed. I need sleep.’

  He walked through the door and almost collided with Tanya.

  ‘I’ll be back for seven tomorrow morning, Liz, but if you need me…’

  Liz smiled. ‘I know. I’ll ring you. But to be perfectly honest, I’m planning on sharing a couple of bottles of rosé wine with Julia, and then hopefully I’ll sleep. Drunk, if necessary.’

  ‘Not really advisable,’ Tanya smiled. ‘What if they find Jake?’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Liz responded. ‘To be perfectly honest, I don’t really drink. I’m not keen on the taste, I wondered if it might blot everything out…’

  ‘Enjoy your evening as much as you can, Liz. Is that your friend coming down the path escorted by a policeman?’

  Liz laughed. ‘She’ll love that.’

  Tanya exited the door, as Julia entered. Liz and Julia hugged, and then went through into the lounge.

  ‘Proper bummer, this, isn’t it?’ Julia said, softening her words with a hug.

  ‘You don’t know the half,’ Liz responded, ‘There’s so much I need to tell you. But not yet. Dan is probably still awake, and if I can keep this from him…’

  ‘Are we going to need this?’ Julia delved into her capacious handbag and produced a bottle of vodka and a large bottle of Coca-Cola. ‘That policeman checked my bag before he’d even let me down the drive, and he grinned at me, before he made me feel like an old lady. He called me ma’am!’

  Liz collected two glasses from the kitchen, then watched as Julia poured drinks. ‘So, I guess we both have some talking to do,’ Julia said, as she handed the drink to Liz.

  ‘It was a bit of a shock, hearing that you’d left Oliver.’

  ‘It was a shock to me too, and I went into a shell. I didn’t speak to anybody, not even my solicitor, initially. I can only apologise for not ringing you, but I couldn’t. Even my mum found out through Oliver, and not me.’

  ‘Why? After we’d had our chat about it, how long was it before you left?’

  ‘The day after. He asked me where I had been. He had called home and I wasn’t there. I told him I’d been for a coffee and a chat with you, and he said he didn’t want me meeting up with you anymore. He said it wasn’t necessary to be friends with you.’

  ‘What? He’s never said a word out of place to me.’

  ‘It’s the control thing again, isn’t it? He made me give up work, said I didn’t need to, and for a while that was fine. But then I got bored with being at home all day. Then when my car needed something doing to it, he scrapped it, saying I didn’t really need one, I could always use his. Good idea, except it was never there when I wanted to go anywhere. When he said I should drop you, something snapped. I went to bed and couldn’t sleep. I was so angry. I thought about what you had said about making a decision but then not hanging around for him to change my mind. He went to work, I packed and moved into a hotel.’

  ‘Did he try to get you back?’

  ‘It took him over a week to locate me. He contacted every hotel he could find. I was in a really small one at Nether Edge, and it was as simple as him ringing them and asking to be put through to Julia Hardwick. They did. My brain was in such a state I never thought to tell them I didn’t want anybody knowing I was there. He tried to persuade me to go back, but it wasn’t even up for discussion. We ended the call, I packed and checked out. I made it clear at the next hotel I wanted nobody able to find out I was there, and I’m now in a rented house that he has no idea about. Nobody knows where it is, and I’m keeping that to myself, until all financial negotiations for the divorce are settled. Oliver is being quite reasonable, I should add.’

  ‘And according to Dan, Oliver blames me! Although I must say, he has never changed in the way he treats me, so I’m taking what Dan says with a pinch of salt. His words have come via Simon Banton, and prior to that from Simon hearing his mum say something to his dad, about me giving you some backbone. Did I?’

  ‘Somebody did,’ Julia laughed. ‘I’ll never go back to him. It’s been nearly five months now, and I feel so much more at ease. I don’t want another man, ever, because I won’t take that risk of being controlled, but it doesn’t matter. I’m happy with my own company.’

  ‘Good for you. And you’ve got a car?’

  ‘Yes, it’s parked somewhere across the road. I feel independent again, ready to get on with life. You did that, Liz, you did that.’

  She leaned forward and refilled their glasses. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  Liz looked puzzled. ‘Talk about what?’

  ‘What’s going on with you. About finding the bodies, about Jake going missing. Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘Without clues – although there may be one – there’s nothing much anyone can do except trust in the police to find him. Jake going missing has overridden Gareth’s death. I can’t think about that, about the circumstances. He was having an affair, it seems, with the childminder. Dan suspected, but because it was only a suspicion, said nothing. Me? I suspected nothing. It can only have been a fairly recent thing, because it’s only about four months since I first introduced the two of them.’

  ‘That’s crap,’ Julia said, reaching forward to clasp Liz’s hand. ‘Why would he want somebody else? You’re beautiful, inside and out.’

  Liz snorted. ‘Don’t be fooled, Julia. I know I haven’t been quite as… loving… as I used to be, and Gareth obviously felt the need to find someone who was. But it’s all irrelevant now, he’s gone.’

  They continued to chat, with Julia constantly trying to steer the conversation back to the events of the past couple of days. Eventually, Liz said she was tired. ‘I can offer you a sofa, if you want to stay.’

  ‘Thank you. I think I’d better – those two officers outside would probably be able to see from my stagger that I wasn’t fit to drive.’

  Five minutes later, Liz was in her own bedroom, feeling irrationally angry. It was clear that Julia hadn’t come to comfort, but to find out the gossip. Liz wished she had offered to send for a taxi, rather than give her overnight accommodation.

  Her head sank into the pillow, and yet she couldn’t sleep. Talking to Julia had forced her to relive the horrors; the blood, so much blood from Gareth, and yet none from Sadie. The scene was re-lodged in her mind now, and she didn’t want it there. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours; she picked up her kindle deciding not to read the Stephen King she had already started, but to change to something that wouldn’t scare her half to death. She chose a debut novel by an author she had decided might be worth the £1.99 she had paid for the download, and began to read.

  The book was good; she stayed awake. Finally, she gave in and went downstairs to make a camomile tea. Liz didn’t particularly like the taste, but everyone
said it helped in getting to sleep. She crept through the hallway, trying not to disturb Julia. It was as she returned holding the mug in her hand that she heard the ping of an incoming text from the lounge. She glanced through the open door and saw the glow from Julia’s phone, as it lay face up on the coffee table. Who texted at 3am? Puzzled, Liz went across, making no noise, and glanced down. Oliver.

  Julia obviously had a different idea of what no contact meant than Liz did. She’d been quite adamant that she hadn’t had anything to do with him since they had split up. Any contact had been through solicitors. And yet he was texting her at three in the morning.

  Liz quietly left the lounge and returned to her bedroom. There was so much about her life that was full of questions; she could manage quite well without the added complication of Julia’s marriage.

  She sat up in bed and sipped at her tea, reading the book. Halfway through a sentence she suddenly thought about the love phone. She hadn’t checked it once since finding the bodies. She reached across to her dressing table and pulled her bag towards her. She took out the phone, and gasped.

  Our son is safe at the moment. I love you.

  She felt sick. Nothing made sense. She was still convinced whoever was sending these messages wasn’t Phil. He wouldn’t be so cold.

  And yet it could be him… he had been missing for some months. Could he have planned this? Could he have killed Sadie and Gareth, snatched Jake and hidden him away?

  But if it was him, why had he done it?

  And she would stake her life on these texts not having been sent by him.

  Chapter 31

  Within a five-minute period around eight next morning, several things happened: Tanya arrived, Julia left, the two officers went off shift to be replaced by two more, DI Brent arrived, and Captor knew it was fast approaching the time for the final act.

  Chapter 32

  Jake was snuffly. He had kept Phil awake for much of the night, with tiny noises and coughs coming from the cot, and Phil hoped it wouldn’t get any worse.

  He tried getting the little boy to eat breakfast, but he had half the sachet before discarding it. Fortunately, he drank his milk, which gave Phil a small measure of satisfaction, but Jake clearly didn’t want to play, and sat with his daddy on the bed. He felt hot, and Phil couldn’t help but think his mummy would already have dealt with it via Calpol and Jake would have been feeling much happier.

  Phil heard the rattle of the dumb waiter and he quickly put Jake back in his cot before crossing to the hatch. He took out the carrier bag of supplies and closed the door.

  Inside, along with his own meagre rations for the day, was a bottle of Calpol. He checked the dosage, filled the syringe, and gave Jake the soothing liquid.

  After dealing with his son, he walked with care around the basement prison; he could see no evidence of a camera, yet it had to be there. There was no way Captor could have known of the disturbed night, the baby’s snuffly cries, without there being a camera. And if there was one, did it track his movements to every part of the room, or was it static?

  Not that it made the slightest bit of difference. He had long since given up on the idea of escape. There was no way out of a stone-built cellar that boasted a metal door with no handle on his side and nothing in the way of a window; just a hole in the wall filled with a dumb waiter. The only person in the cellar that would fit into that was Jake, and although he had taken his first couple of steps, Phil reckoned that wouldn’t be enough to help them, if the baby made the great escape.

  Jake soon fell into a deep sleep, the Calpol obviously doing its job. Phil laid him in his cot, and tenderly covered the tiny body with his blankets. Such a beautiful child; whatever the outcome of this was, he would remember these precious moments always.

  His thoughts turned to Melissa, and he felt a tear trickle down his face. What was she thinking. Did she assume that he had upped and left her? What would her mother have told her? And was it her mother holding him prisoner?

  He idly picked up a book about Dirty Desmond. He read the two pages, not for the first time, then hurled it at the wall.

  ‘So boring,’ he muttered. ‘So fucking boring.’ He looked up towards the ceiling. ‘I know you’re filming me. For pity’s sake, send me another book!’ He spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Jake. He really wanted to scream the words.

  Jake slumbered on, and eventually Phil napped, catching up on his broken sleep. He almost missed the rattle of the dumbwaiter.

  In it was a small hot water bottle, obviously meant for Jake’s cot, and a copy of War and Peace.

  Captor had a sense of humour.

  Chapter 33

  Will Brent stood at the front of the room. He had called the briefing for 7am; it would have been 6am if there had been anything new to report.

  ‘Right, everybody.’ Instantly the room fell silent. ‘The lead we had yesterday about the person not being able to fold the pushchair and it being stuffed into the boot of the car – it’s okay as far as it goes, but it doesn’t go very far. Again, the witness didn’t know if it was a man or a woman. Mr Warrender said whoever was pushing the pram took the baby out of it, lifted him into the back seat of the car and strapped him into a car seat, then moved back to the boot where the pram had been left, and tried to fold it. It defeated him or her, so whoever this is, I suspect they’re not used to little children. This is a top of the range pushchair, bought for Liz Chambers by her employers, when she left to take maternity leave.’

  He looked round at his team. ‘It seems he or she struggled for a couple of minutes, then picked up the pram and loaded it into the boot, still in its erect state. This tells us it was a fairly large car, because, although Mr Warrender didn’t notice the make, he did notice that our perpetrator simply put it in, then closed the lid. He didn’t have to manoeuvre it around, in order to close it. The car was a dark colour, either blue or black. The person then walked around to the driving seat, got in and set off. End of story. We’ve had forensics on the exact site of where the car was parked, but with no results. Whoever it was, they didn’t smoke and discard a convenient cigarette, drop a tissue, or anything helpful.’

  There were a few smiles. He continued. ‘I want us to repeat the door to door in the proximity of where this car was, in view of this new information. Someone else may have seen something. Any questions?’

  DC Lynda Checkley held up a hand.

  ‘Lynda?’

  ‘Sorry, sir… I was wondering if Mrs Chambers had said anything about somebody who might want to hurt her. From everything that we know, surely somebody is pretty pissed off with her, because it strikes me that she is the one being targeted here, not the baby, and not this missing man who might or might not be involved.’

  DI Brent smiled at the newest member of his team. ‘Is pissed off a technical term, Lynda?’

  She had the grace to blush.

  ‘The only person Liz Chambers named as holding a grudge against her is Philip Latimer’s wife, Rosemary, or Rosie as she is usually known. However, for the time of the murders and abduction, she has a rock-solid alibi. She was at the Children’s Hospital with her young daughter, who was having physiotherapy on her arm. We’ve double-checked this, in view of Mrs Chamber’s feelings concerning Rosie Latimer. Rosie and Melissa went straight from school at 3.15pm, arrived at the hospital shortly before 4pm, and eventually got in to see the physiotherapist at 4.15pm. They left the hospital just after 5pm, and went to McDonald’s for a treat for Melissa. Apparently, the physio puts her in some pain afterwards. We believe Gareth Chambers and Sadie Fremantle were dead by just after 4.30pm.’

  There were several nods of acknowledgement around the room, and then Lynda spoke again. She was clearly giving her mind free rein. ‘And Philip Latimer? Is he really missing, or did he do a disappearing act to get away from a wife he’d stopped loving.’

  ‘You mean did he piss off?’ Brent kept his face straight as he spoke the words, and once again she blushed. The rest of the t
eam clapped.

  ‘Okay, she muttered, ‘I give in.’

  Brent smiled at her. ‘I hate to think what this lot will give you for a nickname, Lynda, but to answer your question properly, yes, I believe he is really missing. He hasn’t touched his bank accounts, or used his phone, for months. I think his disappearance was meant to be the start of Liz Chambers’ nightmare, and I believe that’s the bit that’s gone slightly awry for the kidnapper. Liz didn’t find out Philip was missing until she went back to work.’

  ‘And you think he’s still alive?’ The question came from the back of the room.

  ‘In the absence of a body, I do. I think – and this is only guesswork, because I have no proof – that he was taken so that he could look after Jake once the second part of the plan was implemented.’

  Brent looked around the room. ‘Anybody else need anything clarifying?’

  Several heads were shaken.

  ‘Right – you’ve all had your instructions for today, so if anything crops up, I need to know immediately. If I’m out, ring me. This case is so bloody short of everything. Lynda – come with me. We’re going to see Mrs Chambers.’

  Once again, Lynda blushed. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, and followed him from the room.

  ‘Have you been to the Chambers’ house before?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Then I’ll drive. You’ll drive back.’

  They were going up Birley Lane when she spoke again. ‘Are we going for any particular reason, sir?’

  His answer was almost a growl. ‘No, I’m touching base with her and her son, really. Keeping them up to date on what’s happening.’

  ‘What sort of woman is she?’

  ‘Fragile, at the moment,’ he said grimly. ‘Under normal circumstances, I imagine she’s a nice person. How she’s getting through this, I’ll never know. The last few days have seen her world turned upside down. She’s lost her husband of around twenty years, her friend, albeit a new friend who proved to be friendlier to her husband than to her, and she has no idea where her baby son is. She’s not under any suspicion; her alibi is solid. However, I think she’s holding something back.’