The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  ‘You think it’s a man?’

  ‘Only because it’s normally a man. It seems, according to DI Brent, that there’s no clear indication of either sex. Would a woman do this?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Liz admitted. ‘Some of my cases have been women who killed. Don’t close your mind to the killer being female.’

  ‘But why kill two people to get one baby? Surely, with a baby, it’s pretty easy to grab them from a pram? Or am I wrong?’

  Liz smiled. ‘I think you’d still have to kill whoever was pushing the pram. If somebody tried to snatch Jake from me, they’d have to kill me to stop me fighting back.’

  Christian frowned. ‘So, have you upset somebody?’

  ‘Not that I know of. We’ve been through files from work and I’ve wracked my brain to think of anybody who has cause to hate me, but come up blank.’

  ‘Rosie hates you,’ Dan called from the kitchen.

  ‘Rosie?’

  ‘Phil Latimer’s wife,’ Liz said. ‘And she doesn’t hate me. I almost think she understands…’ Her voice trailed away as she realised Christian knew nothing of the complications surrounding Jake.

  He waited, but when she didn’t continue, he turned to leave.

  ‘Thanks, Dan,’ he called. ‘See you soon.’

  She watched as he crossed the road, finally heading towards the shop. She knew one day he would get on with his life, probably leave Sheffield behind him, but he still had to reach that stage. For now, he was hurting.

  Chapter 37

  37

  Darkness had fallen. Captor hesitated before leaving, turned, and headed back towards the dumb waiter. Loading everything available into it, the contraption moved for the last time downwards.

  Phil heard the clank of the chain, and put Jake into his cot. He crossed to the cupboard door, and quickly removed everything that was in it. Several bottles of water, three packets of biscuits, even a bar of chocolate. Teabags, four milk cartons, baby food… He stared in horror at the assortment of goods.

  It felt like the last supper.

  The contraption clanked as it returned to its normal level, and Phil automatically stored away the goods, his mind spinning. This shouldn’t have happened until after Jake’s next sleep, a long sleep which told Phil it was night-time.

  Captor parked in the lay-by and sat for a moment in the car. Contemplation of what was to come was inevitable, but not scary. It would be far scarier if a long prison sentence came into the equation. Affairs had been put in order, the time was approaching, and an extra five minutes added on to life was acceptable.

  Finally, reaching into the boot, Captor picked up the small backpack, strapped it onto both shoulders, and left the warmth and comfort of the car behind. The path had been walked several times over the last couple of weeks; the way was known. One glance backwards, as if maybe a consideration of a mind change, then endgame.

  The keys to the small locked room housing Phil Latimer and his son sailed through the night air and landed high in a tree. The rain was relentless, and Captor pulled up the hood and walked.

  Liz Chambers, payback time.

  Chapter 38

  Tuesday morning saw Liz wake up with a banging headache, and a sick feeling in her stomach. Today was the day when she had to make the arrangements for Gareth’s funeral, and she wasn’t convinced that Dan would want to go with her.

  She peeked through the bedroom curtains before heading to the bathroom, saw it was raining heavily, and almost went back to bed.

  She stood under the shower for longer than normal, allowing the water to batter her head and face, and felt marginally more like a human being once dressed. She could hear Dan having a shower, so waited until he joined her downstairs before asking if he was still okay to go with her.

  ‘Of course I am.’ He gave her a hug. ‘You don’t seriously think I’d let you go through this on your own?’

  They didn’t talk much over breakfast; neither of them wanted the bowl of cornflakes, both of them forced it down their throats.

  They left the house, despite Liz’s protestations, in the back of the police car. The two officers said they would feel happier with both their charges in the back seat, than if they had to follow Liz and Dan through innumerable sets of traffic lights as they travelled in Liz’s car to the funeral home. They did give Liz the option of checking it out with DI Brent, but she wisely declined and gave in to their requests that felt like instructions.

  A little over an hour later, they were back home; Gareth’s body had been collected the day before and was in the funeral home being prepared for viewing. Liz arranged to go to the Chapel of Rest the following day, and to her relief, Dan declined to accompany her.

  He said nothing until they were back in the house.

  ‘I can’t go to see Dad, Mum.’

  ‘That’s fine. be sure, is all I ask, because after next Tuesday you won’t have that option.’ She touched his cheek lightly. ‘Your decision, my love.’

  ‘I’d rather remember him how he was.’ Dan’s tone was quite abrupt, and she watched as he left her to go to his room. He was angry. It wasn’t directed at her, more at the world, and how it all seemed to have gone pear-shaped at once.

  She took drinks out to the two officers, who she had to accept, reluctantly, had been the best option for getting to the funeral home; her head was everywhere, and she wasn’t really fit for driving.

  Liz was walking past the phone when it rang. She glanced at the number – she had long since ceased to expect it to be the kidnapper.

  ‘Hi, Tom,’ she said. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Kind of. Can you and your phenomenal memory remember anything Oliver might have been going to do today?’

  She briefly glanced at the calendar to make sure she was linking her mind to an accurate date. ‘Not as far as I am aware. I take it he’s done his usual thing of not putting it in my diary?’

  Tom laughed. ‘Yes, he’s not been in today. I’ve tried his mobile, but I know he switches it off when he’s with a client, or in court. It’s not urgent, I don’t want to waste my time trying to find him if he’s not contactable for a specific reason. So, how are you?’

  ‘I’m okay. Aching to hold Jake again. Gareth’s funeral is next Tuesday at ten, Abbey Lane Cemetery. There’ll be drinks and a lunch afterwards, but I don’t know where, yet.’

  ‘We’ll be there, you know that, don’t you?’

  She stifled a sob. ‘Thank you. That means a lot. How is Karen doing?’

  ‘Very well. A little nervous, but that will pass. I seem to remember you being nervous, once…’

  ‘A long time ago,’ she said drily.

  ‘I miss you – we both do. But your job is safe, never doubt that. We have plans for you. At the new place.’

  ‘Tell me more,’ she said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

  ‘Not yet. But better times are coming, hold that thought. If you need either of us for anything before next Tuesday, simply pick up the phone. Are you listening to me?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Speak to you soon,’ and she replaced the receiver, her lips curving into a smile for the first time that day. Tom Banton had always been able to cheer her up.

  Lynda Checkley rang later, ostensibly to ask if she was okay. Liz told her she had been to arrange Gareth’s funeral, and she was feeling far from okay, but coping. Lynda’s next comment surprised her.

  ‘I’ve been thinking…’ She hesitated. ‘I know we’ve all checked your files for any low-life folks who may have felt angry at you for them being in prison, but has anybody asked you if you’ve ever managed to upset somebody at work? Or anywhere else for that matter? People can bear grudges for a long time.’

  ‘At work?’ Liz paused for a moment, letting her mind roam back over the years. ‘There was only one – somebody who I upset by being promoted into Tom and Oliver’s next-door office. She thought she should have had the job. But she’s dead now anyway, died of cancer about three years ago. I really can’t think of anybody
else.’

  Lynda sighed. ‘Okay, it was merely a thought. This is such a frustrating case. Nobody saw anything, nobody is reporting anything out of the ordinary, nothing.’

  ‘I’ll get my boy back, you know.’ Liz’s voice was strong. ‘He’ll come home to me.’

  ‘We’re all hoping for that outcome. Me especially. I have a son of the same age. I suffocate him with cuddles these days. It’s all too easy to think “there but for the grace of God”…’

  They disconnected the call, and Liz switched on the television. There was a small piece about the ongoing investigation; it was dying a natural death, through lack of results. She wanted to scream at them, to force them to keep Jacob Chambers’ name in the forefront of everyone’s mind; she didn’t want him forgotten. She switched it off in anger, irrational anger; she knew he wasn’t important to the rest of the world, just her and Dan, but she needed the rest of the world to keep searching for him.

  It was fully dark, and she stared through the lounge window, watching the two officers watching her. They must have had a shift change because they were different to the two escorts of that morning. She saw them sit up a little straighter, then both got out. Brent climbed out of the car that had pulled in front of them. He spoke briefly, and they returned to their vehicle.

  Liz moved to the front door, dread in her heart.

  She opened the door, wordlessly. ‘Hi, Liz. Take that look off your face. I’m not here with news of Jake.’ He watched her face crumple, and tears flowed.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Bad day?’

  She nodded. ‘Bad day.’ She pulled her tissue from her sleeve and mopped ineffectually at the tears. ‘Are you here for a reason?’

  ‘I am.’

  She saw his eyes change, from caring to professional. ‘It’s concerning Oliver Hardwick.’

  ‘Oliver?’ She looked puzzled. ‘He’s not arrived at work, then?’

  ‘You knew he was missing?’

  ‘Sort of. I knew Tom Banton couldn’t track him down. I didn’t know he was missing…’ Her eyes widened as she took in the implications. ‘Oh my God, you think he’s been taken as well, don’t you?’

  ‘He’s connected to you, we can’t discount that there’s a link.’

  Fear flashed across her face. ‘But why? What have I done to bring all this down on people that I love?’

  They moved into the lounge and sat down. Liz was tearing her tissue into shreds. ‘Have you checked with his wife? With Julia?’

  ‘She’s the one who has officially made him a missing person. Ordinarily, we wouldn’t even be considering it at this early stage, but in view of his link to our investigation, we’re taking it seriously. Apparently your Mr Banton has been ringing his mobile phone all day, with no success. He eventually rang Julia Hardwick, who knew nothing of his whereabouts, but by this time alarm bells were ringing in Mr Banton’s head, and he asked Julia, as Mr Hardwick’s next of kin, to report him missing. They’re being interviewed right now, in the hope we can get some lead on him.’

  ‘He lives alone…’ she started to say.

  ‘We know. We have no idea when he was last seen. His wife hasn’t seen him for some time, although they have infrequent conversations by text. She’s almost of the impression he’s doing it to get her back; apparently, he was devastated when she left him, and it’s been pretty constant, the barrage of texts telling her he wants her back in his home. I don’t think that’s the case. I think he’s been taken. I need to ask you a question. Have you and Oliver Hardwick ever been anything other than employer / employee?’

  ‘My God, no!’ Her answer was emphatic. ‘I have only ever slept with two men in my life, Gareth and Phil. Yes, Oliver was a friend as well as an employer, but that’s all.’

  Brent nodded. ‘Does his wife know that?’

  ‘What? There’s nothing for Julia to know, or even query… I’m not really sure what you’re getting at.’

  I’m getting at Julia Hardwick. Have you ever managed to cross her, either knowingly or accidentally?’

  ‘We’ve been friends for years. Since junior school. Met up again when I started work for Banton and Hardwick because I recognised her from the photo on Oliver’s desk. For fuck’s sake, I wouldn’t sleep with her husband.’ He could hear the anger in her voice, and knew there could be more to come. He had to push her, to make sure she was telling the truth.

  ‘You slept with Phil Latimer,’ he said. ‘I don’t imagine Rosemary Latimer was too pleased about that.’

  ‘I loved… love… Phil. I didn’t love Oliver. Simple.’ Her tone was scathing. ‘Now back off, and go and find the bastard who is doing this to me. And get those two gone from my driveway, I don’t want any protection from now on. Let whoever is taking them come and get me. At least I’ll see my son again. I mean it, DI Brent. Get them out looking for this kidnapper, instead of guarding me.’

  ‘That’s against my wishes, Liz.’

  ‘Do I care? I’m going to see my husband in the Chapel of Rest tomorrow, and I’m going alone. If they’re still at the top of my drive blocking my car’s exit, I’ll ram them. That’s a promise. Tell them to go when you leave here. Now, is there anything else?’

  ‘Not at the moment. Can I send Tanya back to you if you don’t want the lads in the car?’

  ‘No. Leave Dan and I alone. We’ll look after each other.’

  He nodded. ‘As you wish. I’ll be in touch.’ He stood. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  Her anger was evident in the way she held her head, the stiffness in her frame as she stood. ‘Find my son,’ she snarled as he exited her house.

  Chapter 39

  The density of the cloud cover effectively blocked out the moon, and the night sky was black, dense like velvet. The wind had increased slowly through the day to howling level; the rain was torrential. A bad night to be out, and few people had ventured far from their homes. The attractions of a fire proved to be much better than ferreting out the wellies and going to the pub, or to bingo.

  Dog walkers let their shivering, reluctant pets out into the back garden, instead of taking them out for their night-time perambulations. In the darkness of the woodland, a tree branch creaked as the wind, slightly less strong in the more sheltered environment, caused the weight attached to the limb of the tree to move.

  It swung, it spiralled. The bowels and bladder had long since evacuated, the eyes stared. Rainwater dripped off the dangling fingers; the hair was flattened to the scalp.

  Oliver Hardwick was not destined to join Phil Latimer and Jacob Chambers in the cellar. Endgame was underway.

  Chapter 40

  Liz waited until seven before ringing Tom. He was already in the office. From the noise, she guessed he was in her room, using the coffee maker.

  He sounded subdued. ‘Liz?’

  ‘Tom – any news?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t sleep…’

  ‘Me neither. I’ve waited two hours before ringing you…’

  ‘Where can he be, Liz? He’s so predictable. Does everything by the book. If he had planned this time out, he would have cleared it with me. I know he’s been really down over this split from Julia, but…’

  ‘Tom, DI Brent thinks it’s connected to Jake’s disappearance. He doesn’t think Oliver has walked away, he thinks he’s been taken.’

  ‘But that doesn’t make sense, or am I missing something? Oliver is your employer, not your lover or your child. He’s not, is he? Your lover, I mean.’

  ‘No, he’s not. Definitely not. But I do care about Oliver, as I care about you. Brent is convinced that all of this is to punish me, to make me suffer, and it’s bloody working. We can’t work out who would want to do that.’

  Tom hesitated. ‘Rosemary Latimer?’

  ‘No, she has an alibi for the time of the murders. And she loves Melissa too much. That child comes first with her; she wouldn’t risk prison, risk losing everything. Yes, she’s mad at me, would probably like to see me dead even, but she wouldn’t do anything abou
t it.’

  He sighed. ‘You’re probably right. I was clutching at straws. I’m going to ring Julia now, see if she knows anything. I’m assuming Brent will have her as first port of call, as they’re technically still married. I’ll ring you later.’

  She put down the receiver and walked into the kitchen. It was still dark, the rain bucketing down, lashing against the window.

  Slowly, over the next twenty minutes or so, the sky lightened. Her mood didn’t.

  She dressed carefully, knowing this would be the last time she would ever look on Gareth’s face. She thanked God for all the memories they had created over their joint lifetime, and knew she would always miss him.

  When Dan joined her, he was dressed in his suit. ‘I’ve decided to go with you.’

  ‘Have I forced you into this?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, you haven’t. I think I’m scared of seeing a dead body, but he’s my dad. He never hurt me when he was alive, and he wouldn’t hurt me now he’s gone. Is his face…?’

  ‘It’s untouched,’ she said gently, and pulled him close. ‘It will be like seeing him sleeping.’

  She felt him nod.

  He moved away from her, and headed for the kitchen. Removing his suit jacket, he called, ‘Want me to cook the cornflakes this morning?’

  She smiled. ‘Make mine Coco Pops. I need chocolate.’

  Dan clung tightly to Liz’s hand as they were led into the room where Gareth lay. To Dan’s horror, he realised that ‘looking as if he were asleep’ was a mile away from how his father looked. He looked dead.

  He choked back a sob, and she released his hand, pulling him closer to her, her arm around his shoulders.

  ‘I’m here for you,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t be afraid. Your dad wouldn’t want that.’

  They stood for a moment without moving, and then Liz released her hold on him and moved forward. She touched the back of her hand on Gareth’s brow.