Their footsteps echoed; the tiled floor at an angle that Yvonne found difficult to keep her balance in her heels.
‘What’s wrong with the floor?’ Her voice wavered.
‘It’s a soak away,’ said Tony, pointing at the large grille in the middle of the room. ‘All the water will wash towards that.’
He began to pace the room, his hands running over the tiles.
‘Where is she, Tony?’
Yvonne cringed as her voice bounced off the tiles, before the fear wrapped itself around her insides and squeezed.
‘He said she’d be here,’ he said. He continued to run his hands over the tiles. ‘Maybe there’s a hidden door?’
Yvonne sucked in a breath. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘What?’ He spun to face her. ‘What?’
‘Shhh,’ she urged, and held up a finger.
Melanie wasn’t a big girl; in fact, she was skinny for her age, with slender shoulders and hips. Yvonne had always marvelled that her daughter had never broken a bone – she looked so fragile, as if the slightest touch would shatter her.
‘Tony?’ She pointed at the grille in the tiled floor.
His skin paled as he followed her gaze, before he dropped to his knees, his fingers pushing through the grille. ‘I can’t see anything.’
Yvonne crouched, threaded her fingers around the grille, and met his gaze. ‘On three.’
The steelwork groaned under their touch, and then lifted a little, its right-hand edge tantalisingly higher than the left.
Tony worked his fingers closer, and tightened his grip. ‘Now.’
The grille slid away, exposing the dark opening.
‘There’s a ladder,’ said Yvonne, and leaned closer.
When he shone the torch down the gaping maw of the hole, she frowned, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.
Then Tony began to scream, his terror echoing off the walls of the laboratory.
Chapter 2
Detective Sergeant Kay Hunter’s hand shot out and gripped the handle set into the side of the car’s door as Detective Constable Ian Barnes accelerated around a sharp left-hand curve.
‘Uniform reported it twenty minutes ago,’ he said, as he straightened the vehicle and eased his foot off the pedal. ‘We’re the nearest detectives, so guess what?’
‘What?’
‘Our day just turned to shit.’
Kay acknowledged the statement with a snort.
She was grateful though. Detective Inspector Devon Sharp could have insisted on running the scene as Senior Investigating Officer, but had instead phoned her with the assignment.
‘You’ll be my deputy SIO,’ he’d said, before ending their brief phone call. ‘You need this.’
She exhaled. She’d owe him after this one, that was for sure.
Up ahead, a silver saloon car and two patrol cars came into view, one with the emergency lights still flashing, the passenger door open.
‘Pathologist is already here,’ she said, and silently thanked the first-on-scene police officers for being so organised.
‘Must have been a quiet day for him,’ said Barnes.
As he slowed to approach the parked cars, he ran through the known facts.
‘The father made the call. The woman from dispatch reported he was near hysterical by the time she spoke to him. Apparently, he and the wife discovered their seventeen-year-old daughter, Melanie, down a drain in one of the buildings here. Strangled.’
‘How did she get here?’
‘She was kidnapped – five days ago.’
Kay sighed. ‘Dammit, I wish they’d told us.’
Barnes grunted a reply.
Despite the threats a kidnapper could make, common police practice meant many kidnappings in the UK were brought to a successful closure, simply because the police worked diligently behind the scenes, and with a total media blackout.
Kay loosened her grip on the door as her colleague swung the car to a stop behind one of the patrol vehicles.
She climbed from the car, and introduced herself to the two uniformed officers who were standing next to a couple in their late forties, a look of horror on their faces.
The elder of the two uniformed officers stepped forward. ‘I’m Sergeant Davis. We were first responders.’
She introduced herself, and then led the way across the concrete apron of the building until they were away from the couple before she spoke.
‘I understand they’ve found their daughter here, and that she’s been strangled?’
He nodded. ‘Seems she was kidnapped while they were on holiday,’ he said. ‘They paid the ransom money about an hour ago, and were told to come here to get their daughter. They found her body in the old testing laboratory, down a drain. It looks as if she’s been strangled.’
Kay’s eyes fell to the silver car. ‘Pathologist here?’
‘Yes. He was on his way from another call. Arrived ten minutes before you.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘He’s in there now.’
‘Nothing you could do to save her?’
His eyes clouded, and he shook his head. ‘It’s pretty bad. Girl’s hanging down the drain by her neck.’ He frowned. ‘It’s hard to ascertain from the parents what they might have touched. They definitely removed the drain cover to try to reach the girl. We haven’t touched anything in there, and the scene’s been preserved. We got fingerprints off the parents to eliminate those for forensics.’
‘Good work, thank you.’ She turned to the other detective who had wandered over. ‘Right, Ian,’ she said, ‘you speak to the husband, I’ll have a word with the wife.’
‘Okay.’ Barnes nodded, and made his way over to the couple.
Kay waited a moment, and then joined him, making a beeline for the woman. ‘Yvonne Richards?’
The woman nodded.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Kay Hunter. I’m very sorry to hear about your daughter, but I need to ask you some questions.’
The woman looked to her husband, who was already conversing with Barnes. He glanced up, nodded, and turned back to the other detective.
A tear rolled down her cheek, yet she seemed oblivious, and it was all Kay could do not to wipe it away.
Instead, she turned the page of her notebook and pressed on, keeping her voice calm.
‘Yvonne, when Tony made the triple nine call, he said Melanie had been taken five days ago. Why didn’t you call the police then?’
The woman choked back a sob, and clasped her hands together.
‘We didn’t know she was gone. We’ve been in Europe. We – we only got back two days ago, and that’s when he phoned. He said he’d kill her if we called the police. He said he’d rape her first, and make us listen.’ She broke off, and her hands fluttered to her mouth. ‘He said he thought we didn’t believe him, and then he made her scream.’
Kay glanced across to where Barnes was talking to Tony Richards. She frowned, and saw that DC Barnes had his hand on Tony’s arm, and seemed to be steadying him.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kay, directing her gaze back to Yvonne. ‘I have to ask these questions.’
The woman flapped a hand. ‘I know. I know. Oh, god—’
She sniffed loudly, took the paper tissue Kay handed to her, and blew her nose.
Kay took a moment, and then continued.
‘Have you any idea why Melanie was taken?’
Yvonne shook her head. ‘We’re not rich,’ she managed, ‘despite what it might look like to some. Tony doesn’t work – my business is doing well, so he stays home.’ She gulped. ‘It’s nice for Mel to have someone there when she gets home from school in the afternoons.’
‘What did the kidnapper say he wanted?’
‘Twenty thousand pounds.’
Kay kept her face passive, and wrote the figure in her notebook, placing a question mark next to it.
‘What timeframe did he give you?’
‘Today.’ Yvonne frowned. ‘He was very precise – we had to drop it off bet
ween six-thirty and seven o’clock this morning.’
‘How did you give him the money?’
‘We had to put it in a padded envelope,’ said Yvonne. ‘He told us to put it in the post box on Channing Lane – the road that runs behind the industrial park.’
‘In the post box?’
‘Only enough so the end still poked out.’ Yvonne shivered. ‘Tony had to do it. My hands were shaking so much, I thought I’d let it go, and then what would we have done?’
Kay turned to the uniformed officer closest to her.
‘Take your car. Preserve the scene. You know what to do. Go.’
The man didn’t hesitate. He called out to his colleague and they ran towards their car, the lights flaring a second before the siren began to wail, and they tore from the kerb.
Kay watched them leave, and then turned back to Yvonne. ‘What happened next?’
‘We drove away, like he told us. We had to park in the car park next to the library in Allington. He called us, said he had the money, and gave the address of where we could find Mel. He told us to hurry, because time was running out.’
The roar of an engine interrupted them, and Kay turned to see a dark panel van braking next to the unmarked police car before its driver threw it into reverse and drew to a halt next to the open gates of the biosciences building.
The driver climbed out of the vehicle and made her way over to the side of the building.
A man in overalls emerged from the facility and joined her before they began to converse in hushed tones.
‘Who’s that?’
Yvonne’s voice held a tremor.
‘The head of the crime scene investigation team,’ said Kay. She guided Yvonne away from the building, and turned so the woman’s back was to the two figures.
Before long, the side of the van slid open, and the team began to assemble, their actions swift and well-rehearsed.
Kay’s head snapped round at a yell from Barnes.
‘Call an ambulance!’
Her eyes opened wide as she saw Tony Richards sink to the ground, before Barnes grabbed his arm to break his fall and helped the man to sit.
Kay didn’t hesitate. She hit triple nine on her mobile phone and rattled off the details to the control room as she ran towards the stricken man, Yvonne’s footsteps close behind.
They reached Tony at the same time.
‘What happened?’
Barnes crouched next to the man, pulled his wrist towards him, and held his index finger against the thin skin. ‘Chest pains.’
‘Oh, god – Tony.’
Yvonne Richards sank to the ground next to her husband, whose face had whitened, and grabbed his other hand.
A croak emitted from his lips, and his eyes closed a moment before he slumped sideways.
Kay reached out and ripped open the man’s shirt, buttons scattering over the ground, before she balled her hand into a fist and beat the man’s chest once, hard.
Barnes leaned over, gently straightened the man’s head, steadied it between his hands, and nodded to Kay.
She started the compressions, one hand placed over the other across Tony’s ribs.
Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades, but the man remained unresponsive after several minutes.
‘Sarge? You want me to take over?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
She swore inwardly.
Tony Richards didn’t look an unhealthy man, but there was no telling what shock could do to a person.
Right now, she had to remain calm. She couldn’t let the man’s wife see her panic, not with what she was already going through.
‘Boss, I’ll take over.’
Barnes nudged her out of the way, and she rocked back on her heels, grateful for the respite.
Tony emitted a gasp, and his eyes fluttered open.
‘Tony!’
Yvonne Richards shoved Barnes aside, and wrapped her arms around her husband’s chest.
‘Mrs Richards, please,’ said Barnes. He gently pulled her away. ‘Let him get some air.’
The sound of approaching sirens carried on the wind, and Kay straightened as the ambulance rounded the corner.
She hurried to meet it; pointing out the access route they should take to reach their patient, and waited while they hurriedly pulled overalls, gloves, and plastic booties over their uniforms to avoid contaminating the scene.
She followed the path they took with the stretcher, the rattle and clang of wheels across the cracked concrete surface setting her teeth on edge.
She stood close as they assessed Tony’s vital signs, their voices calm as they worked. The elder of the two stood and gestured to her to step to one side with him, out of earshot of Yvonne.
‘We’re going to have to take him,’ he said. ‘You’ve done well, but we need to get him to hospital now. It’s too risky to wait.’
‘You were told on the way over what’s happened here?’ Kay raised an eyebrow.
The paramedic nodded. ‘We’ll let the hospital know when we get there, and request they keep you informed.’
Kay handed him one of her business cards. ‘Thank you. Go.’
He nodded, and within minutes they had loaded Tony onto the stretcher and wheeled him towards the back of the ambulance.
Kay hurried over to Yvonne Richards, who was being comforted by one of the police officers, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide as she watched her husband be stretchered away.
The woman looked over her shoulder towards the industrial building where the body of her daughter had been found, then back to the ambulance.
Kay stepped forward, and put her hand on the woman’s arm.
‘Go with your husband. I’ll stay with your daughter.’
The woman’s eyes met hers, confusion crossing her face, and Kay saw then that it was the right decision. The woman needed to get to hospital anyway, before shock set in and she too suffered any kind of medical condition.
‘Go with this man,’ she reiterated. ‘He’ll take you to the hospital with your husband.’
One of the paramedics nodded, and began to steer the woman towards the waiting ambulance, its blue lights blinking across the wall of the biosciences facility.
Yvonne squeezed Kay’s fingers before she was out of reach.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and then hurried through the back doors of the ambulance to be with her husband.
Kay flipped her notebook shut and tucked it into her handbag, then rolled an elastic band off her wrist and tied back her shoulder-length blonde hair.
‘Right, you bastard,’ she muttered. ‘Let’s see what you did to her.’
Find out more about the Detective Kay Hunter series and more of Rachel’s books here:
www.rachelamphlett.com
Afterword
Dear Reader
* * *
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading The Friend Who Lied.
I’ve had a fascination with locked room mysteries for a number of years, and in between reading some favourite thrillers and crime fiction, I’ve devoured a lot of psychological suspense.
Writing The Friend Who Lied enabled me to combine those two loves into one story, and I had a lot of fun writing it.
Thanks to Keshini Naidoo for reading an early draft and providing valuable feedback, and to Donna Hillyer for her work in bringing the manuscript to life as well as providing advice about organ donation and the transplant process. Julia Gibbs is, as always, a formidable proofreader and an integral part of my team.
Thanks to my writing friends who provided encouragement along the way – a special thank you to Rachel Abbott, Shalini Boland, Robert Bryndza, Adam Croft, Lisa Hall, Caroline Mitchell and Mel Sherratt for being at the end of an email and giving me a thumbs up or a kick when I needed it.
Finally, but of course by no means least, thank you to my amazing readers and the book blogging community. I couldn’t do any of this without you, and it’s because of you I turn up for work in the writin
g cave every morning.
Thanks again for reading The Friend Who Lied. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review – it really is the best way to help me spread the word about my writing.
* * *
Thank you.
Rachel Amphlett
www.rachelamphlett.com
The Friend Who Lied Page 21
