Snared

by Ed James

  Vicky took a deep breath — Mum should’ve kept her voice down. “She wasn’t shouting, Bells.”

  “She was cross with you, wasn’t she?”

  “She was. Mummy had to stay late at work.”

  “Were you catching baddies?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

  “Why?”

  “Bella, Mummy’s not at work tomorrow. We’ll do some fun stuff, okay?”

  “Can we catch some baddies?”

  “We’ll see. Remember, if you’re a good girl, you’ll get to stay with Cameron and Ailish tomorrow night?”

  “Yay!”

  “Do you want me to read you a story?”

  “Sleepy, Mummy. Night-night.”

  “Goodnight.” Vicky left the room and stood outside Bella’s door, listening to her breathing. She wiped the tears from her cheek and slowly walked down the stairs.

  In the kitchen, she reached into the fridge for the bottle of wine. She went over to the sink and tipped it out. She leaned against the sink, her eyes filling with tears again.

  Bella’s life was just passing her by.

  Her eyes moistened again. She remembered giving birth, Liz holding her hand tight, like it was yesterday. Where had the years gone? Before she knew it, Bella would be leaving home and she’d have nothing to show for it but memories of tucking her in.

  There was a scratching at the back door. She blinked the tears away as she let Tinkle in, the cat shivering from the rain. Vicky picked her up and cuddled her for a few seconds before leaving her on the counter while she got the tin of cat food from the fridge and spooned it into her bowl.

  She watched the cat eat, realising Tinkle was at the opposite end of the spectrum from the animals Rachel Hay was selling, a half-feral tabby who’d softened over the years to the point where she could be picked up and handled. When she was hungry.

  Her mouth went dry. Rachel lying in the hospital bed, Paul almost catatonic. She’d no idea where this case was going. Whoever was doing it was beyond sick. What they’d tried to force Rachel and Paul to do . . . Christ.

  She poured a glass of water, sipping as she stared out of the window into the dark night.

  Saturday

  29th March 2014

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Vicky woke up, her mouth dry. She reached to the bedside table for her glass of water. Empty.

  She squinted at the alarm clock. 7.04.

  A banging noise came from downstairs. Her heart fluttered.

  She got up and tugged her dressing gown around her, tying it as she raced downstairs, narrowly avoiding stepping on Tinkle as her little fat body raced up the stairs to the warmth of Vicky’s bed.

  There was someone at the door.

  She opened it, blinking at the early morning light.

  “Morning, Vicky.”

  “Dad?”

  He held up his toolbox. “I’ve come to put those shelves up in Bella’s room.”

  Vicky rested a hand on her face. “Dad, it’s seven on a Saturday.”

  “Well, I was up anyway and your mother’s baking scones for a coffee morning so I thought I’d get out and be useful.”

  “At least it’s not Bella waking me up today.” Vicky opened the door wide. “Come on in, then.”

  Dad lifted his head, his nostrils twitching. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  “I don’t drink coffee, Dad.”

  “Right. Of course you don’t. Have you got any?”

  Vicky tightened the belt of her gown. “Aye. Come on, I’ll make you some.”

  “There’s a good girl. I’ve had my porridge but a coffee would be smashing.”

  Vicky led into the kitchen and filled the kettle, clicking it on. “Milk and two still?”

  Dad seated himself on a stool at the breakfast bar and produced a small white box. “Your mother’s got me on these sweeteners. They taste horrible if you try to eat them but they’re not too bad in a coffee.”

  “Okay.” Vicky poured milk over the instant coffee granules and started making a paste as the water boiled, the sharp aroma hitting her nostrils. “Remember when me and Andrew were wee and we used to dunk biscuits in your coffee?”

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “That’s the only time I’ll have the stuff.” The kettle clicked off and she filled the mug before stirring it. “There you go, Dad.”

  “Cheers.” He clicked in four sweeteners before taking a drink, showing no reaction to the temperature. “How’s work going?”

  “So you still miss the force then, Dad?”

  He shook his head. “Never retire, Vicky. It’s a bloody nightmare.”

  “In what way?”

  “I just keep thinking about old cases and people who’d want to get me. It’s hard to switch off.” Dad took another sip. “Tell me about this case. I’ve asked twice now.”

  Vicky laughed. “You’re not really interested in the detail, are you?”

  “Not really. Are you still enjoying it?”

  “I am but I’m struggling with the stress.”

  “It gets to you in the end, my girl.”

  “The case we’re working on just now, nothing seems to fit together.”

  “That’s the bit I loved most about being a detective. Everything feels like chaos.”

  “So what would you do?”

  “Threatening to kick the shit out of them usually helped.”

  “Dad!”

  He laughed. “In all seriousness, it was always a case of just speaking to more and more people. Usually, they’d done something stupid somewhere along the line. What’s this case you’re working on?”

  “A kidnapping. A brother and a sister were abducted and taken to an industrial estate.”

  “You find them?”

  Vicky nodded. “We did, aye.”

  “Didn’t see anything in the paper about it this morning.”

  “Yeah, think we’re trying to keep it out of the press just now.”

  “But you’ve caught the kidnappers?”

  Vicky shook her head. “No, we rescued the brother and sister but we didn’t get whoever did it.”

  “I see.”

  Vicky reached into the fridge for the two-litre bottle of Diet Coke. She poured out a glass and took a sip — almost entirely flat. “I’ll take Bella up Dundee Law today, I think.”

  “What, driving up?”

  “No, I’ll walk. It’ll tire her out.”

  “That’s what me and your mother did every weekend. Get you and Andrew to run around and exhaust yourselves.”

  Vicky stared into her glass, only a couple of bubbles dancing on the surface. “I’m worried I’m pissing Mum off.”

  “Why?”

  “Dumping Bella on you guys all the time. I’m such a shit mother. Why can’t I just look after her and do my job?” She started crying, images of Bella asleep in her bed creeping all over her.

  Dad got up and held her in his arms. “Hey there, baby girl, that’s no way to be.”

  “I’m ruining her life, Dad.”

  “She’s a good girl.” He stroked her back, slowly, just like when she was a child or a teenager, heart broken by an idiot boy. “And don’t worry about your mother.”

  “You sure Mum’s not getting pissed off at me?”

  Dad stood back and held her out at arm’s reach. “Don’t worry about pissing your mum off. For one, you know she’s always like that. Second, we love looking after the wee girl. Keeps us young, I think.” He stared into space. “Takes your mother’s mind off what’s happened to your brother.”

  “How’s Andrew doing? I mean really?”

  “Not good. The boy’s a chip off the old block but I can handle it, whereas he obviously can’t. This ME or whatever it is, it’s killing your mother seeing him
like that. The silly bugger pushed himself far too hard and just didn’t know when to stop.”

  “Quite a pair we turned out to be.”

  Dad stroked her arm. “We’re proud of you both. Never forget that.”

  “Grandad!”

  Dad spun round and lifted Bella up in his arms, twirling her around the small kitchen. “How’s my girl?”

  “Mummy says we’re going to go catch baddies today, Grandad!”

  Dad beamed at Vicky. “She’s another chip off the old block.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Vicky leaned against the railings at the top of Dundee Law, bracing herself against the wind as she took in the view south across the sprawl of Dundee towards the Tay with its twin bridges leading into Fife. Dark clouds loomed overhead, a heavy curtain hanging all the way over to Perth in the west.

  “Up, Mummy!”

  Vicky looked down at Bella. “We are up.”

  “No, up! Up on the metal things!”

  “It’s not safe, Bella.”

  “My wee leggies are tired. That was a long walk.”

  Vicky lifted Bella up and rested her legs on the cold metal, careful to support her.

  Bella pointed to the river. “Where’s that?”

  “That’s the River Tay. The land behind it’s Fife.”

  “Five?”

  “No, Fife. It’s where Auntie Karen and Uncle Colin come from.”

  “I thought Cameron was born in Fumdernland, not Five.”

  “Dunfermline. It’s in Fife.”

  “Oh.” Bella took in the panorama. “Where’re the baddies?”

  “There aren’t any baddies up here.”

  “I thought there would be.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want to come up?”

  “Grandad said I wouldn’t be able to get up the hill with my wee leggies. I did, though.”

  So that’s where she’d got it from. “Why did you think there would be baddies up here?”

  “It’s called the Law Hill. Grandad said it’s a prison.”

  “It’s not been a jail for a long time.”

  Bella pointed at the war memorial. “Is that not it?”

  “That’s not the jail. That helps us remember people like Granny’s uncle Jimmy who died in the War.”

  “Oh.”

  Vicky lifted her down from the railings. “How was playgroup this week?”

  “I liked it. Caitlin and Jayden were my best pals. They gave me football stickers. I like Arsenal.” Bella looked up at the memorial, legs crossed in the way she’d inherited from her mother. She stared up at Vicky. “Mummy, why haven’t I got a daddy?”

  Vicky gasped, the nerve in her neck starting to jangle. “You’ve got a mummy, Bells. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Stinky Simon doesn’t have a daddy. Hayden has a daddy but not a mummy.”

  Vicky’s phone rang — saved by the bell. She tucked Bella between her legs before getting out her phone and checking the display. Dad. “You haven’t burnt the house down, have you?”

  He laughed. “No, not yet, but that cat’s not speaking to me. I only tried to stroke her.”

  “Why are you calling?”

  “It’s noisy where you are.”

  “I told you, we’re up the Law, Dad.”

  “You couldn’t pop into B&Q or the new place on the Kingsway for a bag of eight-mil screws, could you?”

  Vicky rubbed at her face. “Couldn’t you have done that before you came round this morning?”

  “I wanted to get a head start. Besides, there’s two short in the box. I’m not going to take it back down now.”

  “Right, fine. I’ll get it. Bye.” She pocketed her phone. She knelt, looking through the railings across the southern edge of Dundee, resting her head on Bella’s. “Have you been a good girl?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve not helped Mummy catch any baddies yet.”

  Vicky laughed. “You’ve been a good girl so far. Come on, Toots. Let’s get some hot chocolate before we do our shopping.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  No! Mummy! I want to see the owls!”

  “Come on, Bella.” Vicky lifted her up, her police training stretched almost to breaking as she tried to maintain calm amid the hostile stares from the other customers.

  A collection of poor-looking birds of prey — owls, kites and a few others Vicky didn’t recognise — sat in a stall to the side of the entrance to Fixit DIY. The rat-faced proprietor wandered over. “Can let your wee girl see the birds for half price if you keep her quiet.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “She doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “She had a giant hot chocolate and her blood sugar level’s collapsing.” Vicky barged past him, carrying Bella inside the store. “Come on, Bella, that man’s a real baddie.”

  Little fists pounded on her back. “Mummy! No!”

  Vicky hurried around the store, getting lost as Bella screamed and hammered at her back. She ended up in the paint aisle then the kitchens. She doubled back and crossed the aisle. There they were.

  Eight mil — was that the drill size or the screw size? She grabbed both bags before racing to the tills. The self-service was free so she scanned the bag as Bella clung tight, her tears slicking onto Vicky’s shoulder. She put Bella down so she could pay, then led her out of the store.

  Bella stopped by the bird display, tiny hands rubbing at her eyes. “Grandad would let me see them.”

  “Mummy will need to have words with Grandad, then.”

  “Why won’t you let me see the birds?”

  Vicky took a deep breath, the knot in her neck tightening. Rachel and Paul in their cage. “It’s cruel, Bells. The birds don’t want to be there.”

  “Are they sore?”

  “Very sore. They’re in agony.” Vicky grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go get our shopping.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Why’s this called the Riverside, Mummy?”

  Vicky stood by the chiller in Tesco, cold air blasting out, the smell of doughnuts wafting over from the bakery. She pointed past the tills. “That’s the river we were looking at up on the Law. We’re just beside it.”

  “Okay.”

  Vicky held out a packet of own-brand free-range chicken Kievs. “Shall we have these for tea next week?”

  Bella folded her arms around her chest. “I like eating at Granny’s. I get soup there.”

  “Just soup?”

  Bella giggled. “Biscuits. And sausages. And chicken nuggets. And tablet!”

  “Did Granny tell you to say soup?”

  Bella pouted. “Maybe.”

  Vicky pushed the trolley towards the next aisle. Thank God the tantrum was over.

  “Why do we do the fridge bit last, Mummy? Granny always does it first in the Co-op.”

  “The Co-op’s a lot closer to Granny’s house than the Tesco is to ours, so Mummy wants the cold stuff to stay as cold as it can.”

  “Oh. Are those the baddies?”

  Vicky followed the line of her finger. “I don’t know.” Her phone rang. She got it out, expecting another fool’s errand from Dad. Considine.

  “You on today, Sarge?”

  “Day off. What is it?”

  “No need to be so clipped. Just thought I’d let you know John and Brian left the house and are at the Riverside Tesco.”

  “Right.” Vicky pocketed the phone, eyes shut. “Shi — sugar.” She opened them, looking around for Brian or John. She knelt down. “Bella, if you want to help Mummy catch the baddies, you’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

  “As quiet as Tinkle when I feed her?”

  “Quieter.” She picked Bella up, grabbed her empty bags for life and left the full trolley in the
aisle, hurrying towards the tills and the exits.

  “Where are we going, Mummy?”

  “Monifieth.”

  “Why?”

  “Mummy remembered she needs something from there.”

  “Are there baddies in here?”

  “Maybe.”

  At the end, two middle-aged women stood chatting, arms waving in the air, heads craning back in laughter, their trolleys across the full width of the aisle.

  Vicky barged past, shoving a trolley into one of them.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry.” Vicky started jogging, desperate to get out of the shop.

  A mobility scooter came round the corner just ahead of her, Brian Morton’s flab rolling over the sides. John Morton pushed a trolley loaded with cakes — artisan brands Vicky could never afford. She swapped Bella to the other hip and walked back down the aisle, the nerve throbbing. “Come on. We better go this way.”

  She raced as fast as she could, a shelf stacker already checking out her abandoned trolley, continually looking back the way she’d come.

  John stood at the end of the aisle, gesticulating to his brother.

  Vicky cleared the end and put Bella down. Racing past the bakery and its cloying fresh bread smells, they cut up through the fruit and veg section, dodging trolleys as they went. She made it out of the front of the store, Bella skipping alongside as they walked back to the car.

  “Morning, Vicky.”

  She stopped dead, eyes shooting around.

  “Over here.” Considine sat in a dark grey Mondeo, eyes hidden behind shades, arm resting on the open window.

  Vicky allowed herself to breathe, eyes on the front of the store. “Didn’t fancy taking the Python out?”

  “This blends in better.”

  “You’re not being very inconspicuous, Stephen. You look like you’re in Reservoir Dogs.”

  “Never mind. They’ll be ages in there. Can’t believe you were there as well.”

  “Me neither.” Vicky stared up at the heavens. “John said he filled a trolley in Tesco.”

  “Aye. Probably the only thing he was telling the truth about.”

  Vicky put a hand on her hip, her heartbeat slowing. “Have they done anything today?”