The Vanishing

by John Connor

  She ran her hands through her hair, staring out of the window as the driver got out and walked off into the darkness. What Alison Spencer had told her was twisting things in her head – that was what was going on. Why else would she keep her location from her father? It was absurd. Until that moment – when he had asked her where she was – their whole plan had been to get to him, rely on him. If she no longer wanted to do that then what was left? There was no one else who could solve this. She had to trust her own father.

  She felt lost. The man beside her was the only person she felt sure of right now. But she had known him only a few days, so that was absurd. Nevertheless, she should tell him what Alison had said, she thought, tell him before this went any farther. If something went wrong – if something happened to her – then someone else ought to know what this was all about. And there was no one else she could tell right now. No one.

  It was like she was someone else entirely, someone without money or connections. She was skulking in the darkness by a roadside, waiting for some nobody to help her. Why? ‘Something is wrong with all this,’ she muttered.

  ‘That’s an understatement,’ Tom said.

  ‘My father should have sent people to get me,’ she repeated. ‘Why hasn’t he done that?’

  ‘Maybe because you wouldn’t tell him where you were,’ he said. She caught the implied criticism in his tone. He pointed through the windscreen. ‘Anyway, it looks like someone is coming now.’ She saw headlights swing around the bend in the road, coming towards them. ‘It will be Alex,’ he said. ‘I’ll get out and speak to him. Explain things. You stay here. Is that OK?’ A car pulled into the space in front of them, its headlights dazzling. ‘It will only take a few minutes,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll be back.’

  ‘Wait,’ she said. She grabbed his arm. ‘I have to tell you something. I have to tell you now.’

  He frowned at her. He wanted to get out, go to his friend. He already had the door open. ‘Can’t you tell me when …?’ he started.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It has to be now. I have to tell you what Alison Spencer told me.’

  Outside the car the night was surprisingly warm. Tom stood in the glare of the headlights. He tried to work out what she had just told him might mean. It was more than another piece of information, clearly. More important. She should have told him earlier, he thought, so he could factor it into the decisions they were making. But too late now. Here they were. Here was Alex, walking towards him.

  He felt relief as he saw him. Alex would know what to do. This was the world he was at home in – kidnapping, extortion, violence. He would handle it.

  Alex was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He was the same height as Tom, but built much bigger, the T-shirt tight across his biceps and chest. Ever since his teens he had put in about two hours each day working out, pushing weights, building strength. He never tired of trying to get Tom to join him. There was a fully kitted gym in Alex’s basement, but he never used it, preferring a club in Hounslow instead. Attendance at the club, Tom knew, was like a rite of passage. If you were invited then you were in with a set that Tom had never wanted to get closer to – the people who populated Alex’s ‘working’ world. And Glynn Powell, of course, who owned the place. It was an affront to Powell that Alex had repeatedly invited Tom and Tom had repeatedly declined.

  Alex’s car was a big American SUV, black with tinted windows. Past the dazzling headlights Tom could see there was at least one other person in there, in the back, plus a driver. Their own driver was already standing by the nearside rear door of Alex’s car, by the window, speaking to whoever was in there.

  ‘Who did you bring?’ Tom asked. ‘Who’s in there?’

  ‘Just back-up.’ Alex smiled at him, then put a hand on his arm and led him between the cars. ‘Just in case,’ he added.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Alex,’ Tom said. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  ‘No problem. That’s what friends are for – right? Tell me what it’s about, mate. Come over here and brief me.’

  They went between the cars, Alex keeping Tom between himself and where Sara was. Tom could see her looking out through the window. As they walked alongside the car her window started to slide down. ‘Tell her to close the window,’ Alex said. ‘I don’t want to see her …’ Then he shouted. ‘Keep the window closed.’ Tom was taken by surprise. The window stopped halfway. Tom raised a hand towards her, meant as reassurance, then they were past the car. ‘I thought you were going to take us to your place?’ Tom said. ‘You’ll see her there, so what’s the problem seeing her now? I don’t get it.’

  ‘I don’t want her to see me until I know what’s going on,’ Alex said, still calm. ‘Just a standard precaution. Don’t worry.’ He flashed another smile. In the half-light Tom could barely see him, but he could sense something was off, not as it usually was between them. Alex was smiling, taking control, doing what he did. But something was wrong. They were well past the car now, walking along beside a hedge. ‘Where the fuck are we?’ Tom asked. All he could see in the darkness was fields.

  ‘Middle of nowhere,’ Alex said. ‘A random lay-by on a minor road picked at random off the GPS. Safest that way.’ But he seemed to be heading for a gap in the hedge, like he knew the place.

  ‘We going into the field?’ Tom asked. ‘With the cows?’

  ‘Just out of earshot. While you get me up to speed.’

  Tom stepped across a ditch, then through long grass between two trees, following Alex.

  ‘She’s Sara Eaton,’ Alex said suddenly, stopping in front of him. ‘That’s the name you gave me, right?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Tom looked back, but the hedge was in the way now. He couldn’t see the car. He could see the headlights of the other one still, through the leaves. He looked up into a sky filled with cloud. No stars, no moon. The atmosphere was warm and humid, like there might be a storm. There was a street light off to the left, shining across the hedge and into the field where they stood.

  ‘She’s worth a fucking fortune,’ Alex said. ‘Did you know that?’

  ‘What do you mean, “worth”?’ I know she’s got money …’

  Alex laughed again. ‘Got money. That’s the understatement of the year. That kid …’ He pointed over Tom’s shoulder in the direction of the car. ‘That kid is one of the richest people on the fucking planet.’

  ‘She’s not a kid.’

  He saw Alex open his mouth to say something, then stop, looking more closely at Tom’s face. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘You haven’t fucked her, have you?’ His face broke into a broad grin. ‘Fucking amazing! You’re at it with her, right? I see it in your face. You’re fucking shagging her! Good boy, Tom. I’m proud of you, mate …’

  ‘Cut it out, Alex. Listen to what I have to say. This is serious, fucking serious. I need to tell you what’s happened …’ He stopped. He had heard car doors closing, footsteps. He turned to look, then felt Alex’s hand on his shoulder, turning him round. ‘Other way around,’ Alex said. ‘You need to listen to me.’

  Tom frowned, tried to shake the hand off, but Alex kept it there, gripping his shoulder too hard for comfort. ‘This has bigger dimensions than you thought, mate,’ he said, face grim. ‘You understand?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Tom tried to turn, but Alex stopped him again.

  ‘Whatever you think is going on between you and the little girl doesn’t matter a toss. The little girl is a big deal. She’s not your property. Get it? I’m telling you this as a friend.’

  ‘No. I don’t get it. Get your hand off my shoulder.’

  ‘Listen to me. I don’t have any choice in this. There are people that want her, see.’

  ‘People that …’ Tom tried to turn again, more determined now.

  ‘Yes. Big people. And our man has made a deal with them. They have been in contact with Glynn, and Glynn has made a deal. So she’s going with them. Right now. That’s all there is to it.’

 
Tom’s mouth dropped open. He turned and looked at Alex, looked into his eyes, trying to read if he was messing around. Alex looked straight back at him, but there was nothing amused in his expression. Just a hard stare. ‘Are you serious?’ Tom asked. He couldn’t believe it. ‘Are you fucking serious? You told Glynn you were coming here? I asked you to keep it to yourself. I asked you …’ He felt dizzy. It was like some big black hole opening at his feet. He’d left her back there with them. He’d trusted Alex.

  ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Alex said. He sounded sorry, but his eyes were hard, holding Tom’s stare. ‘Some things I have no control over. I’m chickenshit, a foot soldier. You know how it is. I was given instructions, orders. I’m here for Glynn, not you, and that’s the way it has to be. I’m sorry. So just stand here and wait. Just let them take her. Or I’ll have to put you down. Get it?’

  ‘Put me down? Are you taking the piss, Alex? I’m your fucking friend …’

  ‘I know that. And that’s why I’m here. That’s why it’s happening like this – because we’re friends. What they wanted to do to you was worse. But I talked them out of it, told them I could persuade you. Look. They would have come with shooters, mate. They would have just plugged you. That’s how big she is. I talked them out of it. No problem. But I gave my word. So you have to do this for me – get it? You have to just wait here and …’

  Tom ducked and turned, wrenching away from the arm and dropping beneath it. He stumbled on the grass, but was scrabbling already back towards the hedge. He just got to his feet before Alex caught him and kicked his legs away, dropping him heavily into the grass. Tom opened his mouth and shouted as loud as he could, putting everything into it: ‘SARA!! RUN!!! RUN, SARA!!!’ He heard Alex curse, right beside him, then there was a blow to the side of his head that sent him rolling across the ground. Alex had hit him. ‘Leave me, Alex!’ he shouted. ‘Leave me …’ He got to his knees and started to stand.

  ‘Don’t do this, Tom,’ he heard Alex pant. ‘Don’t make me hit you again. Do as you’re fucking told. Stay there. Stay down.’

  He was right in front of Tom, ready to kick out. Tom rolled sideways and shouted again towards the car. He could hear more doors now, voices. He got to his feet, about to run, but Alex had him by the T-shirt, yanking him backwards. ‘Get off, Alex. You can’t do this …’

  ‘Don’t make me deck you, Tom. You’re a fucking friend. Stay here. Shut up. Don’t make me do it …’

  They started to struggle, everything speeding up, movements fast and increasingly vicious. Tom spun round, knocking Alex’s arm away. But Alex got his legs across his and then they were both on the ground, Alex pinning Tom beneath him. ‘Stay down. Or I’ll fucking damage you. Stay down.’ He was hissing the words into Tom’s ear.

  Tom started to lash out at him with all his strength. Alex was on top of him, heavy, his knees digging into Tom’s legs. Tom swung sideways, unbalanced him, then got his fists free enough to strike his head and face. Alex moved back instinctively, into a crouch, then punched straight through Tom’s flailing arms, into his nose. Tom felt it crack, his head snapping backwards. He shouted out with sudden disbelief and pain. Now it was real, the awareness fully in his mind: Alex was going to stop him getting to her. He was going to kick and hit him and keep him down.

  Tom twisted and turned, kicking out blindly, screaming in desperation. But Alex was right above him now, and kicking back. The first kick came under and into his ribs, so hard Tom was lifted off the ground, coming down hard again on the grass. He didn’t get the chance to get up again. Alex was already stamping at him, then leaning in, punching at his stomach and chest, his fists heavy, the blows stunning. The wind went out of Tom and he gasped for breath, a bursting noise in his ears. Behind it, from the cars, he could hear a muffled screaming. Sara. They were doing something to her. He struggled to move out of the way, but couldn’t. He felt three more kicks, heard a snapping sound in his side, then collapsed backwards and lay on the ground, the world swimming above him.

  He felt Alex holding him by the T-shirt, pulling him up towards him, whispering hoarsely: ‘You’ll thank me for this when you think about it. I’m doing this for you. To protect you …’ Something gave in Tom’s chest and he started to cough. He took a huge breath. His vision was turning black. He rolled over and lay with his face against the dirt, dribbling into it, the breath rasping in his throat.

  ‘Forget you ever saw the girl,’ Alex hissed, breathing heavily, right in his face. Tom tried to shake his head. ‘They’ve got her now. It’s over. Just lie there and wait. Be calm. When we’re gone you can get up and get on with your life. Forget all this. You’ll hate me at first, but not when you think it through, when you see it from where I am. I’m your friend, Tom. Never forget that. It’s just that I have a family too. So you do what I tell you and we’ll all be OK. Got it? No telling tales afterwards. Just forget it all. You go yapping to your old Five-O mates and they’ll cut her fucking throat. I’m serious. Then they’ll come for you and come for Jamie. You understand? They’ll break every bone in his body. They’ll make him suffer. You have to believe me on this, mate. This is big, big shit. Bigger than me, bigger than you.’ Tom sensed him move away, then there was a jarring blow to his head. He saw a bright flash of light, felt himself starting to vomit, everything spinning again. He tried to move but his limbs were like logs. He couldn’t do anything. He lay panting and gasping, retching on his empty stomach, his ears filled with a frightening buzzing noise. He needed to get up, move, do something, but it was impossible. All he could do was lie in the dirt and let it wash over him.

  36

  He didn’t hear the cars driving away. By the time the dizzying waves of blackness stopped all he could hear was a rushing noise in his ears and his own gasping breath. No voices, no car doors, no engines, no more screams from Sara. He rolled painfully on to his back and stared at the lurching night sky, trying to control the nausea. He had to lie like that for a long time before he began to feel his heart slowing and the drunken movement of the world easing. He stared at the stars, glimpsed between indistinct masses of cloud. He wished it would rain. His mouth was dry, smeared with a bitter copper taste. He could smell smoke. He turned his head very slowly and looked back through the grass towards the hedge, but it was too dark to see anything.

  His legs could move now, so he forced himself to sit up. There was a sharp pain in his chest, low down, over his liver. It was possible there were broken ribs there. But it was the blows to his head that worried him most. Too many knocks in too few days. The world began to spin as he reached the sitting position. He waited for it to stop, taking deep breaths, expecting to be sick again, but managing not to be.

  The only real light was from the street light past the hedge. The clouds were thick above him, obscuring the moon. He kept himself steady with one hand on the ground and dug around in his trouser pocket for the mobile. It was in pieces. He brought them out and they fell into the trampled grass. The phone had been crushed. He spent some time finding and extracting the SIM card with trembling fingers, then had to lie back again and let his head recover.

  By the time he could actually stand he calculated it might be as much as an hour since they had all driven off. Or ten minutes. He wasn’t confident about his grasp of time. He walked carefully over to the hedge and stepped through, into the lay-by, feeling his way past the trees and bushes. He could still smell smoke, but there wasn’t any. He could see the road well enough, though. It was empty. He leaned against a section of fencing in front of the hedge and gritted his teeth. The pains were receding, but the anger and hurt were like fire in his bloodstream. He could feel it flushing his skin, tingling in his fingertips. Only with difficulty could he resist the urge to lash out at something inanimate – one of the trees, or the fence posts. He needed to guard the rage, keep it bottled up for the right moment. Because there was nothing here to hit. What he needed to hit was Alex.

  He started to walk, heading, he thought, back in the direction the car
had come from. After they’d left the motorway they’d driven along deserted country roads for a while, then through a village. The name had come up on the driver’s satnav, but he hadn’t paid it any attention. He thought maybe it was a mile back to the place, maybe two. He would get there, find a phone.

  As he walked the pain in his side eased. Nothing broken, he decided, though it was possible the adrenalin was drowning the pain. All he could think about was smashing his fists into Alex’s face, kicking him, stamping on him. He was past being rational about it, past weighing up risks or consequences. It was a betrayal of the worst kind. He had issued threats against Jamie, threatened to cut Sara’s throat. It left him speechless, so pumped full of fury that he didn’t care about his head, didn’t care about the other injuries.

  He had trusted Alex. All his life he had trusted him. He had thought Alex was his closest friend, thought there was an unassailable bond between them. He had chucked an entire career away because of it. He was a fucking idiot. The consequences of his stupidity were overwhelming. He had to stop and crouch in the road, letting the thoughts organise themselves, lest they swamp him with fear and confusion. There were so many angles, all sickening, that it was hard to keep his mind focused. He felt dizzy again, but now it was because of what he had done. He had let Sara down so terribly he could barely let himself think about it. He had promised not to leave her, to protect her. And then, out of gross naivety, he had delivered her straight into Alex’s hands. Alex was going to hand her over – Tom had no doubt about it – to some professional criminal group, specialists in kidnapping and extortion. That was how she was valuable. That was what Alex had meant.

  He stood and looked around. The road was pitch-black, high trees meeting right overhead. Suddenly he realised just how urgent everything was. He took a breath and started to run. The jolting movement made it feel like his head would explode. But he ignored it. Ahead, through the trees, he could see faint lights. He had to get her back and there was only one way to do that. Get to Alex and threaten him so convincingly that he gave something away. Take a stick or a metal bar to him. Whatever it took. The link between them was broken.