No Way Home

by Jack Slater

  As he drove out of the hospital, he keyed the hands-free system and called the squad room.

  ‘DC Miles, Exeter CID.’

  ‘Dave, it’s Pete. I need you to dig up everything you can on a Dr Brian Letterman for me.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Someone who works with children and might not be fit to do so.’

  ‘OK…’ Dave said slowly.

  In the background, a phone was ringing. Then it stopped and he thought he heard Jane’s voice.

  ‘I want anything and everything, down to neighbour disputes and parking tickets. The works.’

  ‘Right. What’s he done, specifically?’

  ‘Most recently – pissed me off. Big-time.’

  ‘Eh? Hold on, boss.’ He muffled the mouthpiece for a moment, then was back. ‘Jane wants to speak to you.’

  ‘Boss?’

  Dave must have passed her the handset.

  ‘What’s up, Jane?’

  ‘Tanya Cunliffe. She’s been spotted.’

  ‘Excellent. Where?’

  ‘Budleigh Salterton. The Beaches Hotel.’

  ‘Right. I’ll pick you up out back in two minutes.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jane was standing outside the back door when he pulled into the car park behind the station. She stepped forward as he swung the car around and climbed in when he got back to her.

  ‘Your meeting didn’t go to plan then,’ she said as she pulled her seatbelt across and he started back down the side of the station.

  ‘You could say that. The arsehole can’t handle the boy, so he wants rid of him before he sullies his reputation. Well, it’s too late for that, I can tell you. Time Louise gets through with him, he won’t have enough reputation left to get a job as a dustman. Did Dave find anything on him?’

  It had to be Dave she’d got the information from.

  ‘No. He’s as squeaky-clean as you’d expect, working in a place like that.’

  Pete grunted. ‘Give him a call, get him to talk to any staff members from Archways who aren’t currently on duty, see what they have to say about Letterman. And get Ben to find as many former residents of the place as he can. From within the last twelve months, ideally, but go back two years if need be. We’ll talk to them too.’

  ‘You really want to stir that much shit, boss?’

  Pete kept his eyes on the road. ‘That and more, Jane.’

  There was one more source of information he could try when they finished with the task they were on now. When Jane got off the phone, he would call Headquarters and arrange a conversation with Dr Abigail White, the police psychologist who he had been required to see when he came back to work last year, after his extended absence because of Tommy’s disappearance.

  And round and round we go, he thought. It was weird how things sometimes seemed to go in circles. ‘So, how was our girl spotted?’

  ‘The hotel receptionist was watching the news this evening, saw her picture on there and remembered booking her in yesterday. Called us straight away. Well, called the local sergeant, at least, who passed it on to us. He’s keeping the place under surveillance until we get there.’

  *

  Budleigh Salterton was a small, picturesque town a few miles up the coast from Exmouth and twelve miles from Exeter. It had a long shingle beach with beach huts and fishing boats, a narrow High Street with individual and independent shops rather than the usual chain stores, and a mix of old and ancient houses sprawling up the hills behind and to either side of the bay it was nestled in.

  The hotel where Tanya Cunliffe had been spotted was at the end of the main street, where it opened out to overlook the beach. A large old converted house, painted pastel yellow, it stood between the road and the beach.

  Pete drove past it and pulled over where space allowed at the edge of the shingle. A uniformed police sergeant was standing in front of the place as they walked back. In his fifties, Pete guessed, he was stocky and weathered-looking with a scar on his right cheek that ran down to his jaw.

  Pete showed him his warrant card and held out a hand. ‘Pete Gayle, Exeter CID. This is DS Bennett.’

  The man nodded and they shook. His grip was firm and dry, the skin hard and work-worn. ‘Sid Paxton. She’s registered in room six. Don’t know if she’s up there now but she’s not answering the phone.’ He tipped his head. ‘If not, though, she hasn’t left her key at the desk. I’ve told the lads to keep an eye out for her, in case she’s out and about somewhere.’

  ‘Right. We’ll go and give her a knock then.’

  They went inside. Pete showed his badge to the receptionist as they passed, heading for the carpeted stairs beyond her desk. Signs at the top of the stairs showed rooms one to three to the left and four to six to the right. They turned along a corridor with a tall window at the far end. Room six was on the left, just before that window.

  Pete knocked on the door and they listened intently.

  Nothing.

  They waited, heads close to the thin wooden panel. The silence stretched on until he tried again, louder this time. Still there was no response.

  Jane stepped back. ‘It’s not like we need a warrant, being a hotel. Shall I go and ask for the key?’

  Pete nodded and watched her walk away, her long, dark-green coat swirling around her legs, short ginger hair gleaming in the light from the window behind him. She flicked it back with a twist of her head as she turned into the stairway and went from sight.

  Moments later she was back, heading towards him with a key held high in her hand, dangling the large fob with its imprinted room number. ‘Anything?’

  Pete shook his head and stood back as she inserted the key and turned it, pushing the door with her free hand.

  The room was stylish, clean and bright, the walls beige up to the picture rail and white above to blend with the ceiling. Long, gold-coloured curtains framed both the side-aspect window and the French doors that led out onto a balcony that was just big enough for two chairs and a tiny table. The French doors stood ajar, admitting the cool sea air and the sounds of seagulls and surf.

  There was no one.

  Pete stepped forward, heading for the door to the en suite. As he passed the dressing table with its small kettle and tea-making tray, his radio blurted, ‘DS Gayle. Sergeant Paxton for DS Gayle. Come in.’

  He took the radio, which looked like an old-fashioned mobile phone, from his pocket and pressed the Transmit button. ‘We are in. What’s up, Sid?’

  ‘She’s been spotted. I just got a call from the station. A member of the public recognised her. She’s halfway up the cliff path, t’other side of town.’

  ‘We’re on the way.’ Pete glanced at Jane and they headed quickly out of the room, Jane locking it behind them.

  As they passed the front desk, she set the key on it. ‘Thanks. Keep it locked, would you? And the cleaner out of it.’

  ‘Why?’

  They were almost at the front door. As he reached out to push it open, Pete called back over his shoulder: ‘Crime scene.’

  ‘Oh my God! Really?’

  But the door was closing behind them by then. Pete nodded to Sid Paxton. ‘We’ll take my car. Is there room to drive up there?’ As close as it was to Exeter, he’d never been to the little town before.

  The sergeant grimaced as he stepped forward and they headed for the car. ‘No way. Too narrow with the old wall sticking out in places. If you go out on the Exmouth Road, though, then turn down Cliff Road, we might be able to get ahead of her. If not, we’ll gain a good bit.’

  ‘OK.’ Pete unlocked the silver Ford and they climbed in, Jane taking the back seat so that the local man could provide directions. Pete turned the car around in the narrow street. ‘Did the caller say exactly where they saw her or which way she was going?’

  ‘They said she’s walking up there, so, presumably, that means away from town, up towards the clifftop. Didn’t say exactly how far she’d got, though. I did ask.’

  With th
e car finally facing back into town, Pete flicked on the blue lights and gave the siren a quick ‘whoop’ as he started as quickly as safety would allow along the narrow, shaded street.

  As soon as the road opened out, he switched on the siren and sped up. ‘Direct me, will you? I don’t know this place.’

  ‘Straight through and up the High Street. There’s an estate agent’s on the left, then a junction and a pub. We turn left there. It’s a wide entrance to a narrow road. I’ll point it out. There’s bollards at the top so we’re on foot from there.’

  ‘Can you get onto your station then? See if they’ve got the caller’s number so we can get them back and get a better idea of where she is?’

  Paxton’s big hand went to the radio clipped to his upper chest. He pressed the button. ‘Mary, this is Sid. Have you got a number for that caller on the Exeter girl?’

  ‘No, Sarge. It was a mobile and it was blocked.’

  ‘Bugger. Why are things never as bloody easy as they ought to be, eh?’ he asked, hand dropping back to his lap.

  Pete’s mind went back to the Archways Secure Children’s Home but hadn’t formed the thought into words when Jane spoke.

  ‘It’s not like our girl to be this easy to spot. All the effort she went to the other night, and now this?’

  ‘Here you go,’ Paxton said. ‘Left up here.’

  Pete glanced in the mirror as he flicked on the indicator. ‘We’re out of the city. Maybe she doesn’t think she needs to hide,’ he suggested.

  ‘No. Something isn’t right.’

  Paxton was right: the road narrowed down considerably a short way up, becoming almost single-track. Pete killed the siren. Then he had another thought. He glanced sideways at the man in the passenger seat. ‘Was the caller male or female?’

  Paxton looked back at him. The look on his face told Pete that he’d cottoned on immediately. ‘That’s bold. If it was…’ He reached for his radio again. ‘Mary? Was the caller male or female?’

  ‘Female, Sarge.’

  ‘Received.’ He looked at Pete again. ‘You reckon we’ve been had?’

  Pete slowed through a narrow section then passed a side road. Two blocks of modern-looking flats stood on the right, a short way beyond, and he could see black bollards across the road in front of him, a stone wall beyond them with shrubs growing up behind it.

  ‘We’ll soon find out, I suppose.’ He pulled up at the side of the road and they stepped out of the car, heading up between the bollards. ‘At least, I hope so.’

  Jane looked left and right, up and down the steeply inclined pathway. ‘What do you reckon, boss?’

  Pete pursed his lips, looking at Paxton. The man was a long way from fit and not far from retirement. Pete didn’t want him having a heart attack, especially if this turned out to be a wild goose chase. ‘How about you go downhill, we’ll go up?’

  ‘Suits me.’

  Thought it might. ‘Come on then.’ He tipped his head at Jane.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Pete rounded a bend in the path and stopped, panting as he peered ahead, left hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun, which was coming around to reflect back off the sea in a wide swathe of sparkling silver.

  There weren’t many people this far up the steep cliff path. Not far ahead, the buildings of Budleigh Salterton petered out, giving way to rough grass and bushes – mostly gorse, from the look of them. But near the top, a lone figure walked slowly up the hill as Jane stopped beside him, hands on her knees, breath sawing in and out of her lungs.

  At this distance, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see a hint of colour in the long hair of the figure up ahead. ‘What do you reckon?’ he gasped.

  ‘I reckon I’m knackered. Any chance of a piggyback?’

  He raised an arm to point. ‘Up ahead. Has she got red hair?’

  ‘Huh?’ She straightened up with an effort and squinted, raising a hand as Pete had done. ‘Not sure. Need to be closer.’

  Pete swallowed. ‘Don’t let me stop you, Detective Constable.’

  Jane grunted. ‘Funny how you bring up my rank when you want me to do something you know I won’t like.’

  ‘Go on. You’re younger than me,’ he grunted, starting forward again himself.

  ‘Yes, boss. Certainly, boss. Whatever you say, boss.’ Her hoarse voice matched the rhythm of her reluctantly moving feet.

  ‘If you can waste breath on talking, you can use it to move faster.’

  Pete’s radio crackled before she could reply. He took it out and heard Sid Paxton saying, ‘…for DS Gayle. She’s not on the downhill leg. You got anything?’

  Pete pressed the Transmit button and raised the radio slightly. ‘Maybe. Not sure yet. We’re too far off. Send someone back to the hotel, in the meantime, just in case.’

  ‘Already done.’

  ‘OK. We’ll keep you informed.’

  ‘Roger.’

  Jane was ten yards ahead of him as he dropped the radio back into his pocket. He pushed on, trying to catch up with her, but she seemed to get her second wind and forged steadfastly ahead, almost at the top of the path now.

  Beyond her, he saw the more distant figure step over to the left, towards the tightly packed shrubbery at the top of the high, red cliffs that he knew fell almost straight down to the beach, far below, at the western end of the town.

  Jane stopped, hesitated for just an instant, then turned back to face him. ‘I reckon it’s her,’ she said. ‘But what’s she…?’ A frown furrowed her brow. ‘Do you think she’s…?’

  Pete nodded. ‘Accounts for why she didn’t worry about being seen.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jane hurried forward, re-energised by a sense of urgency that Pete shared.

  Ahead, the young woman had gone from sight among the more than head-high bushes that were sprinkled with bright-yellow flowers. Reaching where she’d disappeared, they saw a wide path going into the shrubbery from the back of a triangular opening that had been invisible from further back.

  They ran on, Jane still out in front. The path narrowed, twisting between the thorny bushes, their target still out of sight.

  ‘Tanya,’ Jane called. ‘Tanya?’

  No answer.

  In among the high, dense bushes, there was barely any sound from the breeze, but Pete wasn’t sure he’d hear a response anyway, over his own hoarse breathing and pounding heart.

  ‘Tanya. That is you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Leave me alone.’ The shout sounded clearly, from closer than Pete had expected, for some reason. ‘I just need some peace.’

  ‘Tanya, come back!’

  Pete stepped around yet another twist in the path and stopped on the edge of an area of grass that was around thirty feet wide by ten to fifteen deep, bordered by dense gorse on all sides except the far one, where it dropped abruptly away into nothingness. He was about a third of the way along from the left, eastern end. Tanya Cunliffe was standing at the far western end, just inches from the drop-off at the front of the little arena.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Jane was just a step in front of him, partially shielding him from Tanya’s view. ‘You can’t… What about your mum and dad? Your auntie? They’d be devastated.’

  Pete saw a frown darken her expression. ‘Who are you? How do you…? You’re police,’ she realised. ‘You must be.’ She started to turn away, towards the cliff edge.

  ‘Yes,’ Jane said quickly. ‘You’re right. But that doesn’t affect the impact this would have on your family. The people you love. I know you were with your mum and dad only a couple of days ago. You don’t want to put them through something like this.’

  ‘It’d be better than putting them through a trial,’ she argued. ‘Making them sit there and listen to me being called a murderer. Going through all the sordid details of what I did and why.’

  ‘Why, would the reason be so terrible for them to learn?’ Jane asked, Pete staying quiet and unobtrusive behind her. ‘Surely it must have been valid, or you wouldn’t be
here.’

  ‘Of course it was valid,’ she snapped. ‘I was raped. I was fifteen. I’d gone out into the city. My dad had insisted I get a cab home, to make sure I was safe, and the bloody driver attacked me! How’s that going to make him feel, eh? Knowing he put me in harm’s way.’

  ‘Yes, but not deliberately. He was trying to look out for you.’

  ‘And how’s that going to help the way he feels when he finds out?’

  ‘But… you were fifteen. You were doing as you were told. And anyway, if that’s the reason, why wait until now to…? That’s what – twelve years ago? What suddenly made you start now?’

  ‘Dumb luck,’ she said. ‘I saw what that bastard did to Emma. At least, the aftermath. I was going up to her flat, to return a DVD I’d borrowed. I saw her get into the cab, down by the Old Mill, but I was too far away to get her attention so I followed. I got held up by some of your lot, halfway along the back lane, trying to arrest a couple of guys. By the time I got past and saw the taxi parked up on the grass, she was just running for the trees on the far side, so…’ She shrugged. ‘…I made sure he didn’t go after her.’

  ‘And we’ve got forensics that support all that,’ Jane said. ‘So good luck to you, I say. But what about the other two, after that? What did they do?’

  Tanya seemed to slump. Her head dropped forward, her shoulders dipped. She said nothing for what seemed like a long time until, finally, she looked up, her eyes haunted. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a tiny voice.

  ‘For what?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Mr Randrashan. I’m…’ She shook her head. ‘So sorry.’

  ‘Why? Was it a mistake of some sort?’

  Well done, Pete thought. Keep her talking. Calm her down. She’ll step back in a bit.

  Tanya held Jane’s gaze. ‘He… the things he said. I thought he was going to attack me. After Emma and then that other one molesting me a couple of days later, I…’ Her voice choked off. She swallowed and paused, gathering herself. ‘I didn’t know about his daughter until I saw it in the paper at Mum and Dad’s at the weekend.’

  Hardeep Randrashan’s daughter had been raped at the age of fourteen, Pete knew from the background checks they’d done on him after he was found.