by Alan Veale
*
‘I’ll be glad when I can drive myself.’ Ed Fersen was feeling distinctly grumpy as he eased himself into the passenger seat beside Robin. ‘Feels like an age since I drove down here.’
‘Ach. Just be grateful you’re still drawing breath and enjoy the ride. We’re off to explore the countryside.’ Firing the ignition, Robin headed for the car park exit.
‘Yes, well just be careful. I don’t mind taking the scenic route, but I don’t want to end up having to pull you out of floodwater again. I haven’t got the Discovery this time!’
‘You never forget, do you? No way was that my fault. And you know how you love playing the cavalry.’
Ed pulled a face at the memory. ‘This time we’re both going to have to play rescuer. Our poor wee boy is up to his neck in it.’
‘Have you checked his phone?’
‘Yeah. Still the same. If they move him, I’ve got details of that car too, thanks to the commander. Silver Audi. Last year’s plates.’
‘Good, then you can relax for a while, I reckon. If we’re going to come across any of the bad guys, I’d say any time after the A59 would be favourite.’
*
The Glasgow train was running approximately ten minutes late, which did nothing to calm Chrissie’s nerves. She paced up and down on the platform, glancing at the screen of her phone every few seconds. Should she try and message Billie/Meredith now? Or just wait and see if he contacted her? Why had she agreed to do this? Why did Emily have such a perfect figure? That had been one helluva put down. The girl had just cast her robe aside and climbed into bed like being nude in front of a stranger was nothing. But then she’d been a porn star, hadn’t she? They were the same age, but …
Her phone was ringing. Emily’s name on the display. Shit.
‘Yes?’
‘Anything yet?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Are you on the train?’
‘No. It’s running late. Should be here… oh, hang on a sec.’ The tannoy above her head announced the immediate arrival of the Virgin train service from Glasgow Central. ‘It’s coming now! I can see it approaching the platform.’
‘I’m in position. Give me a call back when you hear something.’
*
‘We’ve got a signal again… must be back in a 4G area.’ Ed was focused on his phone while beside him Robin was peering through a rain-spattered windscreen, trying to overtake a pair of cyclists on a narrow country road.
‘Still no movement?’
‘No… wait! Yes. Yes, it’s moved… east, I think. No! West. He’s… hang on. I need to zoom in. Why am I cursed with such big fingers?’
Robin saw his opportunity on a straight stretch of road, taking note of a road sign. ‘We’re just coming into a place called Longridge. We can’t be far off now, can we?’
Ed looked up, checked the satnav image on the dash, and then his phone. ‘You’re right. Signal’s disappeared again, but I think we could come across them somewhere, so keep a lookout. Could do without this rain, though.’
Robin slowed right down as they followed their route through the village, pedestrians trying to cross the main street impeding their progress further. The satnav offered spoken advice: At the next junction, turn right onto Inglewhite Road.
With his indicator flashing as he neared a mini roundabout, Robin’s attention was caught by another vehicle approaching from his right.
‘Silver Audi. Is it… YES!’
‘And look who’s driving,’ Ed contributed, hardly able to believe their luck.
‘Is that Meredith?’
‘No, that’s the guy who put me in Salford Royal. Female front seat passenger.’
The Audi drove straight across in front of them, followed by two more vehicles, provoking an expletive from Robin as he switched his indicator and prepared to follow. ‘Isn’t this the way to Preston?’
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Ed. ‘Could be. I was trying to see if there was anyone in the back, but it’s tinted glass. Doesn’t help with all this rain and the wipers on.’
‘Are we doing the right thing by following? You’re sure it wasn’t Billie next to the driver?’
‘I am, yes! Not unless he’s into wearing a grey wig and lipstick since I last saw him. Fuck! What do we do?’
‘Check where this road is heading. Whoa! Hey, there’s our answer. See?’
They were approaching a second mini roundabout. Painted in large black letters on a wall opposite was the word PRESTON, an arrow indicating the exit now taken by the Audi. A Volkswagen SUV immediately ahead took a right, and Robin moved up to narrow the gap.
‘Now we just have to stick with him, but I’d say it’s a fair old bet he’s going to the station. Better update Emily.’
‘I will in a minute. Signal’s back again and that’s definitely our boy in front. Or his phone, at least.’ Ed kept his eyes glued to the vehicle he was now certain contained his friend. ‘Hold on, Oor Wullie. We’ve got your back.’
*
Chrissie was not surprised to find all the carriages full. The train’s final stop would be London Euston, and this was peak holiday time. If she’d wanted to co-opt a ten-year-old girl and prise her off the train at Preston, she wouldn’t have had much difficulty. Her chosen carriage at the rear of the train, designated a Quiet Zone, seemed to hold several of the species on what was presumably a school trip. Chrissie stood near the internal doors with her bottom resting against a pile of sundry luggage items, grateful that the girls in question were mostly observing the advice to keep noise to a minimum. So it was with some embarrassment that, seconds after entering the compartment, her phone began to ring.
She snatched it up to her ear at the same time as hitting the release button on the sliding doors, stepping out to join three weary passengers grouped near the toilet. The name on the display hadn’t registered. ‘Yes?’
‘Chrissie? Hi, it’s me.’
She nearly dropped the phone. ‘Billie!’
Fifty
Wednesday’s child is full of woe. When he drew back the curtains that morning and saw the heavy clouds, a phrase that had followed Billie all his life was the first thing to enter his head. The childhood mantra had been taught him by his auntie in Manchester, possibly to bolster her opinion of him being accident prone. He was almost sure today was Wednesday, but he had nothing handy with which to check. He needed to get his phone back somehow.
But today would be much better than yesterday. He felt different. The headache had subsided, the legs felt like his own, and he was hungry. He had struck a deal with Jaeger to buy himself time, and with the return of his clothes and his bag, it was a promising start. The old confidence was returning—if he could somehow persuade Meredith to let him have a minute on his phone. He found his shaving kit and set off for the bathroom.
Downstairs, Meredith had been checking both of Billie’s phones for new information. Nothing other than spam and stuff that was presumably related to his work. The daughter had sent a photo from Edinburgh yesterday. He looked up as his boss glided into view.
‘Are we clear?’
Meredith blinked. ‘I think so. We’ll be leaving in an hour. I have everything I need.’
‘Good. When are you going to tell our guest his obligations?’
‘Soon. I like what you did, by the way. Not my style, but you got a better result. Makes my job easier today.’
Jaeger inclined his head in appreciation. ‘To each his own, dear boy. When the stakes are high.’ He touched a lever and motored his way to the kitchen, calling out as he approached. ‘Oh, sister Helen, wherefore art thou?’
Meredith looked again at the image of the girl on Billie’s phone. A loose end needing attention. He pocketed both handsets and followed Jaeger into the kitchen.
*
In a control room eight miles south-west, telephone lines were heading for meltdown. Surveying the banks of flashing LEDs and complex web-like displays was the duty manager for Network Rail (Preston)
. Despite the early hour and below average temperature, he had broken into a sweat. Not that that was unusual, as most days in the job brought all manner of problems demanding urgent attention. To his certain knowledge, none of the jobs requiring his personal sign-off had ever been anything other than urgent. His problems were two-fold: allocating priority, and finding a novel way of breaking bad news. Today was right up there with the worst he could remember, mainly because the unusually heavy rain in Cheshire that August had weakened a railway embankment near Wilmslow and forced a landslip onto the tracks. He’d got two teams on it as quickly as he could, but now there was a backlog of traffic to contend with, forcing cancellations and delays south of Preston. All the world and his wife wanted to travel in the North West, and joining them today was his ultimate boss: Prime Minister Bill Leonard.
Hence the sweat was particularly bad.
‘Update please, Ted. … No? Oh, for fuck’s sake… How long? … You’d better. I’ve got Jesus Christ himself on my back today, so just get those lads to do him a bloody miracle, will you? Right.’ He slammed the phone down. ‘What the hell do you want?’
Two men he had never seen before stood only feet away, shoulder to shoulder, one readily identifiable from his uniform as an officer with the British Transport Police, the other dressed in similar fashion, but sporting a navy blue baseball cap.
‘Sergeant Neil Harris, BTP and Sergeant Peter Baddiel, Special Operations, sir,’ said the smaller of the two, while both held up warrant cards for inspection. ‘We have an urgent situation here.’
In other circumstances he might have laughed. But the sight of the holstered weapon worn by the taller man brought a more sobering perspective.
‘You want to tell me something new?’ was the best he could manage.
The armed officer made his contribution: ‘We need you to close down this station to the general public.’
*
Woe was the right word so far as Billie was concerned. He’d started the day in a confident mood but things went rapidly downhill after breakfast when he asked if he could check emails on his phone.
‘I already did,’ said Meredith. ‘Nothing of any interest.’ Billie started to protest, but was stunned into silence by what he heard next. ‘Apart from your daughter, Tina. Nice little girl. You might have been able to see her in person today, as I’d arranged a special surprise for you. Her mum was going to bring her to see you, on a train. But that was before the lies. You were doing so well, promising to help resolve this matter of a missing document and letter. Then you blew it, too many lies.’
‘I… I don’t understand. What lies?’
‘About Tina, and her mum. They’re not in Glasgow, are they? They’re in Edinburgh.’ Meredith showed Billie the image of his little girl that had been sent yesterday, with the Scott Memorial on Princes Street in the background. ‘So, Chrissie also lied yesterday when she said she’d bring her here on the Glasgow train.’
‘Chrissie? She sent a message?’ Alarm bells were making one hell of a racket in Billie’s head.
‘She also said she’d bring the document for you. And yet you told us you’d left it at the library. More lies?’
‘No! I wasn’t lying. I… could I see what Chrissie said, please?’
Meredith glanced at Jaeger, who merely raised his eyebrows a little. ‘I’ll read it to you: That’s great. We’ll be there at Preston, I promise. The document is safe but better if you can find somewhere safer. Rather you than me. See you soon. Love Chrissie. Then she put one of those smiley things. Which of you is telling little porkies about this document?’
Billie stared hard at the granite worktop under his dish, demanding answers himself. ‘When I said I left it at the library… I was confused. Still a little concussed, I suppose. I meant the one in Glasgow. Where I work. That’s why Chrissie would be bringing it from there.’
His answer seemed to satisfy Meredith and Jaeger, who gave a little nod to affirm his seniority. But Meredith still refused to hand over the phone, and later, when it became clear he and Helen were both being taken to Preston to meet the Glasgow train, Billie sensed a further increase in tension.
A car waited outside, a stranger. For some reason Helen appeared quite bright, freshly made-up, hair brushed and lipstick applied. She beamed at Billie as she put up her hood against the rain for the brief few steps to the car. ‘Isn’t this exciting?’ she said. He envied her optimism as she climbed in next to a man sporting a ponytail, Billie behind him with Meredith at his side. He’d been told to bring his bag as ‘you might not be coming back’. None of it felt right. Silence filled the journey to Preston while he looked out of the rain-cloaked window at unfamiliar countryside, and then the untidy sprawl of the city.
The station was like so many others, and yet different. Half a dozen platforms under a huge Victorian canopy, superficially spruced up by modern signage and electronic displays. They were dropped off at a side entrance and led across a footbridge to what appeared to be the central hub. Standing outside a busy refreshment area, Meredith did a peculiar thing. Pulling them both close towards him, he put his hands on their shoulders and spoke in a low, clear voice.
‘This is where you will both have to wait. In there. I have other duties to perform for a while, but if either of you try to move from here, you’ll have to face the consequences. You are both carrying a device that is under my control. Do anything I don’t want you to do, and there’ll be no tomorrow. Understand?’
They looked at each other, one horrified, the other blank and uncomprehending. Helen spoke first. ‘Can I go to the ladies toilet?’
Meredith gave her a dark look. ‘There’s one in there. Now go. I’ll be watching.’
They filed through the door, Billie desperately looking around for reassurance of some sort. The coffee bar was full of strangers. No help there. No help anywhere. Helen followed a sign for the toilet; Billie stood near the door, miserable and frightened. His knowledge of Meredith as a killer brought no illusions. Had something been attached to his clothes? Both carrying a device… What did… his jacket! Had it felt slightly heavier when he put it on? Maybe that awful threat was connected to the smell of garlic he had begun to notice on their journey. He could still smell it. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing and heart rate.
The world on the platform outside the window seemed normal, trains rumbling in and out, people scurrying around like bees in a hive. Helen joined him nearby, lost in her own little world. The screen above their heads was constantly active, mostly with updates on numerous delays or cancelled journeys—often provoking groans of disappointment from the dwindling numbers of prospective passengers. Meredith returned, his face flushed and animated. Billie instinctively braced himself.
‘Your phone. Time for you to make a call. Your ex should be on her way, but the train is running late. Call her and tell her where you’ll be. Do it now.’
Billie took the handset with shaking hands. He swallowed hard and licked dry lips as he selected Chrissie’s contact details.
Fifty-One
The streets in the immediate vicinity of the railway station were locked down. Police vehicles blocked every access point, and officers in hi-vis apparel sought to keep both vehicular and pedestrian traffic moving. With no ticket barriers to impede passengers, station staff wearing orange jackets welcomed the presence of armed police as they struggled to engage with angry new arrivals, while allowing those out who wished to leave. In the short-term car park a man with a ponytail was having an animated conversation with two others, one wearing a baseball cap.
Inside the station, the 09.40 from Liverpool Lime Street had finally arrived almost forty minutes late, its frustrated travellers spilling onto Platform 2 and milling immediately among the swell of those awaiting a connection to Blackpool North. On Platform 3, many more listened anxiously for an announcement on the fate of the 11.50 for York, now delayed by twenty-seven minutes. None seemed overly concerned by the numbers of armed police in their midst.
Commuters had grown accustomed to heightened security measures, and accepted their presence with stoic reserve.
From her elevated position, DI Emily Blake checked both her phone and her watch, echoing the habits of many more in the immediate vicinity. She felt calm enough, almost elated by the situation. An incident was going down, but she had faith in her team, or at least some of them. Fate would influence the outcome. Or a stupid mistake.
It had been a shock to see her Aunt Helen arrive with both Meredith and Billie. She’d not expected that, but understood the logic behind the action. They would need help to identify their target in a crowd. It could complicate matters, but she’d have to factor that in when the time came. Right now, Billie and Meredith had reappeared on Platform 4. She spoke into her mouthpiece. ‘I have visual on subjects A and B. Copy?’ A response in her ear: ‘Copy that.’
*
Chrissie found she was holding her breath. The conversation with Billie had been one of the weirdest (and shortest) ever. I’ll be blown away to see you again. Platform 4 outside the bar. Then he’d rung off. What the hell was that about? The slow progress of her train provided plenty of time to think it through, and her breathing gradually returned to normal.
The train had come to a halt somewhere on the edge of the city, the train manager apologising for the further delay, a signal failure at Warrington. Most passengers were so familiar with the situation that few even looked up from their magazines or electronic devices. What’s new.
