CAPTIVE ON THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Daddy Carver is probably holed up in a nursing home under another name, hence the occasional visit from his loving son,’ said Niall.

  ‘That, or he doesn’t have a father,’ added Yvonne.

  ‘Meaning that he truly was spawned by the Devil?’ Joseph asked, a small smile spreading across his face.

  ‘Meaning any father that begat Freddie would do a runner as soon as he knew what the little bastard was like.’

  Joseph smiled, grateful for the light relief. ‘Fair enough, but I still think my idea’s the correct one.’

  Yvonne raised her eyebrows. ‘Most likely, Sarge, but I haven’t got to the good bit yet. Freddie has been gathering some of his old workforce, bringing them up from London and settling them in temporary billets all over the place. Now, some of Freddie’s men, not the higher echelon of course, but some of the jobbers have had a standing bet on who can find out where he goes, without him knowing. My snout says they took the mileage off his car on his last trip, and it was 238 miles there and back. 119 miles from Greenborough could mean Derbyshire.’

  Joseph looked unconvinced. ‘It could also mean he drove to Holland Fen and took Daddy out on some scenic tea-shop drives around the waterways.’

  ‘The car comes back in a mess.’

  ‘My car gets in a mess driving to Knot Cottage if I’m following a tractor!’

  ‘Whatever, our snout reckons one of the lads is going to follow him next time.’

  ‘Risky! Freddie would stick them under ten foot of concrete if he found out.’

  ‘Very true, but who are we to stop them, especially as it’s rumoured to be happening quite soon.’

  ‘This could be just what we need. Let me know what you find out.’

  Yvonne and Niall nodded.

  ‘So, Carver’s gathering his soldiers together,’ Joseph mused. ‘But why? What is he planning?’

  Niall, too, looked serious. ‘We have eyes and ears everywhere. If anyone lets anything slip, we’ll be onto it, Sarge, and that’s a promise.’

  Joseph hurried over to Nikki’s office and filled her in on what they’d just told him.

  ‘It’s certainly worrying.’ Nikki rubbed her eyes. ‘But I’m going to worry tomorrow, not now. I’m bushed. Let’s call it a day, shall we?’

  Joseph pulled a face. ‘Tamsin is coming over this evening. More wedding stuff, I suppose. I think she’s worried about this engagement party next week.’

  ‘It’s a big thing. Some couples only get married once, you know.’ Nikki gave a little laugh.

  ‘Want to join us? I could do with a feminine take on her suggestions. Half the time I don’t even know what she’s talking about.’

  Nikki laughed again. ‘And you think I would? I know more about blood spatter patterns than wedding dresses. I’ve spent so much time either in this place chasing villains, or fighting the gender wars to get promoted, that I probably know less than you! Sorry, but I’ll take a rain check.’

  ‘There’s a homemade vegetable Korma with samosas and all the extras.’

  ‘I love weddings. What time?’

  ‘Seven, seven thirty?’

  ‘See you then. Now off you go. I’ve just got to tie up a couple of loose ends and I’ll be closing up shop.’

  * * *

  Nikki had never seen Tamsin so happy.

  When they’d first met, all she had seen was a rather bitter and confused young woman. Sometimes Tamsin’s anger came out in caustic comments and other times she spoke about her father in such negative terms that it made Nikki want to shake her. But she had mellowed. It had happened prior to meeting Niall, and getting together with him had made things even better. Niall was good for her, and she was turning Niall into a responsible young man.

  ‘You will be there for the engagement party, Nikki, won’t you? We’ve hired the function hall at the Sports Club. It’s just a drop in, drop out thing from two p.m. until ten. First drink on us and then it’s up to you. There’ll be lots of faces from the station.’

  ‘I’m sure there will, your lad is a popular guy.’ Nikki didn’t add that very few police officers would turn down the chance of a free drink. ‘So when is the big day? Have you set a date for it?’

  ‘We are thinking of this coming spring, if we can afford it.’ She glanced towards her father, who stuck his tongue out at her.

  ‘Don’t look at me! I still favour Gretna Green.’ Joseph placed a steaming serving dish in the centre of the table. ‘Dig in. There’s plenty.’

  Tonight was the first time Nikki had seen father and daughter completely at ease with each other. They laughed, joked and teased each other in the most natural and heart-warming way. Nikki felt like crying. This was all Joseph had ever wanted — to have his daughter back. Now he finally had his wish. Nikki knew she had been right about the reason for his reluctance to look at the dead girl in the potato shed. He could not bear to think of losing her again. And Nikki understood that so well. The ghost of Hannah had drifted into the room, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. How she would have loved to have seen her girl sitting at the table with them, laughing with Tamsin and making plans for the wedding of the century.

  ‘You’re quiet.’

  ‘Food, Joseph. You know how I love your food. Too good to waste time talking, I’m afraid.’ She waved a forkful of veggie samosa at him and they smiled at each other. She hadn’t fooled him, she knew that, but Tamsin laughed and agreed with her.

  Nikki turned to Tamsin. ‘So where are you two going to live when you are married?’

  ‘Good point.’ Tamsin laid her fork down and drew in a long breath. ‘Bit of a story, but here goes. Niall’s brother broke his leg, and Niall has been walking his dog for him. I was down for the weekend and went with him, and we saw this cottage.’ She nibbled on her bottom lip. ‘It needs a lot of work, and it’s well out of the way, but, oh Nikki, I just loved it.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Jacob’s Mere. It’s on the lane that winds out towards the old mill. It’s called Herondene. Niall is trying to get the price down, because of its condition, but he’s having a bit of a fight.’

  ‘It is a lovely spot, surrounded by fields,’ said Joseph, ‘but pretty remote.’

  ‘You can talk, Dad! Cloud Fen is hardly urban, is it? And you love the place.’

  ‘Touché. But I was just thinking about you being there alone when Niall is on shifts.’

  ‘I love the city, and I love my friends, but I’ve grown to love the tranquillity of the Fens more.’

  ‘I think I’m losing the battle.’

  ‘I think you are.’ Nikki sat back and stared at her empty plate. ‘Tell me to butt out if I’m being rude, but what are they asking for the cottage?’

  ‘A hundred and fifty thousand. It does have a large plot around it. Three bedrooms, a big kitchen — but as I said, it needs work. A lot of work.’

  ‘If that’s the case, they are taking the proverbial. Who is dealing with it?’

  ‘Arden and Collett, the estate agent in the square.’

  ‘Ah. Geoff Arden isn’t a bad bloke, actually. I went to school with him.’ Nikki rubbed her hands together. ‘Maybe it’s time I renewed our acquaintance. One hundred and fifty for a dump in the back of beyond! Joke! I’ll see if I can make him see things a little more realistically, shall I?’

  Tamsin’s face lit up. ‘Would you?’

  ‘It’s what she does best, Tam, terrorising innocent estate agents.’

  ‘There’s no such thing as an innocent estate agent.’

  ‘Note she didn’t deny the other part.’ Joseph stage-whispered to his daughter.

  When Nikki was alone in Cloud Cottage Farm she thought again about Lilli, Fern and Sophie. Lovely girls like Tamsin, but their futures had been taken away, or were deeply scarred. This might be a beautiful world, but there were some evil souls residing in it.

  * * *

  Her mother came to her almost every night now. It was a relief to have someone to talk to. He was rarely home,
and when he was, he was more preoccupied than ever. His mind was definitely on other things besides her and her well-being.

  She shivered and drew the old duvet tighter around her. A rasping cough tore at her raw and tender throat. A few days ago she had made a terrible mistake and now she was paying for it. The day had been bright and as he was at home for a while, she mentioned that it might do her good to go outside again. He had scowled at her, thrown the book he was reading to the floor, and practically frog-marched her out to the garden seat.

  This time there were no cushions, and the wood hurt her back. After a while she had been so uncomfortable that she had called for him to get her back inside. He had not heard her. She had cried out in pain and exasperation for over an hour. Then the sky had clouded over and heavy spots of rain had begun to fall. It was nightfall when he remembered her.

  Another cough sent a bolt of pain through her chest. He had been distraught when he realised, and had changed her wet clothes and towelled her shaking body. He had made her hot drinks and put her to bed with an old hot water bottle and an extra blanket. But the next day he was off out, not returning until late in the evening.

  She turned on her side. At least this chill had helped her in one way. She had lost her appetite, which was a good thing, as her meals were getting fewer and further apart.

  From her bed she looked out through the window, across the wild overgrown landscape. The sky tonight was overcast and cloudy. No moon, no stars. She smiled in the darkness. Things weren’t all bad. Apart from her mother’s visits, she’d had one amazing piece of luck. Earlier that afternoon, weak from hunger and coughing violently, she had fallen on her way to the toilet. In doing so she had hit her hip hard on the corner of the heavy oak dressing chest. As she lay on the floor, gasping for breath and wracked with pain, she had heard a clattering noise and had seen the glint of something metallic lying just beneath the chest. When the hurt had passed a little, she had crawled, inching her bony body across the filthy floor, until she could reach whatever it was that had fallen down.

  She smiled again. It was an old knife. Maybe it had once been a wartime bayonet kept as a memento and used as a paperknife. It must have been caught up at the back of one of the heavy wooden drawers for years. Her fall had freed it, and now it was hers and she would make sure he didn’t find it. Not that he cleaned her room anymore.

  It had taken her the rest of the afternoon to get up from the floor and hide her trophy. But it had been worth it. She now had choices, and even although her mother kept telling her to hold on, to be brave, that she would go home again soon, she knew now that she would be the one to decide when she left this place for good.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ben Radley rubbed his eyes. They were sore as hell and felt like someone had thrown a handful of sand into them. After a late night, he had left Greenborough just before six in the morning, and then gone straight out with his colleagues, trudging over miles of ground, hunting for those two special trees that would lead them to Fern and Lilli’s killers.

  It would help if they knew what they were bloody looking for, he thought to himself. Botanical identification did not come easy to a bunch of flatfoots. The magnolia was easiest, even most of his dumb mates knew a magnolia, although it was too late in the year for the tell-tale white or pink flowers, but a tulip tree? No chance.

  He sat at his desk and looked around the office. Perhaps he should go back out there, but they had a full complement battering their way through parks, gardens, woods and fields. He was more use here. He could feel that they were close, and when he looked again at the note from Nikki Galena in Greenborough, he felt they were almost there. This guy, Freddie Carver, seemed like just the type to have animals working for him, the kind of animals that were capable of abusing kids like Fern, Lilli and Sophie. Cat had said she’d let him know if Freddie’s last trip had really been to Derbyshire. Meantime, he’d do a bit of checking up on this unpleasant piece of shit himself. He switched on his computer and logged in.

  As he tried to decide how best to get the information he wanted, he found his mind wandering to the other night in the hospital. He had felt . . . well, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt. Untangled was the word that came to him. His chaotic, twisted thoughts had miraculously unravelled themselves as he sat in the hospital with Cat and Sophie. And now he wasn’t sure if it was because they were finally upping the ante on Fern’s case, or being with Cat Cullen.

  There was no doubt that he liked her. He would have dearly loved to work with her as his partner. They had gelled from the word go. And she seemed totally at ease in his company. But maybe Cat was like that with everyone. He sighed. She was very easy to talk to, and she had opened up to him as they passed the midnight hour, told him about what happened to her and how she was injured. Poor Cat! It was remarkable that she had stayed in the job, let alone remaining so capable and on top of things. He straightened his back. There would be time to think about this later, when they had caught Fern’s killer.

  * * *

  He sat on the edge of his bed in his stable home, and stared at the stone floor. He had seen the police himself now, out at a big house up on the main road to Buxton.

  It looked as though they were moving their search away from his area. He chewed at the inside of his cheek. He could not rest, though, dare not assume that it was safe. They might have some kind of plan, maybe they were covering certain areas at certain times, and they could easily circle back. No, he could not afford to relax yet. Not that he ever did. He stood up and stretched. He had sat there all night, frightened because he had heard a car draw up just before midnight. Now, tired as he was, he should get ready for work. The thought disgusted him, but there was nothing new about that.

  In his kitchenette, he put a slice of anaemic white bread into the toaster. He could never eat much before going out, but he had to have something to keep his strength up. He never knew when he might need it next. He rolled up his sleeve and stared at the long, dark welts on his forearm. The scratches were deep, but they were healing, thank God. He had poured neat antiseptic over them, fearful they would become infected after the long nails had gouged furiously into his flesh.

  He winced, rolled down his sleeve, and threw a tea bag into his mug. He had another ten minutes yet. He’d do what he always did before going to work, have a cup of tea and think of better times, times past.

  * * *

  Nikki was on her second coffee when Joseph knocked on the door.

  ‘Can I run something past you?’

  ‘Sure, come in and sit down.’

  ‘I could be going off at a tangent here, but a whole load of seemingly separate occurrences are obscuring the picture.’

  ‘Are we talking about the picture of Fat Freddie?’

  Joseph ran a hand slowly through his hair. ‘I think so. It concerns missing girls, the ones we had down as Mispers and runaways. Jessie gave me some photos and their details, and I could be wrong, but from their age and general appearance, I don’t think they just ran away. I think they could have been taken for use in the sex trade. Like Sophie, they were fed some story about getting big money to dance in clubs, or being a model, you know the kind of lies these men dish out, then they get taken to some sleazy dive miles away and used and abused. We know he was involved in that racket when he was in London.’

  ‘But Sophie was an illegal. These kids are local. He couldn’t hold the threat of deportation over them. Why would they not just run away and come home?’ Nikki stared at the pictures that Joseph had laid on the desk.

  ‘Shame? Guilt? Threats against their families?’

  ‘Mmm, could be. And you think Carver is behind it? Surely he was down his Iberian rat-hole while this was going on?’

  Joseph nodded. ‘He was, but Yvonne and Niall’s informants say that all the time he was away, he was planning his comeback. He had his organisation ticking over in Britain while he was in exile.’

  ‘And now he’s home. Oh, great!’ Nikki put her head in h
er hands. ‘But why here?’

  ‘Our foot soldiers are working on that as we speak.’ Joseph picked up one of the photos. ‘Would you mind if I go and talk to Dominic Jarvis? His sister is one of the girls on Jessie’s list. She’s similar to Lilli but strangely, I think something different happened to her, and I’d like to check out her home.’

  Nikki looked interested. ‘Want me to come?’

  ‘No offence, but I seem to have made something of an impression on him. If it’s alright with you, I’ll go alone and informally this time, and if I think it needs an official visit, I’ll tell you.’

  Nikki would rather Joseph had concentrated on something other than missing young women, but he seemed quite fired up about this Jarvis girl. ‘Okay, but why do you think she is different to the others?’

  ‘I’ve read Gill Mercer’s files. It was not a full investigation because the super thought she was just a missing person. No vulnerability and not our business, but Gill felt sorry for Dina’s twin brother, Dominic, and delved as far as she dare.’

  ‘And what have you sifted from the ashes?’

  ‘I talked to a couple of her old friends and some workmates, and I’ve formed an as yet unsubstantiated theory.’

  His eyes were bright, and Nikki thought of a hound dog on the scent.

  ‘Dominic swears she was abducted, and I think he’s kind of right, after a fashion.’

  ‘Don’t talk in riddles, Joseph! Get to the point and tell me what you think.’

  ‘I think she did meet someone. After all, Niall saw them together, and I’m certain she thought he was the love of her life. I’m pretty sure she either ran off with him, or maybe chased after him if he left Greenborough. I really need to know who that man was.’

  Nikki nodded. ‘And what happened to Dina. Then you go and chat with Dominic, but don’t tell him of your suspicions. Gill told me he’s volatile.’

  ‘He certainly is. And don’t worry, I’ll be more than diplomatic.’

  As Joseph left the office, Nikki wondered why they had been chosen to host the next episode of the Carver Saga. With a grunt of disgust at his choice of location, she picked up the phone and dialled a number that she’d scribbled on her memo pad.