CAPTIVE ON THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Joy Ellis

  He looked around the room and wondered how long he would be here, wherever here was. As soon as he had been declared physically sound, he had been removed from the hospital and driven at breakneck speed to this place. It was evidently some sort of private clinic, with tasteful décor and an extremely comfortable room. He was watched around the clock by two police officers and he had seen a private security guard further down the corridor, close to the lifts. They were taking no chances. He just hoped that they were doing the same for Jessie.

  ‘How are we this evening?’ This was a new face. The man showed Graham his hospital ID. ‘My name is Doug Cramer. I’m with the psych evaluation team. Are we looking after you okay?’

  Graham nodded. ‘Very well, thank you.’

  ‘Good.’ The young man slid a finger across the screen of his tablet and nodded. ‘I see your physical health check was pretty impressive, all things considered. Blood pressure is fine and general health good, although your blood tests show some mineral and vitamin deficiencies. The food here is ace. I’d take full advantage of it if I were you. And we’ll get you some supplements.’

  ‘Well, you don’t get much in the way of fine cuisine in a rundown, stinking stable.’ He sounded bitter and angry.

  ‘Are you up to discussing the findings of your initial assessment, Graham?’

  ‘I am.’ He wasn’t actually sure, but there seemed little point in postponing it.

  Doug gave Graham an encouraging grin. ‘I’m glad to say that you did better than we had expected. But I’m guessing that some of your answers came from the psych screening for your job with the police. Am I right?’

  Graham shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. ‘The test was similar.’

  ‘You know you will have to be monitored for some time?’

  Graham nodded again. ‘And attend counselling sessions.’

  ‘That’s right. You will be introduced to the psychiatric team in your area and you will have a dedicated one-to-one counsellor.’ Doug sat back. ‘There are indications of post-traumatic stress disorder, and we are anxious to try to limit the effect that could have on your life, so I do urge you to attend your sessions regularly and take whatever help is offered to you.’

  Graham frowned. ‘Like drugs?’

  ‘Maybe, but more likely cognitive behavioural therapy. That’s widely used and very effective.’

  ‘I don’t want drugs.’

  ‘Good, but don’t try to cope with this on your own. You have a whole team of people behind you who want to help. Remember that, okay? They are going to be looking out for you and your well-being. They are on your side all the way.’ Doug glanced at the notebook. ‘This is very impressive stuff, Graham. It must have been very important to you.’

  ‘It kept me going when I believed all hope had gone. It was like keeping a fire burning through the night.’

  ‘Was it a good fire? A healing, warming one?’

  ‘No, it was burning hate. It was the hope of revenge on an evil man who hurt and killed innocent people.’

  ‘Then I think I’d call it a cleansing fire, wouldn’t you?’

  Graham thought for a moment. ‘Yes, cleansing.’

  ‘So maybe it was a healing fire after all.’

  ‘Maybe it was.’ He gazed at the pages full of careful handwriting. ‘I just know all this will help to seal his fate.’

  Doug stood up. ‘Then I’ll leave you to your records, but do get some rest and watch some TV or a movie. Don’t work all the time.’

  Graham picked up the pen. ‘I need to get this down, as soon as possible.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘If I could, I would burn it, but the police will need it. But when this book is finished, it is over and I’ll never go back there again.’

  ‘You will need to talk it out. It’s part of the healing process.’

  ‘I will heal when I am home with the woman I love.’

  ‘I wish you well, but don’t underestimate what you have been through.’ Doug paused. ‘I understand your debriefing officer is on his way.’

  Graham nodded. ‘DC Ben Radley. He’s a good guy. I trust him.’

  Doug nodded. ‘That is a help. But look, I realise there is a lot they need to know, and I know it’s very important that you tell them all you can, but don’t let anyone bully you. You are fragile, Graham. Do what you can, but don’t overdo it. Doctor’s orders.’

  ‘I’ll tell Ben you said that, shall I?’

  ‘Do, and if things get tricky, give me a shout and I’ll tell him myself.’

  Graham gave a little laugh. ‘I want to help the police, Doug. I know things about a very bad man that probably no one else does. I spent a lot of time with his old father, who had dementia, but when he was having a good day, he told a lot of stories about his son. I need to make sure that the authorities know everything.’

  ‘Okay, but remember what I told you. I’ll be around if you need back up.’

  With a cheery wave, Doug made for the door. ‘When your friend has gone, try to get some sleep and don’t work on your memoirs all night! You need plenty of rest.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nikki was almost disappointed that she had not seen Carver’s hitman on the main road, but even so she had been dogged by the uncomfortable sensation that she was being watched. The rest of the journey was uneventful, but when she finally walked into the station she was accompanied by a deep sense of dread. It was truly chilling to think that one of their number had been spying on a detective for two years. Freddie Carver, a man she had never even met, had insidiously infiltrated her police station. It had tainted the whole place. It didn’t have to be a police officer of course. Greenborough now used civilians for a large percentage of their tasks. It could be a call controller, a maintenance operative, an IT consultant, a secretary, front counter personnel, an evidence handler, ad infinitum. But it could also be a bent officer, and the thought of that sickened her.

  She walked into her office. Something moved in a corner, and Nikki almost screamed.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am. I took advantage of your futon.’ Cat sat up, stretched and pulled her jacket around her.

  ‘You should be at home in bed after all you’ve done in the last few days. You’ve earned a proper rest, not a doss on my couch.’

  ‘I wanted to know you were all safe.’ She looked around, ‘Where’s the Sarge? And Jessie?’

  ‘Joseph is with her. We ran into trouble out on the fen.’ Nikki threw herself down next to Cat. ‘Jesus! This is a mess!’

  ‘How can I help?’

  Nikki smiled at her. ‘By going home, sleeping, then getting back at dawn. I need to get a small handpicked team together to go and collect Jessie and take her to a place of safety.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’ Cat’s eyes were bright, all trace of sleep gone. ‘Shall I ring Dave?’

  ‘Do it from home. Walls have ears, it seems.’

  ‘Ah, yes. And unless my info is flawed, I’m afraid it’s the same in a couple of other stations in this area. Ben tells me that a little bird told him it was all part of Freddie’s master plan to have several sleepers on the inside, so to speak. People he could activate at will.’

  Nikki let out a low whistle. ‘He had quite some plan, didn’t he?’

  ‘But luckily he also had a rotten apple, and it infected the whole barrel before he took it out.’ Cat rubbed her hands together. ‘Oh, I must tell you before I go, Niall and Yvonne have gathered up a couple of informants who tell us they are prepared to assist us in our hunt for Freddie.’

  ‘In return for what?’

  ‘Anonymity, and a small backhander. Yvonne said she was ready to cough up her own money to get Carver. She thought it was a bloody good deal. And Niall, bless him, offered to organise a whip-round.’

  Nikki smiled. ‘He’d probably raise a fortune if everyone knew it was to get that bastard behind bars. Are those two still on duty?’

  ‘Don’t think so, ma’am. Are you thinking about them for your elite team?’r />
  ‘I am.’

  ‘I’ve got their numbers. I’ll ring them after I’ve spoken to Dave and get them to come in early.’

  ‘Excellent. Now, get off home.’

  Alone in her office, Nikki closed the door and rang the superintendent on her private mobile. Greg Woodhall, too, would be with her at dawn.

  Nikki pulled a car blanket and a pillow from beneath the futon. She couldn’t face going home, knowing that Joseph and Jessie were out on Carter’s Fen in the rundown, leaking old cottage that used to be her favourite place as a child.

  Happy to be going nowhere tonight, she went out to the CID room, where a couple of lone DCs were still working.

  ‘Anyone going out for food? If they are, it’s on me.’

  ‘Thanks, ma’am, but I’m off soon. I’m happy to go get you something though.’

  ‘Me too, ma’am. I’m done here for today.’

  ‘No, forget it. You guys get home. I’ll ring for a pizza.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Joseph hated pizza. Mind you, if she could cook like he did, she’d probably feel the same. No she wouldn’t, she loved pizza. But she had a feeling that tonight, without any of the team to share it with, it wouldn’t taste the same.

  She got herself a coffee from the machine and walked back to her office. It felt all wrong without her team gathered around her.

  ‘Ma’am?’ A uniformed WPC handed her a memo. ‘From the desk sergeant, ma’am. DC Harris asked if we could check out a man seen in the Olde White Swan earlier today.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Nikki looked at the note and then noticed a long memo from Dave sitting on her desk. She sipped her coffee and read them both. So, Dina Jarvis’s mystery boyfriend had been seen and identified here in Greenborough. And uniform, bless them, had got a name for him from the bar staff at the pub. Gibson Ash. Not one she recognised.

  Nikki logged on to her computer and entered the name, then she pursed her lips and made a little noise of surprise. ‘Oh dear! Gibson Ash, you are a naughty boy, aren’t you? And even worse, your known associates are men who work or worked for a certain Freddie Carver.’ She puffed out her cheeks and let out a long breath. ‘So, Mr Ash, what on earth did you do to Dina Jarvis?’

  Nikki began to dredge up every tiny piece of information she could find on him, then she circulated the details to all forces. As “wanted.”

  Nikki took Gibson Ash’s photo from the printer and stared at it. ‘I’ll find you, you cocky little git. Then you are going to tell me exactly what happened to that lovely girl.’

  * * *

  Ben Radley sat opposite Graham Hildred and prayed silently for guidance.

  The room was comfortable and warm with good quality furniture, and pictures on the walls. A jug of coffee and china cups sat on a tray on the table, and there were attractive biscuits and even proper brown sugar. It was certainly the perfect venue for a friendly chat. What worried Ben was the topic of conversation.

  ‘You can go ahead whenever you are ready.’ Graham’s voice was steady. ‘I won’t break or crack up and run screaming around the room, I promise. I’ve already done that, only I was in a stable at the time.’ He gave Ben a weak smile. ‘Sadly, I’m not joking. There were bad days, and the nights were even worse.’

  ‘I would say I can imagine, but I can’t. You would have to have lived through it to truly appreciate what it was like.’

  ‘The main thing is, I did live through it. I have to hang on to that. If I’m strong enough to withstand that kind of torture, I can see this through, can’t I?’

  Ben grinned at him. ‘If you got through all that, man, I’d say you can face anything.’

  ‘I hope you are right.’ Graham sat forward, ‘So. Where do we begin?’

  ‘You know what they say, “Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place . . .”’

  ‘Oh great! They’ve sent bloody Julie Andrews to do my debriefing. Just my luck!’

  ‘Okay, I promise not to sing. Shall we start? Oh, and you know I have to record this?’

  They talked for about an hour. As well as the recording, Ben made notes of issues to check out. Then Graham began to recall some of the things that Freddie Carver’s father, Rick Cavacini, had told him.

  ‘There was one day, not that long ago, when the old man was really disturbed. Janet gave him something to calm him down and I suggested that maybe we could download some old songs for him. We had no idea of what he liked, but we took a punt on some sixties stuff. For a while it worked like magic. The poor old guy started to sing along, Janet made us all some tea and he was about as relaxed as I’d seen him for months.’ Graham scratched his head. ‘I don’t know if it was the words to one of the songs, but suddenly he grabbed my hand and started telling me not to trust his son. I wanted to tell him just what I thought of his evil son, but I shut up and listened.’ Graham paused for a moment. ‘Hang on while I order some more coffee. I wish I had something stronger, but the doc isn’t keen on me keeping a bottle of Laphroaig under the bed.’

  ‘Understandable, I suppose.’ Ben switched off the recorder. He knew this wasn’t easy for Graham, and he probably needed a break. It was three or four minutes before the coffee arrived and Ben was on tenterhooks by the time Graham was ready to begin again.

  ‘I’d make a note of this if I were you, because this could just put Carver away for a very long time,’ he bit his lip, ‘or it could cost the force a fortune and produce zilch, I don’t know.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘Rick told me that his son had murdered his first wife. He said Freddie believed she was having an affair, and that was enough to have her terminated. Rick said he had really liked his daughter-in-law, he didn’t believe she had been unfaithful. He had argued with Freddie, but the idiot was seeing red mist. Rick told me that one day someone would have some work done on Freddie’s old house in Hackney in London, and find her body.’

  ‘Hell-fire! That could be the very thing that puts him in the dock — if it isn’t just a fairy story!’

  ‘I believed him. He was about as lucid as I’ve ever seen him. He even asked if I would play a game of chess with him, and he managed a good fifteen minutes of careful strategic play before the lights went out again.’

  ‘Well, that should be very straightforward to check out.’

  ‘Especially as he told me her name. It was Glynis, and he even gave me the name of the house — Sheldonhurst. Carver had owned the house for years so, yes, it shouldn’t be difficult to find.’

  ‘I suppose he didn’t tell you where she was buried?’

  Graham grinned. ‘You’d think that was too much to hope for, wouldn’t you? But that was the first thing I thought to ask. If she is there, she is under the garden room extension.’

  Ben let out a little whoop of surprise. ‘Good work!’

  ‘There is a lot of other smaller stuff, including details of telephone conversations I overheard while Freddie was visiting, but it will all be in this.’ He pointed to the notebook on the table. ‘Then it’s over to you.’ Graham sat back, exhausted. ‘Are we done?’

  ‘Yes, Graham. It’s more than enough.’ Ben switched off the recorder and put it in his jacket pocket. ‘Although I’ll come back and visit you.’

  ‘I hope I won’t need to be here too long. It’s very comfortable, but I feel as if I’ve just swapped one prison for another.’

  Ben squeezed his arm. ‘We’ll do everything we can to make it safe for you to get home where you belong, I promise you that.’

  ‘And Jessie? When can I speak to her?’

  Ben had been waiting for that question, and prayed that he wouldn’t let the true situation show. ‘Oh, you know what this red tape is like, Gray. Just as soon as we can guarantee that you are both out of harm’s way, we’ll get you back together.’

  ‘You promise that too?’

  ‘Solemnly.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to it.’ He gave Ben a sad look. ‘Things won’t ever be the same again,
I know that. I just hope I can make it work, if that’s what Jessie wants.’

  ‘I’d put good money on that being exactly what she wants, but you know what they say, take it one step at a time.’

  Ben left, hoping he hadn’t thrown Graham too many platitudes and empty promises. He had no training in victim support or post trauma situations. He had just relied on being a human being who cared.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Joseph went over the old property from top to toe. He moved around the deserted, derelict rooms with the stealth of a soldier. Of course, that is just what he had been, and he’d never lost that heightened sense of alertness to danger.

  ‘I thought it would be worse than this.’ Jessie dragged thick, matted curtains across the window. Dust billowed up around her and she coughed loudly. ‘Apart from all this mould and dust!’

  ‘I suggest we make camp here in the front room.’ Joseph looked around. ‘Upstairs is a real mess. I think the roof has blown in one place, and the tank has leaked. This isn’t too bad.’

  ‘If this place were nearer civilisation, it would have sold straightaway. It reminds me of Keel’s grandmother’s cottage.’

  ‘Probably built at the same time. It’s solid, just neglected and abandoned.’

  ‘I wish we could light a fire.’ Jessie looked longingly at the old open hearth. ‘There are even logs in the basket.’

  ‘No chance. I’m afraid it’s car blankets, and an emergency foil blanket if it gets too cold.’

  ‘At least they left a couple of old armchairs.’ Jessie prodded one suspiciously and waited to see if any mice ran out. ‘I’ll give them a good shake. They’ll be better than nothing.’