Snatched

by Gillian Jackson

  If this will ever be over. Thinking of home made Danny sad and he longed for a hot bath and to brush his teeth. He felt filthy.

  Lewis scrambled to his feet, saying that he asked too many questions, which he probably did, but Danny had never met anyone quite like this boy and he was curious.

  When Lewis was back downstairs, Danny tried to think rationally about an escape, with or without his friend’s help. After almost two hours, his brain hurt and he couldn’t think of any other plan. He was also thirsty again and his head ached.

  Lewis had bolted the door when he left and strangely enough it almost felt like a comfort. If he was bolted in, the chances of Pete and Dave coming in seemed somehow less likely, which he knew was ridiculous. He also knew that the men didn’t want to be seen by him which was a good sign, a sign that maybe they did intend to let him go.

  Time seemed to be passing slowly and Danny would have welcomed Lewis’s company again, but it appeared that he was staying with his mother for the time being. This was the third day since Danny had been kidnapped and he was beginning to worry, thinking it strange that nothing had happened. How long, he thought, would it take for Pete and Dave to contact his parents, make their demands and release him when they got the money? What was taking so long? He was certain that his parents would surely pay them straight away, so why had he not been released?

  The noise of the van arriving outside gave Danny something else to focus upon as a cold fear once again gripped him and he felt as if there was a huge, throbbing lump in his chest. The front door banged and he heard angry voices, yet couldn’t distinguish what was being said.

  Very soon footsteps sounded on the stairs — more than one person’s, which was really worrying. At the sound of the bolts being pulled back, Danny was on the verge of tears, but Lewis came into the room and closed the door so the man who was behind him couldn’t be seen. Lewis put his fingers to his lips, warning Danny not to speak and then he barked instructions in an exaggerated, hard voice.

  ‘Put this over your head and don’t try to take it off or you’ll be sorry!’

  Danny understood and pulled the hood over his head. It smelled of grease and rubber, just like the inside of the van. He wondered if he was going to be taken back in the van, to go home perhaps. When he was unable to see, he heard Lewis open the door and a man entered.

  ‘Right, kid, I’m going to let you speak to your parents, but don’t take the hood off and only tell them you’re okay. If you try to be clever, you’ll regret it!’

  The next thing Danny knew, a mobile phone was being pushed under the hood, against his ear and he heard his father’s voice calling his name on the other end of the line.

  ‘Dad, Mum, they said I have to tell you I’m okay, but...’

  The phone was roughly pulled away from his ear and Danny sobbed. He’d spoken to his father and the distance between them seemed almost impossible to breach, leaving him feeling completely desolate and more depressed than ever. At that point in time he began to believe that he would never see his parents again.

  The door closed and the bolts engaged. When he was sure there was no one in the room with him, Danny removed the hood and threw it in the corner. He then sat on the mattress and gave way to the tears, no longer able to feel in the least bit brave. His parents knew he was still alive now, so did this mean that his ordeal was nearly over? Had his mum and dad made a deal with the kidnappers and if so, when would they let him go? His hope was fading and unconsciously he changed the question in his mind from ‘when’ to ‘if’.

  For what seemed like hours Danny listened to the noises from below. He longed for the men to leave, hopefully to collect the ransom money, but also so Lewis could come back and tell him what was going on. The boy did come eventually, but his face held no sign of hope. Lewis had obviously been crying and as he moved to sit on the mattress, he seemed reluctant to look Danny in the eyes.

  ‘Tomorrow’s the day they’re getting the money.’ Lewis eventually spoke.

  ‘So they’ll take me home?’ Danny looked expectantly at the other boy who just shrugged. ‘If they get the money they’ll let me go, won’t they?’

  Another shrug was the discouraging response.

  ‘Lewis, you’re scaring me now! What is it? What do you know about tomorrow?’

  ‘You’ve gotta stay here until they get the money. Mum and I have to watch you until they come back.’

  ‘But will they let me go then?’ Danny was close to tears again as fear washed over him and his body trembled involuntarily. In a strange act of comfort Lewis put his arm around his shoulders and held him while he cried. Danny thought Lewis cried a little too, but after a long minute they each sniffed and made an attempt to pull themselves together.

  ‘Have they both gone?’ he asked, and when Lewis confirmed as much with a brief nod, Danny asked, ‘Can I go and talk to your mum again?’

  Lewis stood and made to go downstairs, so Danny followed. His mother was obviously annoyed that her son was once again allowing the captive downstairs and she shot Lewis an angry look.

  ‘Dan wants to talk to you. Please, Mum, just listen?’

  Lewis’s mum wasn’t an unattractive woman, Danny thought, but would look much better if she did something with her hair and perhaps wore a little make-up like his mother did. This woman’s clothes were worn and shabby and needed a good wash, as did Lewis’s, signs that the two of them lived such a vastly different life to Danny’s own.

  ‘I know you’re scared of Pete,’ Danny began, ‘but if you let me go, you and Lewis can come with me. My parents will pay you well and you’ll be able to go away somewhere to make a new start. Please, let me go!’

  Lewis looked expectantly at his mother while she thought it over, chewing on a fingernail, her face set in a deep frown.

  ‘Yeah and the police will let me off with just a slap on the wrist? No way! Pete says I’m as involved as he is and so is Lewis.’

  ‘But I’ll tell them you didn’t do anything and that you were both prisoners here too! It’s true if you can’t get out — if you don’t have a key you’re as trapped as I am!’

  She glanced at her son, as if seeking advice; her eyes wouldn’t meet Danny’s gaze.

  ‘Do you have a key, Mum? Can we get out if we want to?’ Lewis asked.

  His mother said nothing, silently considering the options. She moved over to the window but there was nothing except darkness. ‘Best if we don’t let him go. Pete’ll find us if we cross him and then heaven help us! It’ll be all over tomorrow so just go back upstairs ... and Lewis, bolt the door.’

  Once back upstairs, Lewis entered the room with Danny.

  ‘Tell yer what, I’ve got a pack of cards in me pocket — wanna play poker?’

  ‘I don’t know how, I’ve never played poker before.’

  ‘You’re kidding! It’s about time you learned then.’ As Lewis shuffled the cards, (and rather expertly too, Danny thought) he began to outline the rules. ‘It’s all about what’s in your hand. You could have a straight flush, a full house, four of a kind...’

  Lewis droned on about poker, but Danny couldn’t concentrate. How could they play cards, especially a game which sounded so complicated, when they might both die tomorrow?

  ‘I don’t think I want to play cards,’ Danny admitted. ‘I can’t think straight anymore.’

  ‘What d’you wanna do then?’ Lewis asked.

  Danny just shook his head as a fat tear rolled down his cheek.

  Both boys were silent until Lewis spoke again.

  ‘Do you want me to go downstairs?’

  ‘No, stay please. I’m scared, Lewis, what if my parents haven’t got the money, or if something goes wrong when they hand it over to Pete?’

  ‘Nothing’ll go wrong — don’t be so soppy. You’ll go back to your rich parents and I’ll have a bit of cash ... for a while anyway.’ Lewis’s words were of no comfort to Danny and there was little conviction in his ton
e.

  ‘Could you just forget to bolt the door when you go out, so that I can at least try to escape myself?’ Danny ventured to ask.

  ‘But the downstairs doors are locked too, remember? If Mum has a key, she’s not letting on and can you imagine what Pete would do if he found you’d got away?’

  ‘Sorry, you’re right. The best way’s still to convince your mum to come with us. Could you have another go at persuading her, she seems to listen to what you say?’

  ‘I’ll try again, but she’s really scared of Pete. He’s knocked her about so many times...’

  ‘Then isn’t this a chance to escape from him? Please, Lewis, try again.’

  With a sigh, Lewis went back downstairs to talk to his mother. Danny expected to hear the bolts slide into place, but there was nothing. Had Lewis forgotten, or was he doing as Danny had asked?

  Chapter 9

  Martha was in the en suite of their bedroom, splashing water on her face in an attempt to pull herself together, when Richard came upstairs.

  ‘Come down, Martha,’ Richard said. ‘DI Radford says the kidnappers will probably call again soon to let us speak to Danny. You don’t want to miss hearing him, do you?’ He didn’t say ‘possibly for the last time’ but Martha heard the unspoken words anyway. She followed him downstairs and accepted more coffee as they sat with the two detectives, ready to answer another barrage of questions.

  ‘Did you come up with any names for us — anyone who might hold a grudge?’ DS Best asked them.

  Martha answered first. ‘I’m dealing with new clients every week, but I can’t imagine anyone in the corporate world who would do something like this,’ she said.

  Richard also shook his head.

  ‘What about your pro bono work in London?’ Martha looked hopefully at him, willing him to think of something. ‘Don’t you occasionally take on criminal cases?’

  ‘Absolutely not; I work mostly in an advisory capacity there. It’s the lawyers who come into contact with the clients.’ He seemed annoyed that Martha mentioned this and the detectives picked up on it.

  ‘Surely you attend court for that kind of work?’ DS Best asked.

  ‘Only very occasionally and certainly not recently,’ Richard replied.

  ‘Perhaps you could give us a list of some of the cases you’ve been involved in, both here in Bristol and in London?’ DI Radford suggested.

  ‘I’ll get in touch with the clerk of chambers and get him to compile a list for you,’ Richard offered begrudgingly.

  ‘Thank you — that will be very helpful.’ Radford smiled.

  The telephone rang again and all eyes swivelled towards it.

  Martha gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Richard looked at Radford who nodded towards the phone, a sign for him to answer.

  Everything seemed to play out in slow motion from then on, for Martha anyway. She listened as her husband answered and then heard the raspy voice of the man who’d taken her son. An urge to cry out to him and beg him to release Danny was hard to contain, especially when the next voice she heard was Danny’s.

  ‘Dad, Mum, they said I have to tell you I’m okay, but...’

  The kidnapper came back on the line. ‘Right, you’ve heard him! What happens to him now is up to you!’

  The line went dead.

  Martha shouted, ‘No!’ But it was too late.

  ‘Was that your son, Mr Stone?’ Best asked.

  ‘Yes, that was Danny.’ Richard moved to hold Martha but she pushed him away. Her disappointment in him was changing into anger. The kidnappers were expecting to receive three hundred thousand pounds early the next morning and he hadn’t been able to raise it.

  Martha’s mind began to conjure up terrifying scenarios. Closing her eyes didn’t help, as visions of her only child, screaming, bleeding, dead, haunted her thoughts and she was utterly powerless to do anything about it.

  ‘How are you getting on with raising the money, Mr. Stone?’ Radford asked.

  ‘I’m going back to the bank this afternoon to collect whatever funds I can withdraw, but it’s possible that it’s still going to be short,’ Richard answered.

  ‘Very short!’ Martha pulled herself together enough to speak sharply to him. ‘I’m going to ring Janice to see exactly how much cash we can get from the company funds. I suggest you go back to your parents, cap in hand, to see if they can help us. We need to get this money from somewhere.’

  Martha turned and went upstairs to make her call, hearing the front door bang as Richard went out. Heaven only knew what the police would think of their family situation but at that moment in time she honestly didn’t care. Martha knew she must do everything possible to raise the money to free Danny.

  ‘Janice? It’s Martha.’

  ‘Hi, how are you? Any news on Danny yet?’

  ‘No, that’s why I’m ringing. We need to get some money together. The police suggest we go along with the kidnappers’ demands, but of course they only want cash. Could you go to the bank and ask to withdraw as much cash as they’ll let you have? If you have to tell them what it’s for, then do — I don’t care about people knowing now. It’s going to be on the local news tonight.’

  ‘That’s no problem, Martha. I’ll get straight on with it. If I need your signature can I come round to the house?’

  ‘Of course, whatever it takes.’

  ‘And... I have a little nest egg tucked away in a building society account. Just a few thousand, but if it helps you can have it.’ Janice sounded almost embarrassed to be talking about the ransom money, but then, Martha thought, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence.

  ‘Oh, Janice, bless you! That’s so generous, but I’m still hoping we can raise it from other sources.’

  ‘Well, the offer’s there if you need it. I’ll head off to the bank now and call you when I know what can be done.’

  Janice rang off and Martha looked at the phone in her hand as tears again slid down her cheeks. She vowed never to take her PA for granted again. The ‘other sources’ she’d referred to troubled Martha. Hopefully Richard’s parents would lend them some money if they could, but as to how much, she really hadn’t a clue. Thomas and Thelma lived a modest life, but whether that was by choice or because their income was limited Martha didn’t know.

  Although never having been a religious person, Martha found herself offering a silent prayer that between them they could raise the money. She’d never been a sentimental woman either, but her grief and fear seemed to focus her mind on what was now clearly the best thing in her life — Danny. His smiling face looked up at her from the photograph on her desk. Picking it up, she traced her finger over the contours of her son’s face. It was a summer photograph and freckles, which Danny hated, peppered the bridge of his nose.

  Martha kissed the image of her son, tears welling up as she looked at his likeness. She thought back nearly twelve years ago to the day when Danny was born. The pregnancy hadn’t been planned but when the reality of a new life growing within her dawned, Martha began to love the baby in her womb. Initially she was wary about telling her husband, fearful of his reaction, but Richard was almost indifferent to the news of her pregnancy.

  In time he came round and long before their baby was due they were both excited about becoming parents. Labour was long but pretty straightforward and when Martha first held that tiny scrap of humanity which was her son, she cried with joy. It struck her quite suddenly that this helpless baby relied on her for everything, which simultaneously was both frightening and a delight. They spent two nights in a private hospital after the birth and Richard employed a maternity nurse for two weeks on their arrival home.

  They were such happy days, with both parents focussed on Danny who, they decided, would be their only child. A nanny was employed when Martha returned to work and their life settled into a well-oiled routine. Those early feelings of love for her child now washed over her as she reflected. Danny was once again vulnerable and needed
his parents now more than ever, but she wasn’t sure they could help him. Even if they raised the money, would these ruthless men release him? If they were heartless enough to snatch a young child off the street for money, would they be compassionate enough to let him go? What if Danny could identify them — would they take that risk?

  So many things could go wrong. Even the police involvement could prove fatal for Danny. The kidnappers had specified no police, but they would surely realise that the police were involved by the time they made contact? When a child goes missing, most parents’ instinct would be to call the police.

  Martha’s head ached from all these distressing thoughts; she must take things slowly, one step at a time and the first step was to raise the money. The logistics of what the kidnappers asked were somewhat vague in her mind. She’d heard her husband repeat the instructions on the phone, but all she could remember was six am and the name of a village she’d never before heard of — Little Stainsbeck. Richard seemed to know where the village was and he was apparently the one they wanted to deliver the money.

  Martha looked again at the list of assets she’d compiled but it was still well short of the mark. She decided to go back downstairs to have a conversation with DI Radford, if he was still there. There were too many questions in her mind and she needed answers.

  Radford was still in Martha’s living room, issuing orders over the phone. When he finished his call she asked if they could talk and DS Best and Suni tactfully moved into the kitchen to give Martha some privacy.

  ‘It’s nothing personal,’ she began to explain. ‘I’d just like to know what’s going to happen tomorrow. I can’t seem to get my head round it all.’

  ‘Well, we’ll go along with the kidnappers’ instructions, but naturally we’ll be watching in the hope of following them back to wherever they’re holding Danny,’ Radford explained.

  ‘But they said there should be no police. If they see you they might harm Danny!’

  ‘They won’t see us. The plan is to get your husband to go to Little Stainsbeck, as they’ve asked, alone. But even now we have officers scoping out the village to decide where we can best see the handover, without being seen ourselves. Our officers will be in place from about four am, watching every road into and out of the village.’