Cordon of Lies: A Sgt Major Crane Novel
Page 17
“Why’s that?”
“He said he heard planes a couple of times when Foster rang him, so he could have been close to Farnborough Airport. They weren’t the big jets you hear from Gatwick, he said they sounded like smaller, lighter aircraft.”
Crane picked up his mobile and rang the office. It took several rings before anyone picked up Kim’s phone. In answer to Crane’s request to speak to her, he was told she’d gone out for an early lunch. Ending the call, he phoned her mobile. Again, after an interminable number of rings, she didn’t pick up. Crane shrugged and leaning back against the car seat, closed his eyes. She was probably with the Padre, he thought. He’d try her again later.
Chapter 38
“You know, I think I preferred you with the blond wig. You looked much more my type like that.”
Kim jumped as a man sat himself down on the seat next to her in the cafe. She was waiting for the Padre, as they’d intended to grab a quick lunch together before he went off to his seminar. He would be gone for several days. She’d been day dreaming as she’d sat waiting, wondering about their relationship and had realised how much she’d miss him whilst he was away. She had enjoyed going to the church service on Sunday and had found the familiar hymns and readings soothing. She wasn’t much of a church goer, her attendance in the past had been mostly restricted to those times when she was expected to attend as a soldier, so she’d surprised herself when she got something out of the service. She was experiencing a kind of peace that had settled over her since the service. She was sure she’d done the right thing by going, and those thoughts and feelings had stayed with her over the last few days.
She was craning her neck, looking out of the window for a glimpse of the Padre, so she’d been caught off-guard when the man spoke to her.
“Sorry, did I startle you?”
Kim looked closely at the man’s face. “You’re…”
“Yes, that’s right, Kim, I’m Barry Foster.”
As Kim leaned forward to move her coat so she could grab her handbag off the table, find her mobile and call 999, Foster pushed the tip of a knife into her side.
“Now, now, Kim, let’s be sensible about this,” he growled the warning and so she sat back against the seat. “Good girl. Now, here’s what we are going to do. We’re going to get up together and make our way out of here. My van’s parked just up the road and we’re going to get into the back. Alright?”
Kim managed to nod. What the hell did Barry Foster want with her? She wondered if Francis would arrive in time to see them. Maybe he would. Maybe he’d tell the office what had happened to her. Maybe he’d be able to follow them without being seen. The disjointed jumbled thoughts were caught up in the wave of her panic.
Could she do anything about her situation? She thought about all the hand to hand combat moves she’d been taught, but it was clear Foster would tower over her and she realised that he was just too big for her. And perhaps a brawl in the street wasn’t such a good idea, there was a risk Foster may injure a member of the public.
“Don’t do anything stupid like call out to the waiter,” he said. “Remember, it will only take a moment for this knife to slice your side open.”
Foster grabbed her arm at the elbow with his right hand and pulled her to her feet. With his left hand holding the dagger to her side, they left the cafe together. It had already cut through her tunic and she could feel the cold steel against her skin. One false move would plunge the knife into her side. She reasoned Foster wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she resisted. After all, they knew he’d killed two women. Her over-active imagination conjured up other poor women he may have killed over the past 10 years. All looking the same; petite, with good figures and blond hair.
It was only a few feet to his van and once there, Foster opened the back door and pushed her in, banging her legs on the bottom of the bumper, making her stumble and she ended up sprawled along the floor inside the van. Her legs burned from the scrapes and bruises and before she could steady herself, Foster jumped in beside her. Grabbing the back of her hair which was tied into a bun, he viciously pulled her head back, slapping a piece of tape across her mouth. He quickly bound her hands together behind her back and then her legs, with large plastic restraints. He finished by pulling a blindfold over her eyes. Kim heard the back door slam, the driver’s side door open and the engine splutter into life.
The darkness closed in on her and with a great effort she controlled her breathing so she wouldn’t hyperventilate with panic. In her head she heard the Padre’s voice, ‘close your eyes, allow your body to relax and breathe deeply,’ and she sank into the floor of the van, trying to follow his instructions. He’d helped her through flashbacks and panic attacks in the past and she held on to his comforting and empowering words now. As her breathing slowed and her head cleared she wondered again why Foster had taken her. What could he possibly want with the SIB Office Manager? It wasn’t as though she was an investigator, someone getting too close, causing Foster to retaliate. She began to feel like a chess piece in a game played by Foster and Sgt Major Crane. A pawn in a game she had no control over.
By now Foster had driven off the main road and because she had nothing to hold onto, the ruts in the track sent her bouncing up and down and then rolling around as Foster took the corners too fast. The back of the van seemed empty as she cannoned from one side to the other.
As the journey wore on, Kim tried to listen for any sounds that would give her an idea as to where they were, but the clattering of the old van drowned out any other sounds. She became disoriented and lost track of time, unable to say if she’d been in the van minutes or hours. She had no idea if they were travelling in one direction, or round and round in circles. She was upset, disorientated and fearful, but as her Army training kicked in, which it always did in the end, she became angry, trying her best to wrench her hands free, but merely succeeding in cutting her skin.
With a final jolt the van came to a halt and Kim waited as she heard Foster get out of the vehicle, walk around to the back and open the doors. She had been thrown against the back door when the van stopped and as it opened she fell out, landing on the hard ground with a thump, the fall winding her. More concerned with trying to draw in as much air to her lungs as she could, she was unable to fight back, as Foster grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder. After a few paces he stopped. She could hear him fumbling with a door and then she was thrown to the floor.
The crash of the door closing echoed in what she assumed was a building of some kind. A hut perhaps, or some sort of shed, as she could smell wood. The floor seemed to be cold hard concrete, with a light covering of earth. Filtering through the door were the sounds of Foster slamming his van doors and then driving away. After that there was nothing else to help Kim orientate herself and only the occasional sound of birdsong to keep her company. She became aware of the cold from the floor bleeding through her clothes and causing her to shiver. The thin fabric of her Army uniform not much of a barrier, as she had left her coat in the cafe.
She had to get out, but how? As Kim struggled to sit up, she knew there had always been an element of proving herself as a girl in the Army, earning her slot, showing people she did deserve to be there and that she could do her job. So, she decided to view this situation as just one more aspect of that same old, same old. Here we go again, she thought and turning onto her side, she rubbed her face against the floor, in an effort to get the blindfold off.
Chapter 39
As Crane and Billy drove back to Aldershot, Crane took the opportunity to close his eyes. He was still on pain killers from the accident and as his medication was wearing off, he’d have to take some more when they stopped. He was just drifting off to sleep when his phone rang.
“Shit,” Crane exclaimed as he tried to get his phone out of his jacket pocket, which was stuck under his seatbelt. He just about managed to catch the call before the mobile clicked over to answer phone.
“Crane,” he snapped, not best
pleased at being woken up.
“Crane,” a distressed voice called, “Bill Lampton here.”
“Oh, so you’ve crawled out of the woodwork again, have you, Bill? What do you want this time?”
Crane took the phone away from his ear and hit the speaker button, so Billy could listen in.
“Come on, Crane, don’t be like that.” Lampton’s voice was made tinny by the speakers and turned his voice into a whine.
“Like what, Lampton? How should I be towards my star witness who won’t do anything to help?”
“Well, I think I will help now, Crane.”
“Oh you do, do you? I wonder what has changed your mind.”
“Yes, well, I heard about your accident.”
“I thought you might have done,” Crane turned and winked at Billy.
“I think I need a bit of protection.”
“Really?” sneered Crane. “Now there’s a surprise.”
“For God’s sake, Crane. Please, I need your help. You’ve got to protect me from Foster. He’s rung and threatened to kill me if I don’t keep my mouth shut.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Don’t you have protective custody, or something, that you can take me into? Witness protection, that sort of thing?”
“This isn’t a film, Lampton, we’re not the FBI or CIA.”
“Look, I’m sure you can do something, Crane.”
“Okay, give me one good reason why I should help you.”
Crane heard the intake of breath and then Lampton hissed, his voice just above a whisper, “Because I’ve got proof that can put Foster and Sir Peter bloody Dunne away.”
“Proof?” Crane sat up straighter in his car seat and Billy looked over questioningly. “What sort of proof? You could be making this up, just because you want a safe haven. What sort of proof?” Crane repeated.
“I’ve a tape with Sir Peter telling me the whole story and ordering me to change my statement in the Carol Newton case 10 years ago. I made it secretly when he came to speak to me.”
“A tape,” said Crane. “Well, that could make a difference, Lampton. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“Because I didn’t want to get involved. I was hoping all this would go away.”
“Mmm, so as it’s not, you’re prepared to crawl to me asking for help?”
“I’ll help you, as long as you protect me, Crane.”
“Alright, Lampton, leave it with me. I’m on my way back to Provost Barracks now. I’ll speak to Captain Edwards and phone you back.”
Crane closed the phone with a big grin on his face. “That was worth getting my car smashed up for, Billy, don’t you think? I’ll phone Kim and ask her to set up a meeting with the Captain.”
But Crane once again got the same as before. No Kim at the office and no reply from her mobile.
*
Striding into Provost Barracks, Crane was very surprised to see that Kim still wasn’t back. It wasn’t like her to go AWOL. In fact, he’d never known it to happen before. Whatever the reason for her absence, her behaviour was unusual. For the moment, Bill Lampton could wait. He wanted to find out where Kim was.
As he walked into his cubby hole of an office, his phone was ringing. Grabbing the receiver he heard, “Crane, is that you?”
“Yes, Padre,” Crane recognised his voice, although it sounded rather high pitched and panicky, which was unusual for the mild mannered Captain.
“Have you seen Kim?”
“You know, I was just about to phone you and ask you the same thing. She apparently went out to meet you for an early lunch but she hasn’t come back.”
“Oh sweet Jesus, there’s definitely something wrong, then. She was supposed to meet me before I went away for a few days to... oh it’s not important where. What’s important is that I think Kim’s missing.”
Never having heard the Padre blaspheme before, Crane was taken aback, but it made him more convinced of the Padre’s concern.
“Where are you now, Sir?”
“In the cafe up at North Camp. You know the one we all use.”
“Yes, I know it, Sir. Just wait there, Billy and I are on our way.”
*
The cafe, situated in a side street in the commercial part of North Camp, was basic. Starbucks it definitely wasn’t. Crane walked in, passing simple metal chairs tucked under tables set for four, which sported laminate covers. Garish menus were slotted into holders on each table and just in case anyone couldn’t be bothered to pick up and read the menu, it was reprinted along the walls at the end of the cafe. This urged customers to order the myriad ways to have a cooked breakfast or burgers with every accompaniment you could think of. Healthy eating seemed to have given this place a miss. Captain Symmonds was deep in conversation with the owner, who had his hand on the Padre’s arm.
“Ah, Sgt Major,” called Yannis, the owner. “I am sorry to hear about dear Kim. But, really, I didn’t think anything was wrong at the time.” Yannis saw many soldiers in and out of the cafe and Crane knew he treated everyone as part of some sort of large family of his. He took the time to talk to people, find out about them and then prided himself on remembering their names and a small detail of their lives. It worked pretty well and Yannis did brisk trade. Crane was never sure whether it was genuine concern on Yannis’ part, or a clever ploy to keep the customers coming back. Whichever it was, it worked.
“Hello, Yannis, Padre,” Crane nodded in their direction. “What’s happened?”
The Padre explained, “I was due to meet Kim for an early lunch. But when I arrived she wasn’t here.”
“I’m sorry to ask, Padre, but can you think of any reason why she wouldn’t meet you today? Any reason why she might have changed her mind about coming?”
The Padre looked at Crane, a pink flush appearing on his face at Crane’s roundabout mention of his relationship with Kim and he audibly swallowed before saying, “No, you don’t understand, Crane. It wasn’t that at all. She did come to meet me, but was gone by the time I arrived.”
“Yes, he’s right, Sgt Major,” chipped in Yannis. “She did come in but after a few minutes left with another man.” Yannis ran his hands through his black, glossy, or was it greasy, hair and then immediately wiped his palms on his large white apron.
“Another man? Can you describe him please?”
“Um, well I’m not sure I took much notice at the time, but he was white and burly looking, but that could have been his donkey jacket - you know I haven’t seen one of those for a long time. Have you?”
“No, Yannis, I haven’t. Can you continue please?”
“Oh, right, well, he was tall and well, looked, like, well, big and strong, I suppose.”
“Hair?”
“Oh, I didn’t see any, come to think of it. He had a sort of woolly hat on but there was no hair sticking out of it.
“I’m worried about her, Crane,” interrupted the Padre.
“So am I, Sir, but firstly I have to get as much information as possible. Anything that may help or give us a direction to go on.”
“Sorry.” The Padre seemed on the verge of tears and to Crane it was clear how much the man thought of Kim. It would appear they’d become quite close over the past few months. Crane wondered if the Padre’s feelings were reciprocated.
“Tell me what the sequence of events was,” he said to Yannis.
The cafe owner moved out from behind the counter and pointed to a table near the door, one with a view through the large window. “Kim sat there,” he said. “She told me she would order later, when the Padre arrived and then she turned back to the window, presumably watching for the Captain here. The next thing that happened was this burly bloke coming in. He sat next to Kim. Moving his chair close to her. They had a quick conversation, although I couldn’t hear what was said. Then they got up. He was holding Kim’s arm and they stayed side by side as they left the cafe.”
“Which way did they turn? Left or right?”
“Um, left I think.”
“Did you see a vehicle? Did you see them getting into one?”
“Well, after they left I walked to the table they had been using, because Kim had left her handbag and coat behind. She’d left in such a rush she’d forgotten them. I wanted to give them back to her, so I stood in the doorway and looked up and down the street. A white van charged past and it could have been the man with the woollen hat driving it, but to be honest I’m not altogether sure. Believing she’d come back for her handbag and coat, I put them behind the counter for safe keeping.”
“Can I see them?”
“Sure,” and Yannis disappeared back behind his counter.
“What do you think, Crane? Who’s got her?”
“I’m very much afraid Barry Foster has, Padre.”
“Oh my goodness!” This time the Padre didn’t flush pink, but paled. “Kim’s told me about him. Why would he take her?”
“To be honest I don’t really know. I suspect he’s just sending me a message, telling me he’s still out there. That he’s able to play with us, keep us occupied so we haven’t time to look for him.”
“Do you think he’ll,” the Padre felt for a nearby chair and dropped into it, “that he’ll kill her?” he finished in a whisper.
Crane joined him at the table. “No, Sir, I don’t think so. Foster has a track record of threatening the team and even my family, but he hasn’t harmed anyone.”
“Not yet.”
“No, Sir, not yet.”
Chapter 40
Kim had managed to get the blindfold off. The side of her face was scratched from the small stones lying on the concrete floor, but at least she could see. A bit. The hut was very dark, with no windows. The only light came from the badly fitted wooden door, but still, it was better than the blackness of the blindfold.
Next Kim went about sorting out her arms. They were tied behind her back and she needed them at the front of her. Kneeling down, she forced her tied hands under her bottom and when they were lying against the back of her thighs she fell onto her back. The hardest part was getting her legs through her hands. She managed to push off her shoes, not wanting them to get caught as she was extracting her feet and carefully got her legs through her arms, her tights helping the plastic ties to slide down her legs.