Rollover

by James Raven

  ‘Hey, I know that guy,’ Colleen almost shouted. ‘I thought he was a copper.’

  ‘He is,’ Temple said drily. ‘How’d you know him?’

  ‘Because I met him once. In fact I gave him a blow job. A freebie.’

  ‘Charming. Where was this?’

  She hoisted her cheeks into a wide grin. ‘At one of the parties I told you about. That bloke was one of the guests. I bet he’d know where the house is.’

  ‘Right, now listen up,’ Temple said, addressing his team of detectives. ‘We have a possible location for Joe Dessler. It’s a house near Winchester where he’s been staging sex parties for clients.’

  He’d got the address from DS Jordan, who had consulted his lawyer before imparting the information and admitting that he had attended two parties at the house earlier in the year as a guest.

  The property was a secluded four-bedroom house a mile from Winchester, the ancient cathedral city that lies just north of Southampton. It was part of a property portfolio owned by a development company, but rented out to an associate of Dessler’s named William Noakes. Dessler paid the lease and all the bills but had never wanted the place in his name, for obvious reasons.

  ‘We have no idea if Dessler is in the house,’ Temple said. ‘But there is a distinct possibility. We understand that Noakes lives there. And he may not be the only one. A records check has revealed that Noakes has form. He’s been inside once for GBH and did community service for burglary. He’s one of the heavies Dessler employs to put the frighteners on people who don’t pay their debts. We should have his picture in the next few minutes.’

  Temple went on to say that he had got the go-ahead from Priest to descend on the house with an armed response unit.

  ‘We tread carefully,’ he said. ‘This might be a complete waste of time. On the other hand, if he’s there it might turn nasty.’

  41

  The atmosphere in the loft was heavy and airless. The light from the overhead bulb was growing weaker, flickering more frequently.

  Maggie’s head was resting in the crook of my arm and I was running my fingers through her ravaged hair. Laura was still sleeping, her breath soft and fragile.

  It might have been any ordinary lazy Sunday morning, like hundreds of others we’d shared as a family. It was hard to accept that we were actually sitting here in a cold, dank loft waiting to die. Waiting for the dreaded sound outside of tyres on gravel. Waiting for the hatch to open and the kidnapper to appear.

  But that was the truth of it.

  ‘You’ve got to do something,’ Maggie said, her voice hoarse and tired.

  I knew that, but what?

  There has to be a way, I told myself.

  Think, think, think.

  I had to think.

  I had to unscramble my brain and concentrate on saving my family from certain death. I looked around, letting my senses soak up everything in sight.

  The slanted roof. The eaves. The cobwebs. The joists. The water tank. The exposed rolls of insulating lagging.

  I’d never thought of a loft as a prison before. But it can be a pretty effective one, especially when it’s at the top of a house in the middle of nowhere.

  Sweat moistened my entire body, pasting my jumper to my skin. I tried to shut my mind to the sobbing sounds that Maggie kept making. I looked again at our surroundings, willing myself to see something that I had so far missed. Something obvious or not so obvious. Something that my tired mind could latch on to and be inspired by.

  The roof. The joists. The rafters. The water tank. The chains. The cuffs. The exposed insulation.

  But it was a struggle. My name is Danny Cain, not Harry Houdini. I’m a reporter, not an escapologist.

  I thought about the loft hatch. Maggie told me she’d already tried to get Laura, who was able to reach it to open it from the inside, but she’d struggled with the mechanism and hadn’t been able to work it.

  The clock was ticking faster than my own heartbeat. My watch said one o’clock. Sunday-roast time. But not for us the comforts of a lovely meal and a warm fire. We were cold, scared and desperate.

  I told myself to concentrate. Don’t get distracted. There’s no time for that.

  Just focus.

  And think.

  Think harder than you have ever had to think in your life.

  The roof. The joists. The chipboard floor panels. The lagging. The water tank. There has to be….

  The lagging.

  I looked again at the fibre strips tucked between the joists, where there were no chipboard panels. Beneath the strips were the ceilings of the rooms downstairs. Ceilings made of plasterboard.

  The golden rule when moving around in a loft space is never to step between the joists because the ceiling won’t hold your weight and you’ll crash through. It’s a universal rule and plenty of people have come unstuck by ignoring it.

  As I stared at the exposed roll of lagging nearest to me an idea began to form. I moved away from Maggie and shuffled across the chipboard to the spot, grabbed the lagging and pulled it up to reveal the back of the plasterboard ceiling.

  And that was when hope was revived. I saw a way out of our prison. But it wouldn’t be easy. In fact the odds against it succeeding were astronomical. But it was our only option.

  I turned and saw that Maggie was staring at me.

  ‘I think I’ve found a way out,’ I said.

  I roused Laura from her sleep. She moaned a little and smacked her lips together. Then caught her breath when she was fully awake and realized that she was back in the nightmare she had sought to escape from.

  ‘I want you to go downstairs for me, sweetheart,’ I said gently. ‘I’m going to lower you through this floor and I want you to help us get out of here.’

  I was asking a lot of a six-year-old, but it had to be done. It was the only way out. Laura wasn’t chained up to a joist like her mother and me. We couldn’t go anywhere, but she could.

  She stared at me, terror etched firmly into her features. She was so young, so innocent, so unable to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.

  But for all our sakes she had to summon up the courage to do what I asked of her. I had to persuade her to go downstairs into this strange house; a tall order for a little girl who had already been traumatized by a series of horrific events.

  ‘You’ll be safe,’ I told her. ‘The man isn’t in the house.’

  ‘But I don’t want to go,’ Laura said.

  ‘I know, sweetheart, but you have to.’

  ‘But it’s dark and I don’t like the dark.’

  ‘It won’t be dark downstairs. It’s daytime. And anyway you can turn on the lights.’

  She pulled away from me, clung to her mother.

  ‘Can’t you see she’s absolutely terrified?’ Maggie said. ‘I don’t think she can do it.’

  ‘There’s no other way,’ I said. ‘And she has to do it now, before he comes back.’

  Maggie wiped the dampness from Laura’s brow.

  ‘What exactly is it you want her to do?’

  I got up and stepped over to where I’d pulled back the lagging.

  ‘I’m going to kick a hole in the ceiling here. It shouldn’t take long because it’s just plasterboard. Then I intend to lower Laura into the room below. I’d do it myself if I didn’t have this bloody chain around my wrist.’

  ‘And then what?’ Maggie said.

  ‘I want her to go down the stairs and look for a phone,’ I said. ‘She can dial the three nines. She knows how to do that. Then she can either try to talk to the police or leave the phone off the hook and they’ll respond.’

  ‘What if there isn’t a phone? After all, it’s pretty clear there’s nobody living here now.’

  ‘Then she can go outside and try to get help. There must be a village close by.’

  ‘It’s a lot to ask,’ Maggie said.

  ‘I know, but she can do it. I know she can.’

  Laura clung even more tightly to her mothe
r.

  ‘Don’t make me do it, Mummy. Please don’t make me.’

  I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to upset my daughter even more. The raw fear she was feeling was evident in her expression. But I knew I had to hold firm. I had to bully her into submission or stand by and watch her be killed.

  ‘We can’t make her do it,’ Maggie said.

  ‘We can and we will,’ I shouted, making both of them jump. ‘Unless you can think of a better plan, that is. And if you can’t then just shut up and don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.’

  Maggie was shocked by my outburst and Laura reacted by bursting into tears.

  ‘You can be the one to save us, sweetheart,’ I said in a gentler voice. ‘And when we go home you can tell your friends that you were the bravest of us all. Everyone will be so proud of you.’

  I decided to let it sink in for a few seconds. Laura needed to calm down and I needed Maggie’s support. A unified approach was the only way this was going to work.

  I reached down again and this time I cleared all the insulating lagging from a small area. Then I stood with my feet on two parallel joists. Between them was the ceiling of the room below us.

  ‘I’m now going to make a hole in the plasterboard,’ I said. ‘So brace yourselves for some noise.’

  I pulled up the slack in the chain and used it to give me support. Then I stamped down hard on the ceiling with my right shoe.

  CRASH!

  It was easier than I’d expected. My foot went crashing through it but the rest of me followed suit. A large section of plasterboard collapsed in an explosion of white dust and jagged grey particles.

  I dropped through the opening like a man on the gallows. For a second I thought I would fall all the way into the room below, but then the chain snapped taut and my arm was almost ripped out of its socket.

  I was left dangling through the ceiling with the cuff around my wrist cutting deep into my skin. The pain was excruciating and it rippled through my entire body. I clamped my eyes shut and bit into my lip.

  Maggie was saying something to me but I couldn’t make out the words. Then I felt her hands on my shoulder and I knew she was trying to pull me up out of the hole.

  I looked down and saw a small pool of light on the carpet from the loft. Over to the right was a double bed with a bare mattress that was now covered with bits of plasterboard. I could also see a wardrobe and a chair in one corner. The room was dark so the curtains must be closed.

  ‘Are you hurt, Danny?’ Maggie was saying. ‘Take my arm and I’ll help you out of there.’

  I placed my hands on the joists and heaved myself back up into the loft. My wrist was throbbing but I was sure it wasn’t broken.

  I glanced up at the joist in the hope that my weight had somehow dislodged it. But no such luck. It was still in place and looking as sturdy as an iron girder.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Maggie said.

  I nodded. I took a couple of deep breaths, coughed, and then retched into my hand. The fall had shaken me up pretty badly. My heart was in overdrive and my vision was blurred around the edges. The muscles in my back, arms, shoulders and neck were screaming. But that didn’t matter. I was doing something and it felt damn good.

  ‘Sit down and steady yourself,’ Maggie said.

  ‘There’s no time for that.’ I turned to Laura, who made a faint guttural sound as I beckoned her towards me. She didn’t move.

  ‘Come on, sweetheart. Please be brave and do this one thing for Daddy. All you have to do is go down and look for a phone. Dial nine, nine, nine. That’s the number for the police. If there’s no phone then I want you to go outside. Run down the lane and try to find a house or even someone out walking. Tell them where we are and to call the police.’

  Her panic-filled eyes darted towards her mother. Maggie started to say something but held back. I had her support now which was a relief. She knew we had to force our daughter to confront her fears. There was no other way out of this hellhole.

  ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ Maggie told her. ‘Just turn the lights on and walk down the stairs. It’ll take you a few minutes at the most. Nobody will harm you. I promise.’

  But Laura was having none of it. The fear was buried too deep and no amount of gentle persuasion was going to uproot it.

  There was only one thing for it – I had to make her fear me more than she feared the house.

  42

  ‘Get off your backside and come here, young lady. Don’t make me come and get you.’

  Laura wasn’t used to me shouting at her so I wasn’t sure how she would respond. I worried that she might become completely hysterical and maybe even hyperventilate.

  But in the event my booming voice and angry face did the trick. She started crawling towards me across the floor, her face white and wet, her body quivering with every pathetic sob.

  I felt awful. Piling further pressure on my little girl was like driving a stake through my own heart.

  ‘Please don’t make me do it, Daddy.’

  I reached for her hand, pulled her to her feet. Held her close to me for about half a minute, hoping my body would calm her nerves.

  ‘Just think what it will be like once we get home,’ I said. ‘You can play with your toys and meet up with your friends. You can have ice cream and watch the Disney Channel.’

  ‘I want to stay with you and Mummy,’ she said.

  ‘And you will, honey. We’ll be right here. But you’ve got to do this one thing for us first.’

  ‘Take Max with you,’ Maggie said. ‘He’ll look after you and make sure that you’re safe.’

  ‘Max is scared too,’ Laura responded. ‘He doesn’t want to go.’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t look scared to me,’ I said.

  She frowned at me. ‘You can see him?’

  ‘Of course I can. Now tell him to go with you and take care of you.’

  She looked around, her eyes focusing on a spot to my right. Was she actually seeing her imaginary friend? Was he speaking to her? Telling her to ignore her father and stay put?

  I looked over her shoulder into the hole I had created. It was gloomy and forbidding, but I tried not to think about that.

  I let go of Laura. Maggie put an arm around her. I lowered myself on to the chipboard and lay flat out so that I could peer into the bedroom below. I could just see the door, which was closed.

  I got back up and said to Laura, ‘The light switch is very close, sweetheart. As soon as you’re down you can turn it on.’

  As Maggie whispered reassuringly to Laura, I applied my mind to how I’d get her down there. I’d have to use my right hand and lean as far into the hole as possible. It was going to be tough – and painful.

  ‘OK – let’s do it,’ I said. ‘The sooner it’s done the better. ‘I pointed to one of the joists. ‘Laura, I want you to sit there and take my hand. I’m then going to lower you slowly into the bedroom below us. I won’t let go until you’ve almost reached the floor.’

  In truth there would be a drop of several feet, but I didn’t think that would be a problem since Laura was young and supple. It would be no different from leaping off the sofa at home, something she did all the time. The bed, unfortunately, was just too far over to allow me to lower her on to it.

  She was looking at me warily now as she clung to her mother. It was clear that I hadn’t persuaded her to do this willingly. She was frightened and confused and she was hoping that I would change my mind.

  I could shout at her again, but I wasn’t sure what that would achieve, other than to wind her up even more.

  So I just grabbed her hand and tugged her towards me. She screamed out and tried to jerk herself free.

  ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ I said, ‘but I have to make you go down there. Max will be right behind you. I promise.’

  She started to react with her body and I realized there was no way she was going to sit on the joist and allow me to lower her gently. So I didn’t bother t
o try. Instead I swung her towards the hole in the ceiling until she was hanging above it. The strain this put on my arm was almost unbearable. It was made worse by the fact that she was kicking and screaming the whole time.

  ‘Keep still, for heaven’s sake,’ I shouted.

  But she was terrified. Her mind hadn’t matured enough to grasp the significance of the threat we all faced. To her the worst thing that could happen was to go down into that scary room.

  ‘Be careful, Danny,’ Maggie yelled. At the same time she reached out and tried to grab Laura.

  ‘No,’ I snapped at her. ‘Leave her be. I’ve got this.’

  With all the strength I could muster I held on tightly to my daughter as I dropped to my knees. Keeping my arm rigid was the real problem at this stage. The pain was agonizing. The tendons in my arms looked as though they might burst through the skin.

  Laura grabbed on to one of the joists with her free hand and I yelled for Maggie to prise it free. But she hesitated.

  ‘Just do it, will you?’ I screamed at her.

  They were both hysterical now, as Maggie seized Laura’s wrist and lifted her hand away from the joist. I let my arm drop more quickly and Laura’s body sank down into the hole. But the pressure on my muscles became too intense. I was struggling to hold on.

  Laura was now flailing around like a fish on a hook and she was clawing at my hand with her fingers. My face was now above the hole. I was supporting myself by pressing down on one of the joists with my cuffed hand. My arm was at last at an angle and Laura’s head was now below the level of the ceiling. Her feet were dangling about five feet above the bedroom floor.

  My arm was on fire. And so were the muscles across my chest.

  Just hold on.

  Don’t let go yet. If you do she’ll be hurt.

  I lowered her another few inches. And then another.

  Eventually I had to release my grip because the pain and pressure were too much.

  Laura fell the rest of the way to the floor – a drop of about four feet.