Snatched From Home: What Would You Do To Save Your Children? (DI Harry Evans Book 1)

by Graham Smith

  Five to twelve.

  Beside him, Campbell was relaying his instructions to Lauren. Half listening, he pressed down that little bit harder on the accelerator. Evans stood on the brake pedal as a sharp corner appeared in the glare of the headlights, forcing the ABS to kick back rhythmically at the sole of his boot. Concentrating on driving, he almost missed what Campbell said to Lauren.

  You’re fucking joking, he thought in disbelief. Can’t be.

  Then he remembered the five missed calls on her phone from Campbell.

  Evans waited until Campbell ended the call before accusing him: ‘You’re shagging her, aren’t you?’

  ‘What the hell are you on about?’

  ‘You and Lauren. You just called her hon then. Short for honey. Hardly the way a senior officer should address his staff. And all those missed calls yesterday. You said you were trying to find out about the case. You could have called me when she didn’t answer. You didn’t though, did you? You kept calling her instead.’

  ‘You’re talking shite, Harry. I called her hen. In case you didn’t know, it’s a Glasgow term which equates to dear, love or sweetheart.’

  ‘Don’t give me that bollocks. There’s a big difference between hon and hen.’

  Despite everything else that was happening, Evans was shocked at discovering this affair. He’d done his fair share of sleeping around before he’d met Janet, but he’d never cheated on anyone. Let alone cheated on his wife.

  ‘So what if I am shagging her? We’re both adults.’

  ‘So what? So fucking what?’ Evans corrected a slide as the car hurtled round a corner. ‘You’ve got a wife and a son. That’s fucking what.’

  Evans couldn’t believe his ears. Here was a man who had everything – everything that had been snatched away from him – and he was jeopardising it for a fling with a junior officer whose reputation would shame an alley cat. His wife, son and career were all at risk because he couldn’t keep his trousers on.

  ‘Look, there’s the road end.’ Campbell seized the opportunity to change the subject.

  ‘Don’t for one minute think this discussion is finished.’ Evans had plenty more to say to Campbell about his infidelity, but he needed to concentrate on rescuing the two kids first.

  Evans looked at the clock. Eleven fifty-nine. Having heard nothing from Bhaki he could only assume that the children were still unharmed. He didn’t dare him in case his phone wasn’t on silent. He waited until a PC moved the car blocking the lane, put the BMW into first gear, switched off the lights and let the car haul itself along the rutted lane.

  Chapter 73

  Samantha’s teeth rattled a staccato beat as she waited for their fate to be revealed. Her broken finger throbbed a separate rhythm, out of step with her chattering teeth. She and Kyle were tied to wooden chairs which Blair had dragged out of a corner. The other two men in the shed wore their masks as they unloaded a cattle wagon. Not once did they look their way.

  Kyle was shivering and complaining of the cold, but being cold was the least of her worries. As soon as they were secured to the chairs, Blair had wheeled across a sack barrow which carried two gas bottles. The smaller of the bottles was red with ‘propane’ stencilled on the side in white paint. The second bottle was taller but thinner, the legend ‘oxygen’ ran along its length. Connecting the bottles were hoses, leading to a lance identical to the one she’d seen in the video.

  Faced with the failure of all her plans, she tried to summon the last of her courage. The task would have been beyond her had Kyle not been by her side. Whatever happened, she must try to protect him. She daren’t give way to the tears that pricked her eyes or the gorge threatening to rise up her throat. That would spell defeat. Once she started to cry she wouldn’t be able to stop, wouldn’t have the strength to plead for her brother to be spared punishment.

  Before the men started on her, she had to secure Kyle’s safety. Elvis was the only one she trusted to do that. Blair was an evil lech who would enjoy making her suffer. When the men came to punish her, she would either be mutilated or killed. Oblivion would take her one way or the other. Death would stop everything, but if she was mutilated, she could only hope that she passed out like the man in the video.

  The fact that Elvis’s phone was ruined puzzled her. Using the mystery as a distraction she bent her mind to the problem. What was so important about the phone? Who did he need to speak to at this time of night? The obvious answers were that he needed the phone to see if the ransom had been paid. That didn’t add up though as she knew they had a laptop. So he must need to speak to someone. But who? Judging by Elvis’s behaviour – demanding of answers, the sadistic treatment – it must be someone who scared him. But who would scare the boss of a bunch of kidnappers? she wondered. Then it struck her: Elvis wasn’t the real boss. He was just the boss of these men. They must be working for someone else. Someone scary.

  Blair walked over to them. Rainwater slick on his coat, running down his mask. He stood before her, eyeing her cold and naked body.

  ‘My Grandma, what big nips you have.’ Adopting a higher tone, Blair answered himself, ‘All the better to hang your coat on.’

  ‘If you let him go. Then I’ll let you shag me.’

  ‘Come again?’ Blair’s head cocked to one side. His eyes sparkling with desire.

  Screwing her nerves, Samantha repeated the words she’d never expected to say. The very thought filled her with revulsion, but it might save Kyle’s life.

  Blair’s head tilted back as he roared with laughter. ‘You’ll let me shag you. That’s fucking priceless. You’ll let me.’

  Bending in close to Samantha, he cupped a breast with his hand. His foul breath polluted her nose as he moved his mouth close.

  ‘I can shag you anytime I want, missy. In case you’re forgetting, you’re the one tied to the chair.’

  ‘Please.’ Samantha hated pleading with the dirty lecherous oaf, but it was her only hope. ‘Let him go and I’ll shag you any way you want. You do want to shag me, don’t you?’

  ‘You’re right, I do. But if I do as you suggest, then I’ll end up occupying the boy’s chair. Be much easier to just turn you over, tie you down and help meself.’

  She thought quickly. ‘But surely shagging me with my consent will be more pleasurable than raping me?’

  His head cocked to one side as if considering her question. ‘Dunno about that. What about the boys? Can they join in?’

  Samantha’s mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

  ‘No matter. We’ll just help ourselves.’ A firm squeeze of her breast caused her to gasp as dirty fingernails dug into tender skin. ‘According to statistics, nine out of ten people enjoy gang rape… let’s see which side you’re on.’

  ‘No… please don’t do that.’ In spite of her terror, she held her gaze high, looking at Blair’s piggy eyes behind the mask.

  A hand grasped Blair’s collar and hauled him away from Samantha.

  ‘You’ll get your time with her soon enough.’ Marshall jerked his thumb. ‘Go get your video camera.’

  Elvis stood before her, a mobile phone in his hand. ‘I’ve just found out that your parents have paid the ransom.’

  Samantha felt her shoulders droop as the tension flooded out of her. They were going to be set free. Somehow Mum and Dad had got the money needed to free them.

  ‘What did you mean by telling him he’d get his time with me? Are you really going to let him rape me?’ Every instinct Samantha possessed told her that Elvis was a dangerous man. Yet there was reluctance in his eyes, as if he was following a course he didn’t fully believe in. Beneath Elvis’s mask, she saw his throat bulge as he swallowed before answering her.

  ‘No, he’s not going to rape you. I won’t let that happen.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you so mu—’

  Samantha fell silent at his raised hand.

  ‘My boss is concerned that you saw my face. He wants to send you back with a message you’ll never forget.’


  ‘What message? I’ll take any message back you want me to.’ Words gushed out of Samantha’s mouth until she saw Elvis’s throat bulge again. Following his gaze to the gas bottles, she pushed back against the chair.

  ‘No. Please no. Not that. Please don’t do that to us. You’ve got your money. There’s no need to do that to us.’

  ‘It’s your own fault. If you hadn’t tried to escape then you wouldn’t have seen my face.’

  ‘I’ll never tell. I won’t tell a soul. Ever. I promise.’ Tears rolled down her face as she fought for control of her voice. ‘There’s no need to do that to us.’

  Thoughts of her brother leaped into her mind. She must protect Kyle. It was her turn to swallow now.

  ‘I want you to leave my brother alone. Whatever you were going to do to him I want you to do to me instead.’

  ‘Really?’ Surprise and admiration laced Elvis’s voice.

  ‘Yes.’

  Samantha nearly faltered when she saw Blair return with the video camera. Turning her head she looked at her brother. His eyes were full of fear, his cheeks stained by the tears that had flowed non-stop since they’d been caught trying to escape.

  Elvis turned at the scuff of Blair’s boots.

  ‘The boss says we have to take one of her feet off and video it. You get your torch ready and I’ll do the rest.’

  Samantha pleaded for all she was worth but to no avail.

  Elvis bound her left ankle to the chair leg. Removing his belt and doubling it over he held it in front of her mouth. ‘Put this between your teeth, it’ll stop you from biting your tongue or crushing your teeth.’

  ‘Please no. Don’t do this to me.’

  Seeing her final plea ignored, Samantha opened her mouth and allowed Elvis to place the belt between her teeth. Its foul leathery taste made her gag, but she endured it, recognising the warped kindness which had compelled him to put it in her mouth.

  Her eyes fixed on Blair. He picked up the lance, which was connected via hoses to the two gas bottles. He twiddled with one of the knobs on the lance until Samantha could hear the hiss of gas escaping. Producing a lighter from his pocket, Blair ignited the gas. A yellow flame enveloped the end of the lance. He adjusted the twin knobs, allowing more gas and air to pour through the nozzle.

  Samantha could hear whooshes and crackles as the flame became a long, focused jet.

  As Blair fiddled with the knobs, the jet shortened and turned from orangey yellow to blue tinged white. The cone-shaped flame shrank in length as oxygen mixed into the gas feed. He pressed on a lever and the lance emitted a loud hiss. The flame shrank in length but grew in intensity as pure oxygen was forced through the nozzle, until it was four inches long and the ice blue of an arctic sky.

  Blair turned to Elvis. ‘Ready when you are.’

  Chapter 74

  Evans crept the car along the lane without headlights, using the ruts to guide him. He had an open line to Bhaki, which he put onto speaker, who gave him a full layout of the shed, from the locations of the kids to the exit points. Beside him, Campbell was updating the armed response units and keeping in touch with Chisholm, who was tracing the money as it moved from one account to another. The armed response units would be on-site in less than five minutes. Five minutes could be at least four minutes too late. The dashboard clock stood at midnight. If anything developed in the next few minutes it was up to him, Campbell, Bhaki and a few woodentops to go in and save the kids. That might not be enough bodies to catch everyone and they had no firearms with them.

  The BMW grouched along the track, pitching as it found every hole, scraping its underbelly on ridges. Rain battered against the windscreen forcing him to concentrate on not driving into the ditch running alongside the track. A van filled with PCs followed a hundred yards behind him.

  ‘Anything happening, Amir?’

  ‘Nothing to report, guv.’

  In spite of all that could go wrong, these were the moments Evans lived for as a policeman. The arrests, takedowns and interrogations, gave him a buzz nothing else could replace. Cresting a hill, he could see a dark outline of the farm ahead. Shards of light emanating from a large shed drew him in like a homing signal.

  Suddenly Bhaki’s panic stricken voice came through the speaker. ‘Guv. They’ve just lit the blowtorch and it looks like they’re getting ready to use it on the girl. Should I go in and stop them?’

  Fuck.

  Evans switched on his headlights and stamped his right foot onto the accelerator. ‘I’ll be there in a second. On my signal, follow me in.’

  ‘What signal, guv?

  ‘You’ll know.’ He slammed into third gear.

  Shadows flitted around the BMW as the following van threw beams of light their way, its driver sensing the sudden urgency. There was no time for finesse. This takedown would have to be done with brute force and the element of surprise used to its maximum capacity.

  ‘Hold on.’ His warning was unnecessary; Campbell had already braced himself against the violent jolts the car was sustaining from the rough track. Slaloming his way through the gate to the farmyard, Evans executed a controlled slide then pointed the nose of the car at the illuminated shed’s massive wooden doors. As the car raced towards the doors, he gripped the wheel tight, prepared himself for the impact.

  The air reverberated with the splintering sound of the twin wooden doors buckling inwards, followed by the tinkling of glass and crunch of metal as the BMW’s speed carried it through the doors and into a cattle wagon with a vicious thump. Evans batted down the airbag, choking on the talcum powder used to prevent it from sticking together. Throwing his shoulder against the car door he fought his way from the wreckage of his beloved car.

  ‘Police. Everyone down on the ground now.’

  Two men ran out from the back of the cattle wagon and made for a side door, where they were met by Bhaki holding a fence post in front of him as if it was a sword. At the far end of the room, the other two had dropped the blowtorch and video camera and were looking for better weapons. Evans sprinted across the floor and threw himself at the nearest one. Rugby tackling the man to the ground, he got on top of him and smashed his fist into the grinning Tony Blair mask that covered his face until he felt the man go limp beneath him.

  He looked up to see the remaining man wrestling with Campbell and winning. Campbell took a knee to the groin, which left him rolling on the floor gasping for air. The man scrambled to his feet and, straightening his Elvis mask, made to run to the door. Before the man could escape, Evans grabbed his jacket, spinning the man round to face him.

  He was a big bugger, Evans would give him that. But there was no way he would allow the man to escape. Elvis jabbed with his left hand, then sent a right cross at Evans that would have beheaded him if he hadn’t ducked below it. Getting inside the man’s reach, Evans drove lefts and rights into Elvis’s gut. His blows had little effect on the man mountain in front of him so he switched his aim and pummelled Elvis’s kidneys.

  Elvis only grunted and wound his arms around Evans, and squeezed the older man in a brutal bear hug.

  With both arms trapped, Evans had only his head and feet as a weapon. He hadn’t enough purchase to get a decent kick in, so he arched his back and delivered a crushing headbutt. The vice-like grip loosened. He repeated the blow a second and third time until he could break free. Picking his spot with care he swung a roundhouse that felled the already dazed Elvis.

  Evans directed the PCs arriving from the van towards Elvis and Blair as he ran across to free the two children. Noticing the girl’s nakedness for the first time, he removed his jacket and draped it over her to cover her exposed body.

  ‘It’s OK, lass. You’re safe now.’ Evans ran his eyes over the boy and then looked back at the girl. ‘Have they hurt you?’

  ‘No. But they were going to cut my foot off with that thing.’ Samantha nodded at the still flaming blowtorch.

  Evans pulled a Leatherman multi-tool from his pocket and cut Samantha fre
e before doing the same for Kyle. Campbell groaned as he dragged himself to his feet but Evans had no sympathy for him. ‘Hey, Jock. Call your bloody girlfriend and tell her to bring the parents.’

  As Samantha and Kyle hugged each other, sobbing with relief. Evans walked across to the gas bottles and twisted the outlet valves on the bottles to stop the flow of gas.

  With the swoosh of the blowtorch silenced, Evans could hear the kidnappers protesting their innocence, accusing them all of police brutality and demanding their lawyers, but none of it mattered to him.

  He’d saved the two kids. Job done.

  He’d attend the interviews with Lauren later, and spend the next day helping Campbell build the case against the four men, but as far as he was concerned this was his last real act as a policeman.

  He expected to be hauled into someone’s office for a bollocking when the full details came out, but he didn’t care. They couldn’t sack him and they daren’t take his pension away after this result.

  Turning back to the kids he bent his knees until he was face to face with Kyle. ‘Your Mum and Dad are on their way, lad. They’ve missed you very much and can’t wait to see you again.’

  Kyle shrank tighter against his sister, his mouth widening as he started crying again.

  Standing up, Evans told Samantha that an ambulance was coming and that they’d have to be checked out by a doctor before they could go home.

  ‘Don’t worry, though. Your folks’ll be here any second.

  Chapter 75

  Victoria was beside herself. Lauren did her best to offer distraction, but all she wanted was for the girl’s phone to ring and someone to tell her that her babies were safe. They’d been parked beside a street light in the little village of Hesket Newmarket, for what seemed like hours. Although Lauren had told them the police had located their children and were working on a plan to rescue them safely, Victoria couldn’t bring herself to believe it.