by Anne Bone
Des could not stop himself from asking. Why he had not gone straight to the police, instead of trying to sell the information to Daphne. He successfully managed to keep the anger out of his voice and the tone even and calm. Even though he really wanted to get this man by his collar and give him a good shaking.
Daphne gave him a stern warning look, before turning again to Wayne.
Wayne looked a bit sheepish. ‘I did think about the coppers, but I’m a bit short of the readies see.’
Daphne smiled again, that sweet sickly smile. ‘Now, Wayne tell me, can you remember where this Mike said the family were actually heading.’
Wayne rubbed his forehead with hand. ‘Now I know they said it was up in the mountains somewhere. Sounded like a place in the Westerns, Sierra… something.’ He scratched his head again. ‘Sierra… Nevada that’s it. A village in the mountains, said that they had a house up there.’ He shook his head to Daphne’s next question.
‘What was the name of the village?’
‘No sorry can’t help you there. The bloke never said. Now, how about the money in the envelope?’ His greedy eyes shot to Daphne’s handbag.
‘Now then Wayne, this is where we come clean.’ Daphne’s tone changed to sharp and cold as steel. ‘You are not getting a penny for what you told us.’ She watched while his shoulders sagged, just before he raised his face again to open his thin mouth from which a torrent of verbal abuse emerged. Before he had a chance to finish what he was saying, he felt Des’s hand on the back of his neck. With a slow and determined squeezing he found his head being turned to look directly into the face and furious eyes of the sturdy well-built Scottish man.
Des spoke in his best Grampian Police accent. ‘Now see here you. I think my friend Miss James, is due an apology. The language you have just used to her is offensive in anyone’s book.’ Before Wayne had a chance to follow this advice, Des drew him close again. ‘And perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Des Groves, Detective Sergeant Des Groves to be precise.’ He felt Wayne shudder under his grip. ‘And furthermore, I could do you for withholding information, not to mention trying to exhort money from this woman here. So Wayne I think you better just make sure you give me your full name, address, date of birth, etc. etc., as you may be a vital witness to a serious crime.’
Daphne told Des later that she was sure Wayne was going to throw up all over him at any minute, as he had turned a lovely shade of pale green.
Daphne also told the rather good looking detective that she thought they made a great team. They both laughed as they recalled how fast Wayne had left the pub. They were both sure that he would regret phoning her rather than one of the tabloids. They had both agreed that he had got the message and he would be looking over his shoulder if he tried to pass on the information he had given them on to anyone else.
Des had another night booked in the hotel and it just seemed right that he asked Daphne whether she could recommend a good place to eat tonight, and secondly and rather shyly whether she had any plans and if not, would she like to join him for dinner.
He had felt a certain warm glow when she smiled, and said she would be delighted to join him and they agreed a place and a time to meet. Daphne also felt a certain lightness in her step as she made her way to the underground where she would travel home to get ready.
It was over dinner in another rather fashionable but more relaxed restaurant, when they discussed the information Wayne had given them. Both were absolutely certain that the family he had met was the same one as they were seeking. Good news in one way, although really bad news in another.
The first thing both were wondering was how they managed to get passports for the children, as they were certain that the names they were travelling under were not on a birth certificate. Des for one was beginning to be even more concerned about this man, Mike Walker…Paul Bell or whatever his name really was. It was slowly becoming clear that he was living some sort of very devious lifestyle, and this would also mean that he could be able to gain documents which could include false passports.
Daphne agreed. Yes she too had been uneasy when she heard how the woman, Maureen, if that was who she was, was uneasy and seemed wary of this man. It could just be because she was worried about getting out of the country before they got caught. But who the Hell was this man. She asked the question ‘What now? How easy do you think it will be to try and track them down in Spain.’
Des shook his head. ‘Not easy at all.’ In fact he was thinking, almost impossible.
The evening turned out to be a surprisingly very pleasant evening. Both found that the other was so easy to talk to, and soon they stopped talking about the missing children and found themselves telling each other about themselves.
When they parted just after midnight, Des felt awkward not knowing whether he should try and plant a kiss on this attractive woman’s lips. He did not have to consider for long, as Daphne took the initiative and reached up to give him a kiss. Although she had only intended a peck they found their mouths almost welded together for what seemed like a very long and extended moment.
When they drew apart they both had a sense of wow, followed by a moment of shocked embarrassment, ‘Call me’ Daphne said.
‘I certainly will,’ came the astonished reply. And he was astonished. It had been a good while since he had been romantically involved with anyone, and he had no idea when Daphne had walked into his office just those few weeks ago, that she would be the one who would be responsible for sending his stomach into cartwheels.
Just one sobering thought. How the Hell was he going to tell Beth and Marty that the children were no longer in the country?
Chapter 29
Jane Lewis was waiting as Des walked through the arrivals door at Aberdeen Airport. He looked weary Jane thought as she walked towards him.
‘Come on, tell me.’ There was no greeting just the direct words, ‘Just tell me’.
As Jane drove out of the car park Des updated her on the interview with Wayne. ‘So what do we do now?’ she asked.
‘I think there is one thing that we can be certain of, and that is that Inspector Coull won’t agree to us scouring the south of Spain, so we are a bit limited would be my assessment.’
She shook her head. ‘We can pass on the details to Interpol.’
Des nodded, ‘Yes we can, although think about it Jane. I somehow don’t think these children will be top of Interpol’s list, do you? After all, we can’t even say that they are in danger. Firstly, every report we have had has said that they seem fine, healthy, and the woman at least seems to be looking after them properly. Secondly, if we thought trying to find them here was difficult, now it is more like seeking a very small needle in a very large haystack.’
Before they would break the news to Beth, they thought it would be best if they did, at least, speak to Inspector Coull to ask his advice. When they did it was just as they had suspected. They should pass on the information to Interpol who would alert the Spanish police, and then leave it to them. There were plenty of other local cases that needed their assistance.
If their hearts had been heavy then they had become even heavier after Jane returned from her shopping trip with a map of Spain. They had studied the map until they had found the Sierra Nevada area. This was huge mountainous area with numerous small mountain villages scattered all across its range. Needle in a very big haystack was definitely how it was.
Jane phoned Harbour View to let them know they were on their way. She warned Molly, who took the call, that they had news, but it was not positive.
Marty had just returned from work before they arrived and he had his arm around Beth as the two detectives entered the kitchen. They sat on the pine chairs and nodded to Molly that they would indeed be thankful for a cup of tea.
Des recounted the story of his trip to London and his meeting with Daphne and this Wayne fellow. He watched Beth’s face, as the reality of his words penetrated her brain.
‘Now what?’ Marty aske
d.
‘We have passed on the information and request to find them to Interpol. So they maybe will come up with something.’ His voice was not reassuring.
‘You don’t think they will, do you Des?’ Beth found her voice quivering as she asked the question.
‘To be honest with you Beth, I don’t think they will be able to spend very much time and energy looking, so… no. They will no doubt pass it on to the Spanish police, but given the amount of information we have, we have to be realistic. I’m sorry I don’t know what else to do.’
Beth sat up. ‘I know what I am going to do. I am going to Spain to find them.’
‘Oh, Beth, don’t be silly,’ Molly chided. ‘If the police can’t find them, how on earth do you think you will be able to. You don’t even speak the language, and Des has told you the area they are in is massive. Don’t be silly dear.’
Marty was watching Beth’s face and knew that look of sheer determination. Maybe they could go and have a look. They had to do something, didn’t they?
Molly felt as though she was caught up in the eye of a tornado over the next two weeks. Was it just two weeks ago, that Beth made the momentous decision that she was going to go on a mad child hunt across the south of Spain? Of course, Marty was to go with her, no matter what. There would be no way Molly would have allowed her beloved niece-in-law to go without him.
So the plan began to take shape around the kitchen table. Many ideas were considered then reconsidered before they were finally chucked out with the dishwater as being totally unworkable. The idea of a camper van was considered, nevertheless discounted once they pulled the map of Europe out across the table yet again. It was just incredibly far to drive. Molly felt her heart go up into her mouth when she just contemplated the idea of her Marty and his young wife driving all that way, for what? She could still not help thinking it was a fool’s errand. Chasing rainbows, but then who was she to try and convince them otherwise.
Eventually they came up with a plan. Firstly, they would get a flight down to the south of Spain. Then they would hire a car and begin their trip driving up through the mountain villages to make enquiries. How on earth would they make themselves understood Molly had asked them? They could not speak a word of the language. She could just imagine a Spanish person arriving in Torry and trying to find out information. They would not have got very far, no, indeed they would not.
As far as money was concerned, there was no need to worry about this because it was something Molly could sort out for them. She just visited her bank manager and explained everything. While he thought that Miss Paton looked slightly overwrought and her eyes looked slightly brighter than would be considered healthy, he assessed she was still of sound mind. It would take him a few days to release some of her investments, but this would not be a problem. He would advise though that any monies taken abroad would be safer in the form of travellers cheques.
Given that Molly had never ventured overseas, in fact, the furthest she had ever been was Edinburgh, she viewed England as being abroad. Spain seemed like the other side of the world to her. She had marched back to Harbour View and announced with great authority that Mr Mckenzie had informed her that the funds would be released and it would be better to take travellers cheques, and these would be better in sterling rather than pesetas. ‘Whatever they are,’ she added with less authority.
Clearly the money for the trip was there, Marty had spoken to his boss and explained that he would need to leave his job, however there was no way this was going to happen as far as Jake Packard, or Jacques Packard as he preferred to be known, was concerned. Jacque secretly loved his young protégée. When Marty had first walked through his door seeking the possibility of an apprenticeship, he too had fallen into those dark eyes. He, of course, would never have the feeling reciprocated, as Marty was most certainly straight. But Jacques could dream, even though he was, in actual fact, old enough to be the young man’s father. Of course he could not accept his resignation.
Jacque was a middle-aged old queen with a very good reputation for hairdressing and a clientele who would hang on his every word of advice as to how they should try something different. His older middle class and rather bored clientele would boast to each other about the conversations they would have with their flamboyant hairdresser. He would never tell them exactly what he was doing in his personal life, but would just hint enough to have them salivating for just one more detail which they could then let slip at the next coffee morning.
While Jacques’ salon was the centre for rather risky but exciting comment, it was also one of the best hairdressers in Aberdeen. Women loved him and confided in him with passion. Their husbands and other straight men loathed him, and thought his mincing walk was something which should be ridiculed. Poor Jacques, however, was not good at relationships and mostly had rather passionate and brief flings with younger men on his visits to rather exotic destinations across the world. He once, and only once, had a very brief and frightening though erotic experience in a men’s toilet in Aberdeen, which resulted in him making the decision that he would never place himself in a similar position again.
When Marty told him about his next mad plan all he could do was to tell him to take as long as necessary and his job would be waiting for him when he returned. Many of his customers would be stricken with the loss of such a beautiful and gifted young man clipping bits of their hair while they secretly drooled over him. There could be no other option. Of course, Marty needed to go with that fairy-like creature who only had to flutter her eyes and all fell beneath her spell, even he had melted at times and was not quite sure who he was most jealous of. They made such a beautiful couple. They would all have to put up with it, and wish him Godspeed and hope this would not end in more disappointment for the young lad.
Marty was relieved and grateful that Jacques had told him his job was secure. It had worried him slightly that he would have to find new employment when they got back from their travels. He only allowed the slightest thought to enter his head, that he may be having to earn enough to keep two children, one his son and the other the daughter who, although not from his loins, was he decided from his soul and would be claimed by him.
Yet another part of the plan fitted into the jigsaw. They had the money and the space all they had to do was to get there. While they awaited the arrival of their passports they completed their planning. Every evening Marty would return to find another piece of information which Beth had sourced that day. Another Spanish phrase book or another map of Andalusia would be sitting on the already growing pile of necessary items.
Amongst the important documents were the children’s birth certificates. Des had advised them to take these with them, as they would most certainly be needed if and when the children were located. He actually was not convinced himself that they would ever see the light of day, but he would not mention his views to the couple. He was amazed at their resilience and hoped beyond hope that they would be successful on their mission.
Des and Jane had also spent time with the couple going over a plan of what they would do if they were successful in locating the children. Des outlined the pitfalls of their situation, the main one being that they had to realize the children had spent a considerable time with this couple who, however painful it might be for Beth, would most likely be regarded as their parents.
Beth took a deep intake of breath and silently steeled herself with this thought. Of course, Des was right, wee Lucy was only a few months old when she last saw her and was now nearly two. So, yes, she could understand what Des was saying.
Jane, realising how painful the comment Des had made was for Beth, reached over and stroked her arm, consoling her. ‘Although you know it won’t be easy, and there will be people around to help you all.’ She shot a cold penetrating stare at Des.
He continued. ‘Now what you also have to remember is that you will be in a foreign country, and the police will not perhaps understand your predicament. You must whatever you do remember, tha
t if you find them do not go barging in to grab the children. As much as you might want to do so, it may mean that could end up with two very distressed children and also the possibility of you two being arrested and thrown into a Spanish jail on a kidnapping charge.’
Marty nodded; he totally understood where Des was coming from. He had been wondering just exactly what they would do if and when they found them. Oh, he knew what Beth would want to do. She would do exactly what Des had counselled them against doing, rushing in to confront the couple. How he would manage to stop her from doing this, at the moment, he could not fathom.
‘And what do you suggest we do?’ he asked Des.
‘What I suggest is that you telephone us back in Aberdeen, or at least get Daphne’s friends who are meeting you to do so, as they sound as though they have good connections out there. In the meantime, I am going to contact Malaga police and send them information then at least they do have something on record. But it’s Spain, and I don’t exactly know how they function. Keep the telephone numbers with you at all times, and don’t forget to put the international code in front when you phone. Ok?’
