by A L Fraine
“Leave it,” Jon shouted.
“Piss off,” the woman barked.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jake replied.
Jon put one hand up towards Darryl to hold him back as he pulled his warrant card out and showed it to Jake. “Your worst nightmare.”
Jake grimaced.
“Kate, you okay?”
Nodding, she pulled her hand away from her bloody nose. She sniffed and then spat blood onto the grass. “Just peachy. No thanks to this one.”
“Ah, shit, sorry,” Darryl said, looking at her. He seemed to shrink right before Jon’s eyes.
“I’ll survive,” Kate said.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jon asked.
“I… It’s him. I know it is,” Darryl spluttered.
“And getting into a fight with him will make him confess, will it?”
“…well…” Darryl didn’t seem to have an answer.
“Get him in the car,” Jon said to Kate, “and keep him there.”
Kate nodded and grabbed Darryl by the arm before retreating from the garden. Darryl didn’t resist.
Jon watched them go and then turned to look at Jake. “You and I are going to have a little chat.”
“Can’t wait,” Jake replied, looking decidedly unimpressed. He turned and walked back into the house. “You’d better come in, then.”
Jon took one last look back, in time to see Kate shut Darryl in the back seat of their car while she stood outside. She looked back towards Jon and nodded.
He acknowledged her and then walked into Jake’s house. He found Jake and the woman waiting in their front room. Jake was sitting back on the sofa, taking up the space of three people as a couple of bruises started to appear on his face. The woman stood with her arms crossed, staring hard at Jon.
“So what the hell do you want?” she asked.
“Just to talk,” Jon replied and then gestured to a seat. “May I?”
“Whatever.”
Jon took the chair but didn’t relax. Sitting made him seem smaller and less confrontational, which he hoped would help with these two. They were already being hostile towards him.
“My name’s DCI Jon Pilgrim. You’re Jake Slater, right?”
“That’s right,” he replied. “What of it?”
He turned to the woman. “Sherryl Simpson?”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“Hmm. Where were you yesterday morning?” He directed the question at both of them. The pair looked at each other and then back at him.
“Here, I think. All day,” Jake replied.
“Yeah,” Sherryl agreed.
“You’re sure?”
“Course I’m fucking sure,” Jake replied.
“Can anyone confirm that for me?”
Jake pointed to Sherryl, looking unimpressed by Jon’s line of questioning.
“Are you gonna tell us what the hell this is all about?” Sherryl asked.
“There’s been a kidnapping,” Jon replied.
“And what’s that got to do with us?” Jake replied.
Sherryl took a step closer. “It’s because he’s on the register, isn’t it?” the woman spat. “You fucking idiots, he’s not a paedo, he’s not interested in kids, and the bitch that sent him down was fifteen at the time. He didn’t rape Emily, you muppet. She wanted it. You fucking disgust me. You’re always round here, causing trouble, well you can just piss off right now.”
“The boy that was kidnapped was Milo Kay, Emily’s son…your son.”
“Oh…” Sherryl replied, brought up short by Jon’s words. Her face was a picture as she turned to Jake, who wore the same expression, and just blinked for a moment.
“He went missing yesterday between ten and ten-thirty in the morning. Naturally, as you’re his biological father, we needed to come and speak to you.”
“He’s not here,” Jake replied, apparently realising why Jon had come to see him. “I didn’t take him.”
“You thought he took him? That we kidnapped him? You fucking idiots. Go and look round the house, if you like,” Sherryl added. “We ain’t got nuthin’ to hide from you.”
“Um, well…” Jake began to say, looking at her as if to say that wasn’t a great idea.
“Nah,” Sherryl said, speaking over him. “Screw him, thinks he’s clever than us. Go on, knock yourself out, have a look around.”
Jake didn’t look entirely comfortable with that idea, but he said nothing more on the matter.
“I may well do that,” Jon said. “So, you’ve not seen Emily at all since your release? You’ve had no contact with her.”
“No,” Jake answered quickly.
“You’re sure about that?”
“Of course. I think I’d know if I’d met up with my ex. So no, I haven’t seen her.”
“Alright, just wanted to be sure.” Jon wasn’t convinced by the answer at all. He’d replied all too quickly, and looked uncomfortable.
“That’s why he was here causing trouble, wasn’t it?” Sherryl pointed out the front window, meaning Darryl. “That was Emily’s man, right?”
Jon nodded. “Her husband, yes.”
“Fuckin’ bitch. You know she just up and left Jake in the lurch, right? When he was arrested for just being her boyfriend. She just left him and took Milo with her. Didn’t give a shit about him. Didn’t go and see him or worry about him. She’s scum.”
“I take it you did go and see him, then?”
“Yeah, because I’m not a cold-hearted cow.”
As she spoke, a baby started to cry elsewhere in the house. Sherryl sighed and stormed from the room.
“Sebby, did you wake him up?” He heard her shout.
“No!” a child called back. Seconds later, she was making her way upstairs, stomping her feet.
“You have a baby?” Jon asked, surprised.
“Yeah. She got pregnant when I got out two years ago.”
“And then you went back to prison for drugs offences.”
Jake shrugged. “Is Emily okay?” Jake asked, his voice low and full of concern.
“She’s upset,” Jon answered, surprised at Jake’s sudden tenderness. “She wants her boy back.”
Jake nodded, and looked at the faded carpet.
“So, the last time you saw her, or Milo, was when? Before you went to jail?”
He nodded and looked away. “Yeah, I think that’s right. She never came to see me or anything. I’ve tried to reach out to her—he is my son, after all—but she doesn’t want to hear from me.”
“You put her through a lot,” Jon replied.
“That’s your opinion, man. She wanted to try those drugs and she wanted a fucking baby. I didn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to.”
“Are you still on drugs? Do you still use?”
“No,” Jake replied but didn’t expand on the point. He refused to look at Jon as he answered. He was lying.
“I see.” Jon pointed to the ceiling. “And they’re both yours?”
He sighed. “I had an affair with Sherryl when I was dating Emily, got her pregnant within months of Emily.”
“So, you have two children with Sherryl?”
“That’s right,” he answered.
“And he’s been a good father to both of them,” Sherryl said, walking in, holding a baby in her arms. “So don’t let that cow tell you otherwise. Jake is a great dad.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Jon answered.
“See that you do,” she answered.
Jon nodded. “I’ll take that tour of your house now.”
“Mi casa, su casa,” Jake said and waved a hand in the air.
Jon took a walk around the house, taking in the ground floor first, looking for any hint that Milo was, or had been, here. In the downstairs washroom, he spotted some foil, a spoon and a lighter, as well as some residue on the side.
Drugs. He frowned. Jake had said he wasn’t using. Was he lying? And if so, what else might be b
y lying about? Jon was willing to bet that if he had this place properly searched, he’d find all kinds of things, but that’s not why he was here. He’d pass on his findings to the relevant people, but for now, his focus had to be on Milo.
With a grunt, Jon left the bathroom behind. He looked through the final room and the garden before heading up the stairs.
Popping his head into a bedroom that obviously belonged to a child, judging from the drawings Blu-Tac’ed to the outside, Jon nearly did a double-take as he looked down at the boy playing Lego on the floor.
His dark, messy hair and slim frame, mixed with similar features to Milo, had Jon momentarily thinking that he’d suddenly solved the case and stumbled upon the missing child.
“Sebby?” Jon asked, quickly realising that this wasn’t Milo at all. He just had the same father.
“Yeah?”
Jon narrowed his eyes and glanced back down the stairs. Neither parent was in view, so he chose to take advantage of the opportunity that presented itself.
Pulling a photo of Milo up on his phone, he showed it to Sebby. “Do you know this boy?” He hoped the innocence of a young child would play in his favour.
“Who’s that?” Sebby asked.
“His name is Milo. He’s your age, and someone has taken him away from his mum and dad. I’m looking for him and asking everyone if they’ve seen him because I want to bring him home. I was just wondering if you might be able to help me?”
Sebby glanced down at the photo and then back up. “Sure, I’ll help.”
“That’s great, Sebby. All I need to know is, have you seen him before?”
“Erm,” the boy said, frowning as he looked at the image. “No. I don’t think so. But, he looks like me.”
Jon nodded. “Yes, he does. Okay, well, if you see him, can you make sure you tell me?”
The boy shrugged. “Okay. How do I do that?”
“Tell your parents or a policeman.”
“Okay,” he replied with a smile.
“Thank you, Sebby. I appreciate it.”
Sebby smiled and returned to his game as Jon finished his sweep. He found nothing else of use or interest. Returning to the top of the stairs, he looked down to see Sherryl looking up.
“Done yet?” she asked.
“Done,” Jon confirmed as he descended.
“Good. So what are you gonna do with that twat out there?”
“We’ll deal with him.”
“See that you do.”
Jake appeared in the door to the lounge. “He thought I’d taken him, didn’t he?”
Jon shrugged.
“Tell him to keep away, because if he comes back again, I’m gonna flatten him.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Jon replied. “Might I suggest that while this investigation is ongoing, you keep out of trouble and don’t leave the county?”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Sherryl replied, mimicking his tone.
Jon handed them his card, said goodbye and stepped outside.
13
Nathan pulled his car up outside a small but well-kept house between Epsom and Cheam. He gazed out at the property, checking the address against the printed-out details in the file.
He wondered if this was a long shot and he was perhaps chasing ghosts from thirteen years ago that wouldn’t lead him anywhere useful. Certainly, his superiors back then thought so after he’d spent hours on this particular line of enquiry.
So did the victim’s family, which was why he’d been forced to stop.
It had been a long time since he’d last seen Rory Wescott. He’d been a teenager back then, the older brother of Ben, the first child to be kidnapped and killed. Rory’s parents had soon lost patience with Nathan and his constant visits as he kept digging and asking questions but never getting anywhere.
Was he likely to get anywhere today? He didn’t hold out much hope, but he had to try. He had to scratch that itch and see what happened.
Gathering his stuff off the seat beside him, he got out, walked to the front door, and knocked.
Moments later, a tall, thin man in his early thirties opened the door.
“Yes?”
“Hello,” Nathan replied and held up his warrant card. “I’m Inspector Halliwell with the Police. Are you Rory? We spoke on the phone earlier?”
“Oh yes. Actually, I recognise you. Nathan, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. I’m surprised you remember me.”
He shrugged. “You left quite the impression.”
“Aaah, I suppose I might have.”
“Please, come in. I’ll make us some drinks. Tea?”
Nathan accepted the offer and followed him into the kitchen. “How have you been?”
“I’m fine,” Rory replied. “I mean, it happened a long time ago. I think about Ben sometimes. I’ve got some photos of him around but, it’s not as raw as it used to be.”
“Of course,” Nathan replied. “And, I’m sorry if I dredge up any emotions. I don’t want to cause you any pain.”
“You didn’t upset me back then, so I doubt you will now. My parents, however… Yeah. I think they were a little more annoyed with you.”
“I remember,” Nathan said. “They were a little pissed.”
“I remember the shouting,” Rory replied with a smile. “Yeah, that was my parents.”
“How are they?”
“Separated,” Rory said, and shrugged. “The loss of Ben was too much. They blamed each other and just couldn’t resolve their differences. They tried for a while, but it didn’t last.”
“I’m sorry,” Nathan said.
“That’s okay. Wasn’t your fault. You were only trying to help.” He passed him the tea before they both took a seat at the table. “So, you’re still in the police?”
“I am.”
“And still a DI? Or are you a DCI now?”
Nathan smiled as the history of his rise and fall flashed before his eyes. “That’s a long story, but I’m a DI right now.”
“Okay,” Rory replied, thankfully sensing that Nathan didn’t want to talk about it, and changing the subject. “How can I help you, officer?”
“Well, have you been watching the news recently?”
“Some.”
“Are you aware of the missing boy from Epsom?”
“Yeah. Those cases tend to stick out for me…” Rory paused, and a sudden realisation washed over him, and his face dropped. “Oh, do you mean…?”
“We think he’s back,” Nathan said. There was no need to beat around the bush about this. Just rip the plaster off and get to the point. “The boy is the son of Emily, the girl who survived.”
“Shit. Oh, um, sorry, language.” He put a hand to his mouth.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan brushed it off. “So anyway, I’ve been looking back into the old case, and I found my old notes about Ben and how he seemed so different to the others. I still think there’s something there, something about him. I don’t know what, but I just wanted to go through a few things with you, see if I can jog your memory about what happened and see if anything sticks out.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll try. It was a long time ago, but okay. What do you mean by different?”
“All the other kids, they were from less privileged backgrounds. They spent hours out on the streets. Their parents didn’t keep them on a tight leash or care for them. Not as much as how your parents took care of Ben.”
“Ben wasn’t anything unusual. We were just a normal family, middle class. We didn’t have much money,” Rory protested.
“And yet, you were living in another world compared to most of the other victim’s families.”
“Oh.”
“Exactly. It just didn’t fit to me back then, and still doesn’t. Now, back then, it could have been down to a lack of experience on my part, like my superiors suggested thirteen years ago, but I don’t think so. Could Ben be significant in some other way? He went to substantially greater lengths to kidna
p Ben than the others.”
“Like, how?”
“That is what I’m here to work out,” Nathan said. “I remembered you were always happy to answer my questions back then, and thought you might again today?”
“Unlike my parents.”
“Indeed.”
They proceeded to go through the file he’d brought with him, listing facts, movements and clues, putting them to Rory to see what he remembered from the case and if anything stuck out to him as odd or pertinent. They went through the events of the day itself, where they all were and how Ben got taken. Nathan also dug into the family's past, looking for any hint or clue that could help him. Did he, Ben or their parents have any enemies or do anything to someone that might make them want to hurt or take Ben?
But once again, just like it had been thirteen years ago, Nathan found himself hitting dead end after dead end, until he finally ran out of angles to look at this from.
“What’s that?” Rory said, pointing at a sheet of paper that Nathan had placed to one side while they’d been talking. He looked over. It was the transcript from the call they believed came from the killer.
For a moment, he considered whether or not to show it to him. They’d not released it to the public and hadn’t even mentioned it to the press. He nearly said it was nothing and put it away, but then reconsidered.
“We asked for people to come forward if they knew anything, and someone called us, claiming to be the killer. That’s a transcript of the call.”
“Is it him?” Rory asked, looking hesitant.
Nathan gave a slow nod. “We think so.”
“Oh…”
He could see the look in Rory’s eyes. He was both curious and repulsed. This was a direct link to the killer of his younger brother and all the mixed up, painful emotions that came with it.
“Do you want to read it?” Nathan asked. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not, but they needed all the help they could get. He wasn’t about to force him if he didn’t want to, though.
Rory hesitated, and after a long moment, gave a curt nod. “Yes. I think so.”
Nathan slid the sheet of paper over. Rory took a moment to steel himself before he took a deep breath, looked down and read the transcript.
Towards the end, Rory raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
