Captive Reaction

by Dawn Marsanne

  ‘What sort of trauma?’

  ‘Difficult to say, again due to the effect of the fire. But X-ray examination did show some slight markings on the eye socket as if something had been pushed into the eye. It will be difficult to tell whether he sustained any other injuries. Again dental records may prove definitive in identification. There are several teeth missing and many amalgam fillings.’

  Alistair paused and looked over at the policemen.

  ‘Thank you, doctor. When will we receive your full reports?’

  ‘Oh, in a day or so I should think. Then we can decide what further examinations you need me to action. You might have identified them by then from your enquiries.’

  The detectives left the room and stripped off their protective gear. The pathologist and his assistant would continue to examine the bodies and remove any internal organs and take samples. It was possible the brains could still yield some useful DNA samples. Now it was time to check missing persons and any other crimes which had recently been reported to see if by chance there was any connection. It was a depressing business but hopefully, they would be able to provide closure to the relatives of the dead.

  **

  RB had been in turmoil since Lee’s phone had been answered by the person he knew only as Jed and who was one of Cole’s senior lieutenants. He was a ruthless and callous criminal, known for his cruelty who would stop at nothing to protect his reputation and to remain outside the clutches of the police. He was now certain that Lee had been neutralised by Jed who had probably been actioned to clear up any weak links in the chain who might be tempted to sing to the police. What should he do? He could go to the police and confess and then face numerous years in gaol for drug dealing and other offences. What if they could link him to the vicious assault on the man they had presumed to be Dan? Greed had driven him to think that accessing Cole’s network of drug dealing would somehow help him achieve the big time. All he had done was to sign his own death warrant. Cole had remained untouchable for so many years it was madness to think that his own testimony might somehow smash open his illegal activities. RB had been mulling all this over whilst taking some of his own drug supplies washed down with a generous helping of vodka. He was losing the ability to think straight but at least his nerves had calmed slightly.

  He jumped up from his bed and decided that the best option was to pack up and flee to London. He had some mates there who might take him in for a few days until he could get himself established. Surely there would be a niche somewhere for him in the drugs market. His possessions were few and he only rented a room in a shared house. He would take with him what he could but the rest of his shabby accumulated possessions could stay behind. His housemates could help themselves. He grabbed his large rucksack and began to empty drawers and cupboards of his clothes and bundles of ready cash which he had stowed away. From under his bed, he dragged out a holdall which was covered in dust and fluff. He wiped it down as best he could and continued to pack up other items. Some CDs, a tablet, a small netbook, earphones and jewellery both stolen and taken in part payment from his clients to feed their addiction. Those items he planned to sell at the appropriate time.

  He did a final check of the remainder he couldn’t manage to take and using a chair checked on top of the wardrobe in case there was anything else he’d hidden up there and forgotten about. He substituted a few items of clothes and sat down and looked at the two bags. There were only a few items left and it was a depressing sight that most of what he owned or possessed could fit into two bags. There was only one more thing to pack. He pulled back the rug covering the centre of the room and using his knife prised up a loose floorboard. Hidden in a gap between the floor and the ceiling of the flat below were four packets containing white powder. The packets weighed around two hundred grams. He found an old carrier bag wrapped them again before stowing them at the bottom of his rucksack. He rammed the half bottle of vodka into his rucksack and put on his coat and baseball hat. He put the rucksack on his back, picked up his holdall and ran down the stairs.

  Over the last hour or so he’d been scanning the road to check whether he could see anyone loitering or any cars that had been parked for a while with occupants within but the coast appeared to be clear. The station was about a half hour walk away and he should easily be able to catch the half-past six train to London. He’d bought a single ticket online so just had to collect it from the ticket machine. His stomach was anxious about the leap into the unknown but he’d moved around before. Surely he would be more anonymous in London than in Persford.

  He walked briskly along Clements Road, then turned into Denmark Avenue. His eyes scanned all around his senses alert to any footsteps approaching or suspicious figures. He could feel his heart racing and at times he felt light-headed but he could not afford to stop or slow down. He reached an alleyway by a house which was being renovated. The rear doors of the van were open and a couple of young men were loading some bags of what looked like building rubble into the back. The van was parked across the alleyway with two wheels on the pavement.

  Suddenly RB froze. He looked at the men to see whether he recognised any of them but they were turned away from him busy with their job. Was he being paranoid? He now wished he’d not drunk all that vodka or taken another hit of drugs before he left. His senses were heightened to breaking point, his heart was racing. Was this a trap? Jed might know where he lived and suspect he might flee to London. What should he do? If he took a longer route he would miss his train.

  He stood for a few moments and took out his phone. Surely if they had recognised him and were after him they would have made a move by then. No, they were just doing a job he told himself, this was ridiculous, he needed to pull himself together. He put his phone away and stepped into the road to get past the van. As he got level with it one of the men stepped out in front of him. RB had to stifle a shriek of terror. He faced the young man in front of him, feeling in his other pocket for his knife.

  ‘Got a light mate?’ said the man in front of him, producing a cigarette from behind his ear. RB seemed rooted to the spot, his mouth seemed unable to function.

  ‘A light? Got one?’ the man repeated.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ and RB produced a disposable lighter. He lit the cigarette and put the lighter back in his pocket.

  ‘Are you OK?’ said the builder.

  ‘Yes, fine, in a bit of a rush, that’s all.’ RB nodded and carried on his way. He tripped over an uneven paving stone and just managed to regain his balance. He could smell his sweat drifting up from his body. It was true you really could smell fear. Now he knew that he’d made the right decision to seek anonymity in London. He would never be able to live in Persford looking over his shoulder all the time. If he were to stay he felt sure that one day he might suffer the same fate as his friend Lee.

  Chapter 47

  Brett’s first two meetings with the finance houses had been very encouraging. He’d updated Matt that there seemed to be considerable interest. As it was a fine day he decided to walk the mile or so to the wine bar. He had a general idea of the route but had his phone ready with the map of the area should he get lost.

  The Yarrow Wine Bar looked very smart with prices to match he assumed. It was only to be expected that city types would frequent somewhere to match their generous salaries. He just hoped that they would be able to recognise each other. He’d sent them a picture of himself, it was no secret, he was on Facebook and on the promotional material from PerzSolve. Strangely they hadn’t reciprocated but had merely thanked him and said that they would be able to spot him. Brett arrived in good time at the wine bar and ordered himself a tonic water before choosing a table towards the rear of the establishment but in clear view of the door. He would certainly have a few drinks tonight but he wanted to keep a clear head in order to get his main points across at the start of the meeting. Once things appeared to be settled and some tentative agreement reached then that would be the time to relax and enjoy a few glasses of wine.
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  He fiddled nervously with his phone and checked in his briefcase several times that he had the necessary documents. The place was comfortably full but not packed so they shouldn’t have to shout in order to make themselves heard. There was music playing but it wasn’t too loud which was a relief and the subdued lighting created a relaxing atmosphere. Brett saw that his clients ought to be appearing at any time so he sipped at his drink and kept his eyes trained on the door. About five minutes after the agreed time he noticed two young suited men enter, chatting to one another and rather than go straight up to the bar they scanned the room. Brett felt that it could be Jake and Theo but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself by raising his hand so he waited to see whether they came over. After a few seconds, recognition dawned on their faces and they made their way towards him. Brett stood as they approached.

  ‘Dr Chandler?’

  ‘Brett, please, yes, great to meet you!’

  ‘Jake Marsfield’ said the taller of the two.

  ‘Theo Henchard.’

  ‘Well, thanks for agreeing to meet up. Lovely place here. Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll get us some drinks,’ said Theo, ‘and what else would you like? You two can have a chat.’

  ‘Oh, well, a glass of Shiraz please,’ said Brett.

  ‘Coming up, I won’t be long.’

  Brett estimated the men to be about the same age as him. He had initially thought them to be younger but on closer inspection he could see some laughter lines around Jake’s eyes and some flecks of grey in his hair.

  ‘So, how was your journey? How long does it take from Persford?’ said Jake, slipping off his suit jacket and folding it carefully on the seat beside him.

  ‘Just over an hour, it’s a good service, providing they aren’t on strike,’ joked Brett. He was pleased that the wine would be arriving soon as he was starting to feel slightly nervous. He wished that Matt had accompanied him.

  Theo returned with the drinks and Brett thanked him. He put it on one side until he had finished his tonic water.

  ‘So, have you invested in venture capital previously?’ asked Brett.

  ‘Oh, a few times,’ replied Jake, vaguely.

  ‘So do you have your own company or work for a firm, Theo?’ said Brett casually.

  ‘It’s my own business, Ventura Advisory,’ said Theo.

  ‘And have you done this for long?’

  ‘Not that long, no, but it’s going well. We have quite a few wealthy clients in addition to Jake, which is why I came along,’ said Theo.

  ‘Where are you based?’

  ‘Oh, not far from here, Shoreditch. Do you know it?’

  ‘No, not really,’ replied Brett who felt that the conversation was becoming rather stilted and he seemed to be interviewing them, so he decided to switch tack and start his pitch for PersCure.

  ‘Well, down to business I guess. Now, I’d like to hand you our latest brochure. I know we emailed you some information but I think it’s always good to have some hard copy details as well.’

  ‘Great, thanks,’ said both Jake and Theo, almost in unison.

  They flicked through the pages and examined some of the figures showing projected returns and market share. Brett checked his phone whilst they looked at the information. He didn’t want to appear too eager and give them the hard sell lest that should put them off. It was important not to look too desperate he felt.

  ‘Well, it all looks very impressive,’ said Jake. ‘I must say I’m very interested indeed. This looks like a really good fit for venture capital. High risk but high reward.’

  ‘Well, my partner and I certainly think so. I’m afraid Matt couldn’t make it tonight, he’s meeting some other potential investors. We have to share out the workload to make sure we meet all interested parties in a timely fashion.’

  ‘Sure, sure, have you had much interest?’

  ‘Oh, lots, and I think that this is a testament to the excitement in this new therapy. It really could be a game-changer.’

  ‘Well, perhaps it’s time to talk figures?’

  Brett nodded and indicated for them to go ahead.

  ‘I am thinking of an initial investment of two hundred thousand. But we also wanted to broach the subject of taking an equity stake in the company in addition to venture capital investment. If that were possible we might well be looking at further tranches of investment of up to say a million.’

  Brett was stunned. This was incredible. The minimum investment was around a hundred thousand and he and Matt had wondered whether they would need to reduce this amount if there wasn’t sufficient interest.

  ‘Well, that’s, amazing,’ said Brett, realising that he sounded a bit too surprised. ‘I mean, well, that’s great that you are willing to invest amounts similar to our other major investors. ’

  Brett wondered whether he detected a surreptitious glance between the two men but perhaps Theo was just eyeing up the stunning brunette who had just walked into the wine bar.

  ‘The subject of private equity has still to be ironed out but now that we have an idea of your interest we can get to work with our business advisors and we’ll get back to you. So we’ll be in touch with your administration staff and we can exchange details of bank transfers and so on.’

  ‘Well, you can contact me directly, you’ve got my details,’ said Jake.

  ‘Obviously we need to complete due diligence procedures to check that there’s no money laundering involved!’ Brett laughed.

  There was a slight pause before Jake replied, ‘Of course.’

  ‘Great, all sounds good,’ said Brett, smiling. ‘Now perhaps you would like to visit the set-up in Persford, meet the scientists, that sort of thing?’

  ‘Can we get back to you on that?’ said Jake, ‘Things are rather hectic at the moment.’

  ‘Sure, sure, no rush, just drop me a line.’

  ‘Right, now drink up,’ said Jake, ‘I think we could do with another round. Same again?’

  So the deal looked to be taking shape. All parties seemed contented. Brett drank his Shiraz which was extremely smooth and went down really easily. He couldn’t wait to tell Matt how he had secured such a large slice of finance. He might embellish the story here and there to make it seem that his smooth talk had been the deciding factor. He would never have imagined that it would be so easy.

  Chapter 48

  Erin had taken the bus into Persford and was waiting in the reception at Bank Street police station. That evening she had returned once more to an empty flat. There was no sign of Scott and for nearly forty-eight hours now she’d been unable to contact him. No texts, no contact from him and all her calls remaining unanswered and connecting to voicemail. Perhaps he’d lost his phone but in that case, why had he not suspended the number on his handset? Something had happened to him, she was sure. The sergeant had taken her name and the details of her missing person and she had been told that someone would speak to her shortly.

  ‘Ms Jones? I’m Sergeant Donna Peters, please come this way?’

  They made their way up some stairs and along a grey painted corridor and into a small room containing a couple of chairs and a table. Erin was ushered to a seat and Donna sat opposite her.

  ‘Now, I’d like to take some details about your boyfriend, Scott Briggs.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, he’s not been home for two nights now and I can’t contact him by phone. I’m sure something has happened to him!’ and Erin started to cry.

  ‘Now let’s take things one step at a time, Ms Jones,’ and Donna paused whilst Erin tried to compose herself.

  ‘Sorry, I’m just so worried about him,’

  ‘Now, does Mr Briggs have a job?’

  ‘Well, he has several, I’m not sure exactly, this and that, Casual sort of work.’

  ‘Can you be more specific?’

  ‘Not really, he didn’t really tell me much about his work. Sometimes he did deliveries, he mentioned those.’

  ‘Oh, so he was a couri
er then. Which company did he work for?’

  ‘He didn’t work for a company. He did worked for different people. I don’t know their names.’

  Sergeant Peters was beginning to get the picture. Scott was obviously engaged in illicit employment and most likely had a criminal record. She would check his name through the system as soon as this interview was concluded.

  ‘From what you can see in your flat, has Scott taken anything with him, clothes, personal possessions that kind of thing?’

  ‘Nothing, he’s just vanished.’

  Erin was in a difficult spot. She knew that Scott’s disappearance could be connected to the recent events at the university. She knew all about the pressure being applied to Dan and Lee’s connection to someone powerful although she didn’t know who it was. She had to keep quiet about leaking the information from the university or she would be facing the sack. On her way there this evening she had gone through things in her mind and told herself she must be careful not to let anything slip, otherwise she could land herself in hot water.

  ‘I see. Well from what you’ve told me, there’s not a lot we can do at the moment. We don’t have any evidence of foul play apart from his phone being lost or possibly stolen. Sometimes people just want to have a fresh start.’

  ‘But we loved each other! He wouldn’t just leave me like that, I know he wouldn’t. You’ve got to start looking for him!’ Erin was a pathetic sight, her makeup was now completely smudged.

  ‘But where do you suggest? We have nothing to work with. I suggest you go home and when you remember something else, phone this number and I’ll take the details.’ Donna handed her a card with her own number and the general number of the police station.

  Erin took it and held it. Tears were still running down her cheeks. Donna did feel sorry for the girl. She was going to suggest she had a cup of tea in the waiting area and then went home.

  ‘Wait a minute. I’ve just thought of something! He was working with a guy called Lee Percival. He works at The Flamingo Club. Lee said he’d some work for Scott and if he did a good job it could help him better himself, sort of thing.’