The Vanishing Child: A gripping crime thriller with a climax you won't see coming (Detective Arla Baker Series Book 9)

by ML Rose

  “Keep your arms around me, okay? Don’t let go. If you fall, you’ll get hurt.”

  Emmanuel gaped at him. “If I fall, I’ll cry?”

  Charlie had to smile. “Yes. But don’t worry, you won’t fall. I’ve got you.”

  Emmanuel did as he was told. With some difficulty, and banging his head and knees against the confines of the window, Charlie was able to get inside the library. He sat Emmanuel down at a grand old leather chair. The boy looked around him in wonder. The ceilings were high, and bookshelves filled with gnarly old leather-bound tomes covered every wall.

  "Where are we?" Emmanuel asked.

  Charlie closed the window and then knelt in front of Emmanuel.

  "It's a castle."

  Emmanuel's mouth fell open. "Really?"

  "Yes."

  Emmanuel looked around him in confusion. His lips quivered, then he started to cry. "I want my mummy."

  Charlie sighed. "We are going to see mummy now. Come on." He picked Emmanuel up, and carried him across the library floor.

  He had to walk to the other end of the large space. Charlie stopped at the north-eastern corner, in front of a floor to ceiling bookshelf. The wood was worn out, and rotten in places. The pile of books looked as if they had been there for centuries.

  Charlie put Emmanuel down, then focused on the bookshelf. He skimmed down the volumes, till he came to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. At Volume number 15 Charlie stopped. He took out his phone, and checked the directions he had been given. With a deep breath, he pressed the book. At first, nothing happened. Charlie frowned, then dug his heels into the book's spine and pushed harder.

  There was a screeching sound, and then several levers clicked at once. The book slid inside, and revealed a compartment in the wall. Charlie took out his torch and flashed the beam. Through the cobwebs, he could see the indistinct shape of a black object.

  With a gloved hand, he removed the cobwebs. A black handle was sticking out of the wall. Charlie depressed the handle. There was a groaning sound, and the whole wall started to shake. He withdrew his hand quickly.

  The groaning continued, and behind him Emmanuel squealed in fright. Charlie put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm the boy. The vibration continued. With a series of shuddering movements, the bookshelf was moving to the left.

  Finally, it revealed a doorway in the wall. The old wooden doorway was thick and stout, with a brass handle on it. Charlie depressed the handle, and pulled. After a few hearty tugs, the door gave way with a splintering sound. A cloud of dust descended on Charlie, making him sneeze and wave his hands. He flashed his torchlight inside the black cavity that had opened up.

  There was a small landing, then a stairwell which was swallowed into the darkness below. Charlie knew the stairs led down into the tunnels. He smiled.

  "Bingo."

  CHAPTER 53

  Arla didn't sleep well in the admittedly comfortable hospital bed. She spent the night tossing and turning. She dreamt Nicole was being taken away by a figure in a black hooded coat. Nicole was crying and screaming her name, and the figure had clamped a hand over her face. Her eyelids flew open, to find daylight seeping in past the blinds of the ward windows. Arla sat upright, and put a hand to her chest. Her heart was thudding loudly, and sweat cascaded down her forehead.

  She felt a tickling in her throat and coughed. She poured a glass of water from the jug on her bedside table and drank it. She was sleeping in her hospital gown, and her eyes fell on her business suit, neatly folded in the small cupboard by her bedside. Her phone had been charging overnight, and she scrolled through it. She stopped short when she got to the news headlines.

  "Baroness's grandson kidnapped from Hyde Park," ran one tabloid headline.

  "Nanny caught napping in the park, boy disappears," shouted another one.

  Arla muttered under her breath. This was a media relations disaster. She picked up a phone and rang Harry. From his groggy voice she knew he'd just woken up too.

  “How’s Nicole?”

  “Sleeping in her cot, next to me. I picked her up last night.”

  Arla pressed two fingers to her forehead. “I miss her so much. Give her a kiss from me. I need to see her today, Harry. Please come and get me.”

  “I will,” Harry said, then made a kissing sound down the line.

  She told him about the headlines. He swore under his breath.

  "Someone leaked the news."

  "Won't be anyone on our team," Arla said. "But there were people in the park, the Parks police are involved, and there's also the staff at the Pitt household."

  "Harry yawned. "Yes, it could be anyone. You know how much the tabloids would pay for a story like this."

  "I'm calling media liaison now. I'll see you at the station. What will you do with Nicole?"

  "I’ll drop her off with mum. I think she is best there for a couple of days, don't you?"

  Arla felt guilty as hell, and she missed her daughter like mad. But at the same time, she needed to find Emmanuel. She could only imagine what Rochelle was going through, not to mention Sandra.

  “Please come and get me, Harry. I need to see Nic, and then go to the station.”

  She hung up, despite Harry's protestations. She put the oxygen mask on and took a few deep breaths. Then she went to the bathroom, and got dressed. She looked tired, with dark bags under her eyes. Well, make up would have to wait. She tied her hair into a ponytail and asked the nurse at the desk to check her out. She had to sign a document to say that she was leaving against medical advice.

  She was having breakfast in the canteen when Harry arrived with Nicole. Arla swept her into a tight embrace. It was so nice to hold Nicole again. Her daughter had the usual serious expression on her face, which made her laugh and cry at the same time.

  “Why are you crying, mummy?”

  “I’m just so happy to see you,” Arla said, kissing her.

  Nicole shook her head. “No. You don’t cry when you see me after work. Why now?”

  Harry said, “Come here. Let mummy finish her breakfast.”

  “No,” Arla said. She wasn’t letting go of Nicole that easily. She held her daughter to one side, and ate with the fork in her right hand.

  They drove to Rita’s house and dropped Nicole off. They were halfway to the station when Johnson rang. Harry put the call on the loudspeaker.

  "Have you seen the papers?" He thundered.

  "Yes, I have sir," Arla said patiently. "I'm going to meet media liaison now."

  "We need to arrange a press conference quickly. I'll be at the station as well. Anything new to report?"

  "No updates from Kent police or the coastguard, sir. As soon as I hear anything, I will let you know."

  “I’ve got the Commissioner breathing down my neck, Arla. Even the Prime Minister’s Office have asked for an update. I need to tell them something!” Johnson yelled the last sentence.

  “I’m on my way in, sir. In case you’ve forgotten, I was almost burnt alive yesterday.”

  Johnson sighed down the line. “I’m sorry about that. Look, we just need to get this boy back. ASAP.”

  “We will sir. Let me do my job, and you keep the politicians at bay.”

  “Okay. But I can’t hold them forever. There’s already talk of asking MI5. Don’t let me down, Arla.”

  Arla reassured Johnson again, then hung up. She really wasn't looking forward to a press conference.

  She would let Johnson handle that. She closed her eyes, thinking about where Charlie could be. In fact, the more she considered it, the more she realised Harry might be right. Charlie could only hide in mainland UK for so long. His photo was already at most police stations in the country. A man with a five-year-old boy wouldn't be hard to spot. Sooner or later, Charlie would have to make a move to go abroad.

  The taxi pulled up at the front entrance of Clapham police station. Arla paid the man and ran up the steps. The duty sergeant was surprised to see her.

  "Guv, aren't you supposed to b
e in hospital?"

  Arla grinned. "Evidently not. Honestly, I'm fine."

  The sergeant buzzed her in through the bullet-proof sliding doors. Arla walked down the corridor, and into the detective's open plan office. The place was a hive of activity, as she had expected. Printers and fax machines hummed; low voices chattered. All heads lifted to stare at her. Rob stood from his desk and stepped forward. He repeated what the duty sergeant had just said. Arla waved him away.

  "Don't worry Rob, this is more important." She turned to Gita and Rosslyn. "Any news from Kent police?"

  “Waiting for an update, guv.”

  “You should be in hospital, or resting at home guv,” Lisa’s voice said from behind her.

  “I’m fine. I really am,” she mustered a smile, but her team’s collective countenance remained grim. Arla said, “Johnson wants a press conference. Did the CCTV footage around Charlie’s flat give any indication of the car he escaped in?”

  “No,” Rob said. “But Parmentier just called. They tested the bottle of carrot juice from Natalie’s car. It has a heavy concentration of aconite. It was half empty, so she must’ve drunk some of it.”

  “Okay,” Arla said. “When we get proof from Dr Corrigan that aconite was present in both victim’s stomachs, we have an iron clad prosecution. Now to find Charlie.”

  She turned to Harry. “I want to interrogate Shirley Linklater. Before we do anything else.” Harry nodded and walked off. Arla faced the rest of her team.

  “Keep pressing Kent Police and the Coast Guard. And London traffic control. Charlie must’ve been spotted around his flat at some point. I want the images.”

  Arla finished the rest of her coffee and paused, feeling short of breath. She was tired, but also determined not to show it. Gita came up to her and whispered.

  “Guv, do you want my make up kit? It’s in my bag. I got dark mascara like the one you wear.”

  Arla gave her a grateful smile. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course, guv. I’ll come with you.”

  Arla spent ten minutes in the loo, and came out feeling a little better. Harry was waiting for her outside Interview Room 1.

  Shirley didn’t have a lawyer. She had waived the need for one, which Arla didn’t mind. It was reassuring in a way. Guilty suspects always asked for a lawyer first.

  Shirley looked bedraggled, her hair tied up in knots, her face pale. A pretty girl, Arla thought. Red hair that came down in curls past her shoulder, and greenish eyes that were now demure and downcast.

  Harry introduced everyone for the machine, and started the tape rolling. Shirley glanced at Arla, then down at her hands.

  “You know what’s happening, Shirley, don’t you?” Arla asked. The girl nodded. She wouldn’t look Arla in the eye.

  “Listen to me, Shirley. I know you weren’t his accomplice. If you were, he wouldn’t have left you there. He knows you’re being questioned by us.”

  Shirley’s face crumpled. She covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed. “I’m sorry. He just seemed like such a nice man. I thought I had a future with him.”

  Arla gave her some time to regain her composure. She offered her a packet of tissues, and a glass of water. Shirley sniffed, then wiped her nose.

  “So, things between you were getting serious?”

  “Yes. We had been seeing each other for three months. He met my parents when they came to stay with me. They liked him, but I now realise Charlie is very good at charming people.”

  “He took you to Dover castle, right?”

  “Yes. My parents live there. That’s where I’m from.”

  Arla raised her eyebrows and felt Harry stiffen next to her. She exchanged a quick glance with him. Her heart skipped a beat. This was new information, and they both knew it was vital. It was good to have Harry back, next to her.

  Harry asked, “Did Charlie stay with your parents?”

  “Yes, that’s where I live, just outside Dover.”

  “Did he want to visit the castle, or did you take him?”

  “A bit of both really. I used to work in the castle before I moved to London.”

  “What did you do there?”

  “I worked in maintenance. Looking after the old building basically. The castle has several wings in the inner circle. That’s where I worked.”

  Arla leaned forward, her heart thudding. “Any part of the castle that Charlie was interested in? Anything you can remember?”

  Shirley bit her lower lip and frowned. “Yes, there was actually. The castle has tunnels. A couple of them lead into the caves that open into wild beaches. These tunnels were used in the second world war by navy units stationed at the castle. He was interested in them. A lot, actually.”

  “Did he mention why?”

  Shirley thought for a few seconds, then her eyes brightened. “Oh god. I just remembered. He asked me once if I would run away with him, like in a romantic way. He could sail from one of the wild beaches.”

  “The beaches accessed by these tunnels?” Shirley nodded.

  Harry asked, “Do you know where the tunnels are?”

  “Yes, everyone does,” Shirley nodded. “By everyone, I mean only those who work in the old wing’s maintenance department. It’s forbidden to the public. There’s a secret entrance to the tunnels. It’s behind a bookshelf in the library of the inner circle.”

  Harry asked, “And these tunnels lead into the wild beaches?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the secret entrance behind the bookshelf still in use?”

  Shirley shrugged. “Not very often. But it is checked, maybe once or twice a year. The public isn’t allowed to see it.” She stared down at her hands. “And I’m not allowed to talk about it either. But Charlie was very keen-

  “And you showed him,” Arla completed for her. She held up her hands. “Please don’t worry. You weren’t to know what his plans were.”

  Shirley covered her head with her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so sorry.”

  Arla was breathing rapidly. “Shirley, you need to help us now, to get Emmanuel back. If I show you a map of the castle, can you show me exactly where this bookshelf in the library is?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Harry was already scrolling through his phone. Arla squeezed closer to him. After a few hits and misses, they found a web page with a map of the castle. Arla gave the phone to Shirley, then stood behind her.

  Shirley enlarged the image with two fingers, then moved it around. Then her finger stopped.

  “Here is the library,” she said.

  *****

  Arla literally ran into the detective’s office, Harry close on her heels. Lisa was speaking on the phone, and she lifted a hand to gesture her call was important. She hung up and whirled around to face Arla.

  “That was Kent Police. A caravan site manager just called them to say he identified the man and boy from the photos. Charlie gave the name of Albert Cardale and showed a passport and driving licence with that name.”

  “Where is the caravan park?”

  “Five miles outside of Dover. Place called Ashbury. Kent Police are on their way now.”

  “Okay, but are they in the castle?”

  “The police are outside the castle, guv. To stop anyone from going in, right?”

  “No. I think he’s inside already. He knows a secret way in and also out. I could be wrong, and he might be waiting to get down to the port, or truck haulage to see if he can hide in a truck bound for mainland Europe. But I think the castle now takes priority.”

  Arla dashed into her office. Harry went to his desk and picked up the essentials. He had a knife in a leather ankle holster, and he strapped it on. Arla picked up her battery charger, radio and GPS signal diffuser, which she could wear like a watch. If she was dead in a ditch somewhere, the signal would show her location.

  She strode out, and explained to the team that she and Harry were going to Dover. She asked Rob to patch her through to Kent Police via switchboard.
They turned to leave just as the gigantic bulk of Commander Johnson entered the office.

  “Ready for the press conference?” he drawled in his gruff voice, his beady eyes taking in the flushed, excited faces.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I’m off to Dover. I think I know where the suspect is.”

  A deep frown rippled across Johnson’s face. “What? I’ve called media liaison, and we have the press conference starting in two hours. I came to get you. We need -

  “We need to get the boy back to his mother and catch a murder suspect sir,” Arla interrupted. Breathlessly, she explained Shirley’s revelation.

  Johnson wasn’t impressed. “Just because he was interested in the tunnels doesn’t mean he will use it as his escape route.”

  “He went to boarding school in Kent, sir. His school had a sailing club, and he was the president. He can sail across the Channel. He knows Dover and the waterways like the back of his hand. I’m telling you sir, this is his plan.”

  Johnson held up both hands. “Now just wait a minute, Arla.”

  Arla tugged on Harry’s sleeve, pulling him past Johnson. “Sorry, sir we have to go.”

  “What about the press conference?” Johnson shouted, his voice booming across the floor.

  “I’m sure you can handle it sir,” Arla called out as she ran out of the office, following Harry.

  Johnson’s mouth was open. His hands rested on his waist. “Did she just do that?” he murmured to himself in a disbelieving voice.

  CHAPTER 45

  Emmanuel was scared.

  He didn't like the man, although he was trying to be nice. There was something about him that made Emmanuel afraid. His mummy had always said not to speak to a stranger. Emmanuel didn't understand how he had ended up in the car, and then in the caravan. He had been sleepy earlier, but now he was fully awake.

  The man was standing at the dark doorway. He was shining his torch around, and Emmanuel could see spiderwebs in the ceiling. That made him even more scared. He made his mind up. He wanted to cry, but he wiped his tears and pretended that he was strong like Superman. Shirley had told him to do that. He could be Superman if he wanted to. Then he could do anything.