by Ellis, Tim
‘And you won’t tell . . . ?’
‘It’s the least I can do.’
She kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’ll buy you a coffee in the canteen.’
He didn’t see the point in telling her that he wouldn’t be frequenting the canteen anymore.’
Once she’d gone, he asked the woman on the information desk to ring for the manager again. She gave him a strange look, but rang the number anyway.
While he was waiting he said goodbye to Hugo and they exchanged business cards.
‘Shall we check everything before go down there?’ Fiona Mitford said when she reappeared.
‘Key?’
‘Check.’
‘Password?’
‘Check?’
‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘I feel optimistic that you might be on the verge of opening Mr Pitt’s box at last.’
She led the way down the marble steps.
The security guard let them in through the steel security door.
They each inserted a key into box number 781 and turned.
‘Password?’
‘Fata Morgana.’
‘You’re nearly there, Sergeant.’
Mrs Mitford slid the twenty-four inch long box from its slot and laid it on the table in the centre of the room. ‘At this point I usually leave.’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary.’
He opened the box.
‘An empty box, Sergeant! You’ve had me running up and down these stairs all day for an empty box?’
He kept staring into the box as if something would appear inside it once the magician had said the magic word, but nothing materialised – it was empty.
‘That can’t be right,’ he said. He thought of Koll then, and tears welled in his eyes. He sat down on the plastic chair provided for customers, bowed his head and dabbed at his eyes with a tissue.
Fiona Mitford put her hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t find anything, Sergeant.’
‘No, I’m not crying because the box is empty . . . Earlier, I heard that my partner had been murdered, and the empty box brought it back to me that’s all.’
‘That’s terrible. I don’t think . . .’
Something caught his eye.
He rested his head sideways on the table, so that his left eye was level with the safety deposit box. Three inches from the rear end was the hinge for the lid, which meant that there was three inches that didn’t lift up. He slid his hand – palm upwards – into the end of the box and withdrew an envelope that had been folded over and stuck to the inside top of the box with duct tape.
‘Well I never,’ the bank manager said.
‘Exactly. Mathew Pitt really liked bamboozling people with his cloak and dagger games.’ He ripped open the envelope, withdrew a folded sheet of paper and opened it up.
Fiona Mitford moved round behind him, so that she could read what was written on the paper.
Lift the trap
Down the steps
Face the river
One, two, three
Turn to the left
Four, five, six
Turn to the right
Reach out
Up
Right
Down
Left
Up
Left
Right
Twist
Open
X
‘It’s like a treasure map,’ Mitford said. ‘X marks the spot.’
The corner of Stick’s mouth creased upwards. ‘So it would seem.’
‘Do you know where he’s referring to?’
‘Yes – where it all began. I should have realised that he would have kept everything close to hand. How many times did Pitt visit the bank?’
‘Once only, the day he rented the box for five years. He paid cash in advance.’
‘That makes sense – no money trail.’ It must have been his insurance policy against the Slavs, he thought.
He stood up, slipped the folded piece of paper into his pocket and said, ‘Thank you very much for your help, Mrs Mitford.’
‘That’s all right, Sergeant. You got there eventually.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Can you tell me where “there” is?’
‘The end – in more ways than one.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
The doctors and nurses were still working on Jerry. She was a filthy mess. Once they’d stabilised her, they had to clean her up before anything else, but they were confident she was through the worst.
He was patrolling the corridor outside the Accident & Emergency theatre as if he was on guard duty.
Angie Parish appeared shortly after they’d arrived and offered a few words of comfort, but his brain wouldn’t function.
He phoned the Chief Constable.
‘I’ve found her, Sir.’
‘That’s excellent news, Ray. What about Rose Needle?’
‘Disappeared. We need to set up a task force. God knows how many people she’s killed, and no doubt she’s already killed again.’
‘I’ll set something in motion. You worry about Jerry for now. When you’re ready, come and brief people on what you found out about her.’
‘Will do, Sir . . . and thanks for believing in me. I won’t forget it.’
‘You’re one of my best DCI’s, Ray. If you don’t believe in the people that work for you, then there’s really no point to it all, is there?’
‘I suppose not.’
He ended the call.
Matilda and Bert arrived.
‘I knew you wouldn’t let her down, Raymond.’
‘You knew more than me then, Matty.’
‘Good job, Ray,’ Bert said. He didn’t talk much, because Matty wouldn’t let him get a word in, but when he did speak everyone knew he meant what he said.
‘Thanks, Bert.’
Eventually, a Doctor Lisa Abraham came out to talk to them. ‘I don’t need to tell you that she was a mess when the paramedics brought her in?’
‘But is she going to be all right?’ Matty asked.
‘She was beaten over a sustained period of time. Sadly, I’ve only ever seen something like that on a child. The wounds became infected, and some will leave scars. He hair was cut with a knife, and there are wounds to her scalp, but her hair will grow back soon enough. She was forced to eat her own faeces . . .’
‘Oh God!’ Matty said.
‘. . . She was starved and left without water. When you found her she was dehydrated and delirious. Between you and the paramedics, you saved her life. I suspect that if you hadn’t found her when you did, she wouldn’t be here now. As you know, her heart gave out for a short period of time, but I don’t think that will cause any lasting damage – we’ll monitor her over the next few weeks, of course.’
‘You haven’t answered my question, Doctor,’ Matty said. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘Physically, she’ll mend. Her mind is another matter though. I’ve asked the duty psychiatrist – Susan Murray – to come down and see her.’
‘Jerry’s a strong-willed woman,’ Bert said. ‘She’ll get through this.’
Dr Abraham pulled a face. ‘I’m sure you’re right, but at the moment she’s still delirious and she shouldn’t be. She keeps asking for stew – Amy promised her stew. We’ve sedated her now to help with her repair.’
‘She said something about stew to me,’ Ray said.
‘Her mind has crossed over to another place – it’s a defence mechanism. In nearly every case, when the person is ready, they come back.’
‘Nearly every case?’ Matty said. ‘What about those that don’t come back?’
‘Let’s not talk about those people. You have to be strong for Jerry now. Think of her as being in a dark place. She’s lost and needs help to find her way out. Talking to her will help her get her bearings, guide her back to you.’
Matty burst into tears and Bert put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
‘
When can we see her, Doctor?’ Ray asked.
‘You can have five minutes now, but that’s all. We’ll be taking her up to Foxglove Ward soon.’
She led them through the swing doors and into the cubicle where Jerry was hooked up to a salmagundi of tubes and leads.
‘Oh God, Raymond,’ Matty said. ‘Look at my beautiful daughter.’ She fell on Jerry and hugged her.
Bert stared at him. ‘I hope you’re going to catch the fucking bitch who did this to our daughter, Ray?’
‘We’ll catch her, Bert, but she’ll never stand trial. Rose Needle is a monster, and she’ll live out the rest of her life in a cage.’
***
PCSO Mundy was delirious. He’d done all he could for her using the limited resources of the first aid kit from the boot of his car, but he had the idea that she was bleeding internally and needed surgery urgently.
He was sitting with his back to the rear wheel of his car. Mundy’s head was resting on his thighs. It was eerily quiet. While he waited for the ambulance and CO19 to make an appearance he phoned Chief Bonnard.
‘Bonnard.’
‘It’s Parish, Sir.’ He told him what had happened.
‘And you’re all right?’
‘A couple of pellets in my left arm, but I’ll live to fight another day.’
‘And the PCSO?’
‘Not good – she got both barrels in the chest.’
‘You’re going with her to the hospital?’
‘Yes. I’ll leave CO19 to deal with Daniels, but once they’ve either killed or arrested him we need to get forensics in there to scoop up the evidence.’
‘Leave that with me.’
He gave the Chief all the information he had on his journey to Owen Daniels’ front door.
‘I’ll have to take the press briefing on my own.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do a good job, Chief.’
‘Very kind of you to say so, Parish. What about this removal man and the people organising the recruitment of child models?’
‘We haven’t got the resources to investigate something so complex. I was going to pass what we had to CEOP tomorrow.’
‘Good idea. Anything else?’
‘There’s the issue of Richards.’
‘She’s at Hornby’s looking through their files for a killer, isn’t she?’
‘Yes. I’ll ring her now and find out what’s going on. I’ll also ring DI Gold and get her to brief you before you speak to the press.’
‘Sounds like we’ve got everything covered between us. Good job, Inspector.’
‘Thanks, Sir. I have to go now. Looks like everybody has arrived at once – the ambulance, CO19 and there’s a whole bunch of press here as well.’
‘Vultures circling a corpse. I’ll speak to you soon, Inspector.’
The call ended.
He passed Mundy over to the paramedics.
‘What about you?’ the female paramedic asked.
‘I’ll follow in my car.’
‘I was referring to your arm.’
‘A scratch.’
‘My superhero. I’ll put a bandage on so that you’re not dripping blood everywhere.’
‘Have you ever seen a superhero with a bandage?’
She smiled. ‘They wear them under their spandex.’
While she was seeing to his shotgun wounds, he briefed Chief Inspector Liam Gibson from CO19 – there wasn’t much to say.
‘Do you want him alive?’
He shook his head. ‘Not particularly.’
‘I don’t want to risk my officers unnecessarily.’
‘No – feel free to use extreme prejudice as my female partner would say.’
‘Tell her she watches far too much television.’
‘I’ll be sure to.’
He walked over to the back of the ambulance. Mundy was lying on the stretcher hooked up to an intravenous infusion and a heart monitor.
She was still pale, but conscious.
‘How’s it going, Mundy?’
‘They’ve given me something for the pain, Sir.’
‘Good. I’ll follow the ambulance in my car, so I’ll see you at the hospital.’
‘How’s your arm?’
‘Just a scratch.’
‘My mate Cheryl will never believe it.’
‘You’ll have the evidence to prove it.’
She reached up and pulled down the sheet covering her chest. ‘You can see my inverted nipples now, Sir.’
He turned his head away. ‘Mundy! You shouldn’t be allowed out on your own.’
‘That’s what my mate Cheryl says.’
‘Your mate Cheryl knows what she’s talking about.’
He climbed out of the ambulance and phoned Richards.
‘Hello?’
‘Have you found the killer yet?’
‘Not that I’m aware of. We’re still looking through last year’s cases. Have you found Sally Bowker’s killer?’
‘Yes I have, and I forgot it was a race.’
‘No, you said . . .’
‘I see, you want to change the rules because you lost.’
‘No . . .’
‘Anyway, I’m on my way to the hospital now, and then I’ll be coming . . .’
‘Why are you going to the hospital?’
‘I have a couple of minor holes in my arm.’
‘Holes?’
‘Nothing serious.’
‘You’ve been shot, haven’t you?’
‘A scratch. The killer decided to welcome us with both barrels from a sawn-off shotgun. The PCSO who was with me is fighting for her life, but I’m fine.’
‘Oh God, Sir!’
‘I’m all right, Richards.’
‘You’d say that even if you weren’t.’
‘Yes, but I am.’
‘I’m coming to the hospital . . .’
‘You are not.’
‘But . . .’
‘Your mother’s there – she’ll look after me.’
‘So you do need looking after?’
‘A figure of speech. Anyway, I want you to ring the Chief and let him know what you’re doing.’
‘The one time you need me and I’m not there.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Richards. If you had been here it might have been you who was lying in the back of an ambulance fighting to stay alive. I don’t need you to do that for me.’
‘Is she bad?’
‘I think she’ll make it, but she’ll be scarred for life.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘Yes, it is. So, will you do as I ask?’
‘I suppose.’
‘You mean: “Yes, Sir. Three bags full, Sir”?’
‘Possibly.’
‘I’ll speak to you later.’
He phoned DI Gold.
‘Hi Lily, it’s Jed.’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine. More to the point, how are you?’
‘I feel like shit. Being single isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘I can vouch for that. Did you get to Hastings?’
‘Yes – definitely the removal man. He helped himself to the young girl and killed her mother – a knife to the chest. The father slept through it.’
‘Really?’
‘A heavy sleeper, apparently. He said his wife took the daughter to a call for child models three weeks ago – same MO.’
He told her about Owen Daniels, the gunshot and CO19.
‘And you’re okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Can you ring Chief Bonnard and bring him up to date on what you’ve found out?’
‘Sure.’
‘Also, I’m going to pass everything to CEOP tomorrow, so can you get back to Hoddesdon tonight for a debriefing session at nine o’clock in the morning?’
‘I can do that.’
‘And stay out of the bar tonight.’
‘It’ll be my undoing.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
The ambulanc
e set off with a flashing blue light.
CO19 pumped five canisters of CS gas into 29 Dove Close, and as he pulled away to follow the ambulance, they smashed down the front door and stormed the house.
***
After collecting his car from the multi-storey car park at High Chelmer Shopping Centre, he drove back to 12 Old Ferry Road in Wivenhoe, Colchester and let himself in.
He knew exactly what to do – he lifted the trap door, climbed down the ladder and faced the river. Then, he took three paces forward, turned left, took another three paces, turned to the right and reached out his hand. He ran his hand over the wall until his fingers touched a tiny stud, which he moved up with his thumb and forefinger, pushed it to the right, down, left, up again, left, right and then twisted it clockwise.
The sound of a click echoed in the underground space. Directly beneath the stud – at around knee-level – a small door moved inwards and shifted to the right. There was an intricately carved ridged wooden box in the space. He jiggled the box out through the opening, pushed it under his arm and climbed back up the ladder.
Sitting on a chair, he put the box on the kitchen table and examined the outside. It was a Japanese puzzle box – he’d seen them before. It had four ridges that stood proud like bands around the box. He pushed and pulled, but there was no obvious opening. It went against everything he believed in, because he knew that this box would provide hours of application. He stood up, opened a drawer in the kitchen and took out a hammer. The truth was, he’d had enough of puzzles over the past few weeks to last him a lifetime. He brought the hammer down and smashed the box open.
Inside was a red notebook containing dates, names, addresses and telephone numbers. Against each name was an amount of money ranging between £30,000 – £100,000. The box also held details of five numbered bank accounts including cheque books, bank cards and access details.
He’d hit the jackpot.
Every blonde child could be traced.
Every man who had purchased a child could be located.
The first date was October 23, 2006. A six year-old girl was sold to a James Cullen from Wiltshire for £40,000. She would be thirteen years old now, he thought – if she was still be alive.
He phoned Chief Inspector Marzocca and told her what he’d found.
