“Well, I hope she’s OK, mate.” There followed a silence as Lloyd debated whether he ought to mention something. “Look - off the record - I got some information from an informant.” He paused again. “Aaron Turner is on a rampage!”
Adam thought to himself, Ah, now we get to the real reason for your call.
“So, how does that affect me?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“He’s been attacking people on the Glebe, beating them up, and trying to get information.”
“On what?”
“YOU! He’s after your location, apparently.”
Adam made no reply.
“It’s probably to do with the intimidation. Now that the court date has been set, he might think that he’s running out of time to persuade you to withdraw. Anyway, I just thought you ought to know. Watch your back, mate. Our lot will try to keep an eye on him, but you’d be best just keeping well away from him.”
“Cheers, Lloyd, I owe you one.”
As the conversation ended, Adam knew that Aaron’s rampage had nothing to do with the court date having been set; he had clearly discovered the empty safe, found his message, or viewed the CCTV footage. Either way, his rage was an indication that he was now fully aware who had his money, and he obviously was not happy about it. Adam smiled to himself. This was exactly the reaction he had wanted - Aaron to lose it, to think irrationally, for him to make mistakes. Now he needed to ramp-up the pressure another notch, play on Aaron’s family ties, and lure him into a final confrontation.
It was time to initiate the next phase in his planned retaliation.
Chapter 37
14:00 – Monday 9th January.
It was the first full week of school since the Christmas holidays had ended.
The pupils had actually returned on the previous Thursday, as was the custom, something which Adam could never fathom - why begin a school week two days before a weekend? However, on this occasion, it had proven a godsend. He had been able to follow Kelly from her home to the Glebe’s only primary school, Hawthorn Academy, as she dropped off Kyle at the start of his school day.
Watching from afar, he could tell that she was a totally different person when Aaron was not around. No longer the victim, she seemed happy, confident, and a loving mother. He had wanted to talk to her, to give her advance warning about what was to come, but Adam had decided that it was better that she remained in ignorance. If she knew of his plans, she might inadvertently let something slip or it might affect the way in which she reacted to future events. He needed her to have genuine natural reactions; otherwise her body language might betray her. Besides, the less she knew, the better. There would be no comeback if his plan went awry.
Having now discovered the details of Kyle’s school and class number from his observations, Adam was in a position to begin the next step in his campaign to unsettle Aaron. His plan was something of a gamble as it relied heavily on outside agencies reacting as he hoped they would, but it was worth the risk.
He checked his watch – 2pm – the school would be preparing to hand over its students to their respective parents at three o’clock. Perfect. He sat in his van, parked in the centre of the Glebe Estate, and removed Callum’s mobile phone from his backpack. He dialled the number for Hawthorn Academy. If, at some point in the future, the police made checks on the call (which they undoubtedly would), they would assume that it had been made by Callum Cliff and the GPS would place him on the estate. There would be no link back to Adam.
For this particular phone call, Adam needed the school to believe that he was a social worker, so he assumed a posh Manchester accent as he spoke.
“Hello, is that Hawthorn Academy?”
“Yes, it is. How can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m John Sharp. I’m a social worker attached to the council’s Child Protection Unit. I need to speak to your Safeguarding Officer urgently, please.”
There was an audible intake of breath from the Office Manager at the other end. She looked on her computer screen, checking the staff register.
“I’m sorry, but they’re not here at the moment, it’s their half-day. Can I help at all?”
“Um...Not really. Is the Head Teacher available?”
“Yes, I’ll just transfer the call to her extension for you.”
The phone rang three times before it was picked up.
“Hello, Mrs James speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Mrs James, it’s John Sharp from the Child Protection Unit. Have you got a six year old boy by the name of Kyle Turner at your school? I believe he’s in class Y1.”
It was a relatively small school and Mrs James knew him well, but she was unsure why social services would be asking about him. Her voice showed nervous tension as she spoke.
“Err...Yes, he is at school today. Is there a problem? What is this all about?”
“Ah, good.” Adam mimicked a sigh of relief. “Kyle needs to be kept in a secure location until either I get there or the police arrive. He can stay with his mother, I believe her name is Kelly Jackson, but under NO circumstances is he to have any contact with his father, Aaron Turner. Is that clear?”
Mrs James was shocked. Whatever was going on, it must be something serious to warrant the attention of social services and the police.
“Yes, that is clear. But why? What’s happened?”
“I am afraid that I can’t give any details over the phone. Suffice it to say that it’s a serious incident involving Kyle’s welfare and safety. I’m on the other side of the county at the moment, but I am in transit to you. If you could just contain things until I arrive, it’d be much appreciated.”
Mrs James was confused, but having had very little contact with the social care system before, she was unaware what the correct procedures were. She took the call at face value.
“OK, I’ll keep him in my office until you get here. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for your assistance. See you soon.”
Adam terminated the call, satisfied with his performance. He smiled. The scene was set, now he needed the school to do as he had asked of them.
Forty Five minutes later, Kelly arrived outside the door to class Y1, just as she did every afternoon. Amid the crowd of waiting parents, she played with her mobile phone, not suspecting that anything was amiss. Glancing up, she noticed Mrs James peering in her direction through the door’s glass panel. The door opened and Kelly was called over. Her first thoughts were, Oh shit, what’s Kyle done this time? But before she had time to think, she had been ushered through to the Head’s Office where she found Kyle sat on a chair, staring at his feet, looking very sorry for himself.
“What have you been up to, Kyle?” she demanded, assuming the worst.
“Nothing, Mum, honest...”
Mrs James shut the door and explained about the call from social services. Kelly was full of questions, but as Mrs James had no answers, all that she could do was await the arrival of John Sharp - whenever that might be.
The wait was long and tedious.
By four O’clock, having drunk numerous mugs of coffee and exhausted all avenues of conversation, John Sharp had still not arrived. Mrs James was furious. She located the telephone number for the Child Protection Unit at the Town Hall and called them to see if they had any idea of Sharp’s ETA. After nearly ten minutes of ringing, the call was eventually picked up by an ‘out-of-hours’ social worker who was clearly overworked, stressed, and had no knowledge of anyone called John Sharp.
“He’s probably a field officer who’s not based at this office. If he’s on his way, the best thing you can do is wait. I’ll do some digging at this end to see if I can locate a case file or any information about what’s going on. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” she said.
After waiting a further forty minutes, Mrs James had had enough. Having had no response from social services, she had no choice but to call the police. Their control room phoned the out-of-hour
s direct line, but they could get no answer from social services, either. However, not knowing the details of the case, they could not risk any contact between Kyle and Aaron. The boy needed to be removed to a ‘Place of Safety’ until the mystery could be unravelled.
And so it was that Kelly and Kyle found themselves being driven to Bury Street Police Station in a blue light taxi, and then being placed in an interview room while officers scurried around trying to work out what social services were playing at.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, Kelly decided to phone Aaron. He would be expecting his dinner to be ready, he would be wondering where they both were. He had already been in a foul mood, but by the time that she had explained what had happened and where they were, he was absolutely livid.
“Right, social services have fucked up big time, I’m coming down there,” he roared into the telephone receiver.
“No, don’t,” Kelly pleaded, “they won’t let you see us; you’re the one they’re investigating.”
“Bollocks! He’s my son, I’m coming anyway.”
With that, he ended the call.
As one phone call ended, so another began. Aaron looked at the Caller ID. It indicated that Callum was phoning.
“Where the fuck have you been hiding?” he demanded.
On the other end, Adam smiled at Aaron’s anger. His plan was working better than expected. He said nothing, prolonging his agony.
“Hello? Say something.”
“How’s your son, Aaron? Shouldn’t social services be taking care of him by now?” Adam spoke calmly and clearly, his menacing tone adding to Aaron’s confusion. Aaron looked at his phone’s screen again. It was definitely Callum’s number, but not his voice.
“What? Is that you...Greenwood?”
“How’s it feel to have your child taken from you? Not nice, is it?”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Aaron snapped.
“Now, now. Your boy will be fine. You might have a bit of explaining to do to social services and the police, though.” Having worked alongside social services as a police officer, Adam knew that they worked an out-of-hours system which was totally unreliable. He had banked on them being un-contactable, the school having no option other than to call the police. And the police were obliged to show a duty-of-care by taking the boy into protective custody until the situation could be resolved.
“Bastard!”
“Now, down to business.” Adam paused. “I’ve got your money. If you want it back, you’re gonna be at my house at eleven thirty tonight.”
Aaron began to protest, but was abruptly interrupted.
“Make sure you come alone or you’ll never see the money again.” After a short pause, he continued, “You don’t have a lot of choice really; your gang appears to be a little shorthanded at the moment, doesn’t it?” Adam chuckled at his own words.
“You’re gonna die, Greenwood.”
“Just be there.”
Adam hit the ‘End Call’ button.
Aaron stared silently at his phone, a multitude of possible scenarios playing out in his imagination. Why does he want to meet at his own house? What’s he planning to do? He needed to think. He did not have the time to be dealing with social services and the police when he had Greenwood to contend with too. He had his priorities.
Phoning Kelly, he said, “I’ve changed my mind, I’m not coming to the police station now, I need to sort something out.” He was purposely vague about the details. “You deal with the cops and social services – it’s all a hoax anyway, they’ll realise eventually.”
“What do you mean? What’s going on, Aaron?”
“Just do what you’re told.”
He hung up.
Chapter 38
19:00 – Monday 9th January.
DS Carmichael stopped, retraced her steps along the corridor, and stared at Kelly playing with her son inside Interview Room One.
Bev had recognised her from the Intelligence Report on the Turner family, and although it was technically none of her business, it piqued her interest. Why was she at the police station? What were the Turners involved in now? Without stopping to speak, she strode towards the Sergeant’s Office, knocked once, and entered without waiting for a reply.
“Alright, Bev?” Sgt Carson looked up from his paperwork as she stood before his desk.
“Ah, Jamie, you’re duty sergeant today, eh? I was just passing the Front Office and I noticed you’ve got the Turner woman, and her son, sat in Interview Room One. What’s the story with them?”
Sgt Jamie Carson put his pen on top of his notebook and leaned back in his chair.
“It’s a bit of a strange one, to be honest. The Headmistress at Hawthorn Academy contacted Control - said that a social worker had called her direct - requested that the boy be kept away from his father, Aaron.”
“The reason being...?”
“Vague! He told her that Kyle was in imminent danger from him and that he’d explain more once he arrived.”
“And?”
“We’re still waiting!” Sgt Carson raised his eyebrows in disgust. “You know what social services are like.”
“What? Seriously? Have you contacted social services yourself?” Bev was incredulous.
“Yeah, but they’re only running a skeleton crew and don’t know any of the details of the case. They’re looking into it. They don’t even know who the social worker was who made the call.”
“Do they have a name?”
“Yeah, a John Sharp, apparently.”
DS Carmichael thought for a moment. It made no sense.
“Chase them up again. They must have a record of this bloke, Sharp, if he’s one of their own. Where was he travelling from?”
“They were told he was en route from the other side of the county.”
“Have there been any reports of RTCs, hold ups, anything that might account for his delay?”
“No, not to my knowledge.”
“Right, this sounds very dodgy to me. Get a trace on the call to the school. Let’s see if we can find out who made the original phone call and where it was made from. Let’s see if we can find anything on a John Sharp, whether he actually exists, and whether he is really working for social services. If this is some sort of elaborate hoax then our first priority is to get the Turner family out of here. But I want to know who made that call, and why.”
“Are you taking this case on then, Bev?”
“Looks like it. It’s not like I’ve not got anything better to be dealing with, eh?” She found sarcasm something of a comfort when work began to pile up on her. “This is a bloody mess! Don’t social services have protocols and procedures for this sort of situation?”
Sgt Carson shrugged his shoulders. “No idea, I’m afraid.”
“Well, see what you can find out, Jamie, and keep me informed. I’m working ‘till about ten this evening - I’m at court tomorrow giving evidence so I need to prepare.”
He nodded his agreement as DS Carmichael left the room, a feeling of unease lurking at the back of her mind.
Chapter 39
23:00 – Monday 9th January.
75 Cannondale Drive had been blanketed in a thin layer of snow.
Adam had arrived early for the rendezvous, parking his van in its usual place in the street outside his house. The mobile phones that he had accumulated throughout his campaign against the Turners (Jared Brown’s, Callum Cliff’s and Samuel Barr’s) were secreted inside a storage compartment built into the floor of its cargo hold. They, and the video footage contained on them, were his insurance policy should things go pear-shaped and he found himself in the hands of the police facing criminal charges.
Before Aaron arrived, Adam had a number of tasks to complete in preparation. In his mind, he had visualised exactly how things would unfold, considered all possible deviations to his plan, and devised alternative strategies to counter them. He was psyched-up, ready for the final confrontation, even looking forward to it in a perverse sort of way
. He took one final look at his home, its interior cloaked in darkness, before pulling on his black leather gloves and heading for the kitchen door at the rear.
Once inside, he pulled the back door to, ensuring that it was unlocked. He moved into the hallway and opened the cupboard beneath the stairs. With the hall light switched on, it was easy to locate the domestic consumer unit. He flipped the main supply breaker down and all electricity was instantly cut to the house, a metallic click sounding as it was once again plunged into darkness. Returning to the kitchen, he selected a large carving knife from the block on the worktop adjacent to the microwave. It would be foolish to confront Aaron unarmed, especially knowing the sort of person that he was. But where would be the best place to deal with him? Adam decided that upstairs would be suitable as there would be less chance of him escaping. If he hid in the bathroom, as soon as Aaron stepped onto the landing, or into any of the bedrooms, he could easily cut off his exit from the house. He headed upstairs, but instead of going directly to his hiding place, he went to the front bedroom. With the curtains partially open, he had a clear view of the street below whilst he remained hidden in the shadows. He patiently awaited Aaron’s arrival.
As he slowly twirled the knife between his fingers, Adam found that he had time to think, one last opportunity to reconsider whether he ought to continue with his fateful mission. He had lured Aaron to the house under the pretence of returning his money, but in reality, the money had nothing to do with it - in fact, he had not even brought it with him. His real aim was to finally confront Aaron about the threats and injuries to his loved ones. The details were still a little sketchy, it depended on how events played out at the time, but he certainly intended to threaten him, to warn him off, to use whatever means he thought necessary to end this vendetta, this madness, once and for all. At the back of his mind, he still had the memory of his discussion with Lloyd about the perfect crime, the perfect murder. He was sorely tempted to turn this theoretical idea into reality, but could he get away with it? Could he actually kill somebody? Heaven knows, he had been pushed beyond breaking point with the near death of his daughter, but was that enough motivation to disregard a lifetime of moral idealism, to go against his own boundaries of what was right and wrong, and to actually take a life? Had he even got the guts to go through with it? He had come close with Cliff and Barr. He had almost set their car alight with them inside, but he had backed down at the last moment, sparing their lives. Would it be any different with Aaron? After all, Aaron was the ringleader, the instigator, the person who had organised it all.
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