Beyond Reach

by Hurley, Graham

  ‘Sure, Paul.’ It was Marie. ‘And maybe she hasn’t.’

  It took less than half an hour to drive deep into the Meon Valley. Esme’s property lay up a narrow country lane. From the main road on the valley floor, Winter could see lights on. At the final bend before the house itself, a traffic car blocked the lane.

  Mackenzie’s window purred down. A face appeared from the darkness.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘The name’s Mackenzie. My daughter lives here. What’s going on?’

  The officer didn’t answer. His torch had settled on Winter’s face. ‘Well, well …’ A soft laugh. ‘Mr Winter.’

  ‘Yeah. The gentleman here asked you a question. What’s happened? ’

  The officer told Mackenzie to follow him up to the house. The two vehicles drove in convoy. There were two more cars and a white van parked on the big semicircle of gravel outside Esme’s front door. Winter recognised the van. Scenes of Crime, he thought. Something horrible had definitely kicked off.

  Marie was out of the Bentley first. Another uniform managed to intercept her before she made it to the front door. Only then did she spot the au pair in the passenger seat of the unmarked Escort. Two of Esme’s kids were in the back, their pale faces pressed against the glass.

  A tall figure got out of the Escort and extended a hand.

  ‘D/C Yates. Evzenie tells me you’re Mrs Mackenzie.’

  ‘That’s right. What’s going on? What’s happened?’

  Marie had been joined by Bazza. Winter was still in the Bentley. Yates spared Mackenzie a nod.

  ‘There’s been a bit of an incident,’ he said. ‘I wish we could do this inside but Scenes of Crime have the place secured.’

  Mackenzie stepped very close. His patience had run out. He spoke very slowly, the way you might address a child.

  ‘Just … tell … me … what … happened.’

  ‘I’m trying, Mr Mackenzie.’

  ‘Good, son. So?’

  ‘The au pair belled 999 about an hour ago. She’d had an intruder in the house. The long and short of it is the oldest boy. The intruder took him. He’s gone.’

  ‘Guy?’ Marie let out a gasp, a small animal noise. Winter had joined them by now. He squeezed her arm.

  ‘Took him?’ Mackenzie wanted to know more.

  ‘We’re assuming he broke in. A noise woke the au pair. She found him in Guy’s bedroom. He had the boy out of bed, hands bound behind his back, mouth taped, blindfold, the lot. She says he’d even sorted some clothes for the lad.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He gave Evzenie a bit of a shove. The next thing she knew, he was carrying the lad out of the house. They must have had a car outside. She heard it drive away.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘She says she heard voices, just a snatch of conversation. She was pretty upset, as you might imagine.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Mackenzie wasn’t listening. ‘So who’d want to do a thing like that?’

  ‘Very good question. I’m sure we’ll find out.’

  ‘You’re not wrong, son.’ Mackenzie turned round and shot Winter a look. ‘You know any of these clowns, Paul?’

  Winter and Yates exchanged glances. They’d worked together on countless jobs over the years. Now this.

  Marie was squatting beside the Escort. One of the rear doors was open and she was talking to the kids. One of them clambered out, bare feet on the cold gravel, and put her arms round her. She was still wearing her pyjamas. Marie carried the child to the Bentley and wrapped her in a blanket from the boot.

  Winter wanted to know about descriptions. First, the intruder. Yates pulled a face.

  ‘She says jeans, army-style sweater, socks, no shoes. He was also wearing a black balaclava. Apparently the guy didn’t say a word inside the house.’

  ‘And the motor outside?’

  ‘She never saw it. Just heard it driving away. Control have put out an alert but don’t hold your breath. The guy cut the landline and nicked the au pair’s mobile. She knew the owners keep a spare but it took her a while to find it.’ Yates turned back to Mackenzie. ‘Where are the parents, sir?’

  ‘Ezzie’s in Spain. Stu’s in London.’

  ‘You want to tell them? Or shall we do it? Either way we need to talk to them. Sharpish.’

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ said Winter. He caught Mackenzie’s eye and they stepped away from the house into the darkness.

  ‘What happens now, mush?’

  ‘They’ll want statements. Evzenie, obviously. Then you and Marie, and Ezzie and Stu, and anyone else they can lay their hands on. They need to build a picture, Baz. They need to try and put some names in the frame.’

  ‘But it’s obvious, isn’t it? Big house? Money? Take a hostage? Earn yourself a few bob?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ Winter looked him in the eye. If anyone was prime suspect here he knew exactly who it was. Mackenzie didn’t get it.

  ‘Tell me, mush. Tell me what I’m missing.’

  ‘Who have we pissed off recently?’

  ‘Is that a serious question? You want the full list?’

  ‘Very recently.’

  ‘You mean Spain?’ It was beginning to dawn on him. ‘The contract? That silly fucking woman?’

  Winter nodded. ‘I’ve been here, Baz. I know how these guys work.’

  ‘You mean Garfield?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘The Bill. They’ll be looking for motive. Garfield’s perfect.’

  ‘But you only did the lawyer a couple of days ago … and Garfield’s inside on bloody remand. You think they’re that organised?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, Baz, but it smells right. Ez had dinner with the wife on Saturday night. She says they got on really well, had a proper chat, all that bollocks. Ez might have told her about the kids, the house, the horses, the whole set-up. Fuck knows, if she had a few to drink she might even have told her about - you know - the situation … about what’s going on with lover boy and about Stu being up in London all week. The place was wide open, Baz, as you can see.’

  Mackenzie nodded, thoughtful. Then his gaze returned to the house.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said quietly.

  Winter went across to the Escort. Yates was back behind the wheel making a phone call. Catching Winter’s eye he gestured for him to hang on. He nodded a couple of times and muttered something Winter didn’t catch. Then the conversation was over.

  ‘Good news, mate.’ He was still looking at Winter. ‘The duty D/I from Major Crimes is still dealing with a murder in Waterlooville. Guess who’s picking this lot up?’

  Winter gazed at him a moment. ‘Faraday?’

  After the phone call Faraday took a moment to get his bearings. A stripe of grey light at the edge of the curtained window suggested it was dawn. He reached for the mobile again. 04.51. DCI Parsons wanted a meet in half an hour at Kingston Crescent. Faraday headed for the bathroom. A kidnap?

  Parsons was already at her desk by the time he finally got to Major Crimes. She must have made him the coffee a while ago because it was nearly cold.

  ‘It’s Mackenzie, Joe. I don’t know whether I told you on the phone. One of the grandchildren. A little boy called Guy.’

  She briefly recounted what had happened. The property would be in the hands of Scenes of Crime for a while yet. They were starting at the front entrance and working slowly towards the boy’s bedroom.

  ‘Professional job?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘How many people in the property?’

  ‘Four. Three kids and an au pair.’

  Parsons explained about Esme and Stuart being away and Faraday nodded, wondering how much she knew about Perry Madison. Maybe Willard really was keeping the info under wraps.

  ‘Was the property alarmed?’

  ‘Apparently there’s an alarm installed but it doesn’t seemed to have functioned. The au pair only woke up when the intruder was in the next bedroom.’r />
  ‘So the place was unprotected?’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  Faraday scribbled himself a note. Only hours ago Willard had been doing his best to point Faraday in Winter’s direction. Now he had no choice but to lift the phone.

  ‘So how do we play this, boss?’

  ‘I’m SIO, Joe, for the time being. You’re Deputy. SOCU will end up managing it, of course, assuming it runs and runs.’

  The Serious Organised Crime Unit worked from three centres across the county. Normally, they’d have taken ownership from the off. So why were he and Parsons in the driving seat?

  ‘It’s Mr Willard’s decision, Joe.’ Parsons reached for a notepad. ‘Maybe you should ask him.’

  Ten minutes later, Faraday was back in his office. Between them, he and Parsons had agreed the ground rules for Operation Causeway. A total media blackout, pending developments. Examination of traffic cameras along the various approach routes to the Meon Valley. House-to-house calls in the surrounding villages. A trawl through the Sex Offenders Register to chase up local paedos. And, most important of all, an in-depth examination of the family’s lifestyle. Friends. Enemies. Feuds. Debts. Anything, in short, that might trigger a post-midnight visit to the family home.

  While it was true that some kidnaps were the work of predatory strangers attracted by rumours of wealth or paedophiles after the fuck of their dreams, most - in the parlance - were Bad on Bad: drug dealers after outstanding debts, criminals using flesh and blood to settle old scores. This, Faraday quickly realised, was why Willard had decided to retain Causeway within Major Crimes, at least for the time being. Faced with the loss of his grandchild, Mackenzie could hardly complain about intrusive questioning in the bid to get the lad back. And given his relationship with Winter, Faraday was the obvious choice to ask those questions. Willard had also stipulated that D/S Jimmy Suttle would head the intel cell over the coming days. Suttle, of course, had been very close to Winter while the disgraced ex-cop was still in the Job. Another piece of inspired casting on Willard’s part.

  Faraday checked his watch. Half six was early to be phoning Suttle and so he found a pad in the desk drawer and began to list his immediate lines of enquiry. Top of that list was a single name. Perry Madison.

  Mackenzie, back home in Craneswater, had the same thought. Marie was upstairs, trying to get the kids to sleep. In the kitchen Winter had made a pot of tea.

  ‘Do you think it’s a runner, mush? Do you think he’s that crazy?’

  Winter wasn’t convinced. ‘He hates kids, always has done. He and his missus never had any of their own and that’s why.’

  ‘So what’s he doing with my fucking daughter? Didn’t she ever mention she had three of them?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, Baz. But why would he nick Guy?’

  ‘Maybe Ez put him up to it. New life in Spain. Trophy kid to remind her of the old times.’

  ‘Then why not take all three? Just put them in the car and head for the ferry?’

  ‘Fuck knows. You’re right, though. Doesn’t fly, does it?’

  Winter found a loaf and fed the toaster with slices of Hovis. To his surprise, he was famished. Mackenzie wanted to know about the FLO mentioned back at Esme’s place. What the fuck was an FLO?

  ‘Family Liaison Officer, Baz. She’ll turn up first thing, probably with Faraday.’

  ‘But what’s her game?’

  ‘She’s there to hold your hand. These days they call it Victim Support.’

  ‘Fuck that.’

  ‘Play along, Baz. Number one, you want Guy back. Number two, we want to keep these people at arm’s length. That’s not going to be easy. There are blokes I know in the Job who’ll be creaming themselves at an opportunity like this. They’ll be crawling all over you, Baz. We have to plan for that. We have to be ahead of their game.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Mackenzie was watching the curl of blue smoke from the toaster. ‘So what about Spain?’

  ‘We tell them.’

  ‘Tell them what?’

  ‘Tell them about the hotel, about the apartment block, about the deal with Garfield. Either we do that upfront or they’ll find out anyway. ’

  ‘You’re off your head, mush.’ Mackenzie was staring at him. ‘We’ve just bust a gut making sure that bloody deal never happens. Why make it easy for them?’

  ‘Because, like I say, they’re bound to find out. Faraday’s no fool and if he’s working with a bloke called Jimmy Suttle there’s no way they won’t put the deal together.’

  ‘So we just own up? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yeah. You and Ez negotiated the deal. You took Garfield at face value. Then you realised it was dirty money and you pulled out. You’re horrified, Baz. You feel betrayed, but thank God you’ve got the bollocks to do the right thing. You’re a businessman. You depend on your reputation. The last thing you can afford is to lose it.’

  ‘I tell them all that?’

  ‘Word for word, Baz. You grit your teeth and you do it.’

  ‘They’ll piss themselves laughing, mush. They know me. They know what I’m like.’ He rescued the toast and left it on the worktop. ‘What about the lawyer you smacked around? The luggage you nicked?’

  ‘That too. That was how much pressure we were under. That was how much we cared.’

  Mackenzie sat down again. He wasn’t convinced. Winter put more bread in the toaster and binned the first lot. Mackenzie watched his every move.

  ‘You really think this is all down to Garfield? Nicking my fucking grandson? Just to get even?’

  ‘It’s more than possible, Baz. The guy’s minted, he’s well connected, and being inside won’t make any difference. On remand you can have all kinds of visits, make phone calls, the lot, plus that missus of his might turn out to wear the trousers. Maybe there’s something going on between her and the toy-boy lawyer. Whichever way you cut it, the woman was humiliated.’

  ‘Yeah. By you, mush.’

  ‘By me. Too right. To save your bacon.’

  ‘Yeah. And look where we are now.’

  Winter was sorting out some plates for the toast. He stopped. Turned round.

  ‘Are you serious? Am I hearing what I think I’m hearing? Only if I am you can stick your fucking job up your arse. Who sent me out there in the first place? Who never bothered to check out Garfield’s money?’

  Mackenzie stared at him. In the spill of early sunshine through the window he looked suddenly exhausted.

  ‘Sorry, mush.’ He shook his head. ‘That was totally out of order. You know what? I think I’m fucking losing it. What we really need to do is sort this cunt out, big time.’

  ‘Which cunt?’

  ‘Garfield. A stroke like that? Un-fucking-forgivable.’

  ‘Forget it, Baz. Sorting Garfield out is down to the Bill. That’s their job. That’s why you pay your taxes.’

  ‘Yeah … but it doesn’t feel right, none of it. A kid for Chrissakes, a game little nipper like Guy. If anyone lifts a finger to him, I swear to God …’ He left the sentence unfinished, staring into nowhere.

  There was a long silence. Winter could hear footsteps descending the stairs. Then Marie appeared at the open kitchen door. She gazed at them both. Winter knew she’d been crying.

  ‘They’re asleep, poor lambs,’ she said. ‘Is anyone going to tell me what happens next?’

  Chapter nineteen

  TUESDAY, 27 MAY 2008. 09.33

  The FLO’s name was Helen Christian. She was a local girl, early forties, Pompey born and bred, slightly overweight. She, more than anyone on the Causeway squad, knew exactly the kind of challenge that lay ahead.

  ‘You won’t believe this, Jimmy, but I went out with him once. He won’t remember but it’s true.’

  ‘Who?’ Suttle was sitting at Faraday’s desk waiting for his boss to return.

  ‘Mackenzie. He was an estate agent in the early days, Jack the Lad, really funny, really good company. We used to go to those all-nighters out in the country.
He always got the best drugs, even then.’

  ‘You knew his missus too? The lovely Marie?’ Suttle was looking impressed.

  ‘Yeah, she was a High School girl. Posh but a bit of a wild child. If I remember right, her dad was an architect. Mackenzie was all over her until she fell pregnant.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘He ran a mile, took up with loads of other women.’

  ‘Including you?’

  ‘Yeah. I really liked him, to tell you the truth. He was different to the other layabouts. He knew what he wanted. He was going places, you could tell.’

  ‘Sure … and look where it took him.’

  ‘Trillionaire? Nice car? Pretty wife? Big house? Am I missing something here, Jimmy?’

  Faraday stepped back into the office with a tray of coffees. He’d been in conference with Parsons. Word from the scene so far offered nothing in the way of a decent lead.

  ‘The guy forced an entry through the front door. He must have left his shoes outside because they can’t raise any soil samples or prints from the carpet, and the girl says he was wandering around in socks. He was wearing gloves too, so prints are another no-no.’

  ‘Alarm?’

  ‘It didn’t work. No one knows why.’

  ‘You think he might have disabled it?’

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘Tyre marks?’

  ‘It’s a gravel drive. No chance.’

  ‘Neat job, then.’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘Skin colour?’

  ‘IC1 as far as she could make out. He was wearing a balaclava.’ IC1 meant white male.

  ‘Accent?’

  ‘He never said a word until he got outside. The au pair’s not great on regional accents and all she heard were murmurs. But there were definitely two of them, maybe more.’

  ‘This mobile of hers, the one he nicked. It wasn’t on by any chance?’

  ‘She says not. We’ve got the number. That’s something you might chase.’

  Suttle made a note. Cell site analysis, providing the phone was live, could track its whereabouts.

  Faraday handed Christian a coffee. Suttle mentioned her fling with Mackenzie. Faraday turned to the FLO.