Don't Tell Meg Trilogy Box Set

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘Look, get your phone charged. Finish off your interview with the police. I’m going to make some calls. I’ll see if I can get someone to the house on the quiet. I know a chap in your area, a private security guy who was on the show. I’ll give him a call.’

  ‘No names, Alex. He’ll probably know who I am from the radio. We have to get Meg out safely. If I can get to Meg, then you can send the police in. We have to keep her safe. None of this is her fault.’

  ‘Okay, Pete. Don’t be an idiot though, don’t go in there alone. And keep your bloody phone on charge, I’ll ring you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Thanks, Alex. I’m really scared. I’ve been a right shit with Meg. She doesn’t deserve this. She drove over to surprise me on my birthday.’

  ‘Just don’t do anything stupid. Tell this Tony guy that you’re coming. Alone.’

  ‘Will do. Thanks, Alex. I appreciate this.’

  ‘No problem, Pete. Stay safe. Love you.’

  She put the phone down. She’d said ‘love you’. Was it habit? Probably. There was too much on my plate to care. I needed to finish off with the police and make the drive back home. I returned to the Facebook app and messaged Meg’s account: We’re on our way shortly. We’ll be 2 or 3 hours. You keep your hands off Meg. You keep her safe. We’ll come. No police. Just leave Meg alone.

  The message was read immediately. They were probably in the spare room, Meg kept her laptop on the desk there. A reply came back almost immediately: See you soon tough guy. Bring Ellie. No funny stuff. Its Ellie I want to see. Bring Ellie and you get your bitch back.

  Another missed apostrophe. It wasn’t Meg typing. He’d been with her all day. What had they been doing? There was a pause, but from the screen I could see that he was still typing: Found a lovely knife in your kitchen. Any sign of police and I slice her neck.

  I rushed back to the makeshift interview room. They were waiting for me, impatient to get started.

  ‘Apologies,’ I said to the DCI. ‘I had to nip to the toilets. How can I help?’

  I was anxious to get it over with. I’d decided what I was going to omit and what would stay in my account of events. I had to protect Meg at all costs. I needed to get back to the house, with Ellie too. I hadn’t figured out what we would do when we got there, but we had at least to show our faces. Alex was working on the detail, she had great contacts and lots of influence, I had to rely on her pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

  The line of questioning was what you’d expect: times of arrival and departure; my movements up and down the corridor; had I heard or seen anything. I described everything in detail. The only part that I left out was Ellie’s presence. I didn’t mention that we’d walked back together. I airbrushed her out of the story.

  Had I seen or heard anything suspicious? No. Was I aware of anything going on in the room next to mine? No. Is there anything else I’d like to add? Yes, the door had been ajar, I had noticed it a couple of times.

  I did wonder if I was dropping Jenny in at the deep end with this snippet of information, but it was crucial to what had gone on. The cops only needed to know that Jackson was in there, presumably to meet somebody or have a quiet cigarette. Somehow Tony Miller had got in the room with him. I told them to speak to Fergus too. He’d mention the man that he’d let into the building when he returned from the pub. The police would then know that they were looking for a person who probably wasn’t a hotel guest.

  I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t a suspect, I was a witness. Sure, I’d been unlucky enough to be in the room next door to a murder. They were investigating the murder of Jackson, nothing else at that stage. It was too late for Jackson, I had to consider Meg.

  My mind wandered as I considered telling the DCI about Meg’s abduction. I’d already seen what Tony was capable of, I daren’t deviate from the plan. If the cops surrounded our house with Meg inside, it would become a siege situation. I’d covered two of those in my journalistic career. The first ended with the death of the two hostage family members, then the suicide of the hostage taker: an estranged husband and his two kids. What a way to show your love and put the marriage back together again.

  The second was a guy who’d recently come out of jail. His girlfriend had moved in with someone else while he’d been inside. He decided to punish both his girlfriend and her new lover. He hanged them from their fifth floor flat balcony then jumped over the side to kill himself. Incredibly, he survived, ending up crippled. Another great bit of relationship management.

  I’d seen how hostage situations went. I didn’t fancy Meg’s chances. I hadn’t a clue what I was going to do to sort out Tony Miller. I only knew I had to help Meg.

  My witness statement was soon over and done with. They’d probably want to speak to me again, they were very interested in the door being ajar. They’d already talked to Jenny, Bob and Derek. Derek would have confirmed my story about the door. That was the piece of information that they needed, that was the crucial thing that I had to tell them. Fergus would tell them about the man he let into the building. But would Jenny mention Meg? Hopefully not.

  As I was getting ready to leave, there was a final question. It caught me off guard, I felt my face redden. They must have seen it. They don’t miss a trick, these guys.

  ‘One more thing, Mr Bailey. Derek Walker thought he saw a woman leaving a room in your part of the corridor. A younger woman, he thought, very composed and self-assured. Would you know anything about that?’

  I stalled.

  ‘Is Derek Walker the gentleman I spoke to from the OverNight Inn, the one who was checking the rooms when the fire alarm went off?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one. He couldn’t be certain because he was further along the corridor checking the rooms, but he thought he’d seen somebody through the glass in the fire door.’

  They knew about Ellie. She’d said that Derek hadn’t seen her. But he had. Damn it! She could have been anybody, I decided to stick to my story.

  ‘There was a lot of movement in the corridor when the fire alarm went off. I could hear it in my room, but I haven’t a clue who was out there. It was all clear except for Derek when I left the building.’

  ‘You didn’t mention why it took you so long to leave the building when you were so close to the fire door …’

  They were getting a bit too close to the truth. It was like having the dogs on my tail. I hadn’t done anything wrong, extra-marital sex is not a criminal offence. I decided to throw them off the scent.

  ‘I was a bit pissed, to be honest with you. I was fast asleep. I can sleep through virtually anything, I’m afraid. I didn’t hear it.’

  That did the job. I was good to go. They’d be in contact if they needed to speak to me again, which they were certain that they would.

  ‘When can I go back to my room and get my stuff?’ I asked. I’d need my car keys, and my phone charger would be a bonus.

  ‘We’ve got your belongings in the room next door. We didn’t need to retain anything, but your room will now be out of bounds for the remainder of your stay until the forensics team is done. We’ve locked off that entire corridor now. You’ll need to sign for your things.’

  I hadn’t needed to bring much with me; a small holdall had carried my toiletries, a few changes of underwear and my tech. The DCI followed me into the adjoining room, although it was the constable who’d been tasked with giving me my stuff. That made me suspicious. He was lurking. I took my bag, signed the form on the clipboard that had been handed to me, and turned to leave the room.

  ‘Just one more thing, Mr Bailey!’

  Shit, what now? This guy and his theatrics were becoming a pain in the arse.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ I snapped, perhaps a little too harshly.

  ‘We found one more item in your room which didn’t appear to belong to you.’

  ‘Oh yes, what was it?’ I asked, trying to appear as nonchalant as I could.

  He had something behind his back. More theatrics.

  ‘
I don’t suppose you recognise this do you, Mr Bailey?’

  He held up the pink bra. The very bra that I’d removed from Ellie the night before. A bra that had somehow got discarded in the room. And missed when we had to evacuate for the fire alarm. How had Ellie managed to miss her bra?

  ‘Well, it’s not mine,’ I laughed, perhaps a little too forced. The DCI stared at me. He was good at this game, he knew I’d have to follow up with something else.

  ‘I don’t know whose it is. If you found it in my room, I suppose it must have been left by another guest.’

  ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Certain. It’s not part of your case, is it? I mean, does it really matter where it came from?’

  The DCI looked at me, trying to make an assessment of what kind of man I was, I think.

  ‘No Mr Bailey, it’s not part of the case in question. We were just keen to return the item to its rightful owner ... whoever that might be.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Were the cops suspicious about Ellie? I was certain they thought I was keeping something back. By staying quiet about knowing who the killer was and where he’d been hiding, I was now actively hindering their investigation. What choice did I have? He had my wife. I’d seen what he was capable of. I didn’t trust them not to go in and bungle the job. I wanted Meg back. I wanted to make things right.

  Alex was on the case. We’d put something in place, give Tony what he wanted, and send the local police in to overpower him. I had a couple of hours to figure out exactly what the master plan would be. And I had to break the bad news to Ellie.

  I’d be interviewed again, there was no way they weren’t going to squeeze me for more information. Meg’s Facebook video had been deleted, presumably by Tony Miller, so there was no chance of that causing problems now. It was Ellie that he was after, not Meg. There was no way that I was sacrificing Ellie either, but in any scenario she would have to be used as bait. I had to talk to her, and we needed to jump in my car and head back to my house.

  As I walked through reception, I wondered about Jenny. Did she know about Jackson yet? I was grateful that Meg had restricted the access on her Facebook video – it would have gone viral if it had been public. Jenny might well have seen it on her own feed if that had been the case. I’d need to get my phone charged, send her a message, check in with her. She’d be devastated when she found out about Jackson’s murder, but there wouldn’t be any point in telling the police what they’d been up to. They’d have to guess why Jackson was in that room; there were many reasons why a young lad might have sneaked off in the middle of the night to be on his own.

  Derek had replaced Bob on reception, and things had quietened down as far as check-ins were concerned. I was sure that I wouldn’t need a room that night, I’d stay at home with Meg. It was safe to say that I wouldn’t be returning for day two of Diane’s brainstorming weekend. Sunday was likely to be spent taking care of Meg and speaking to the police – with Tony Miller in custody by then, I hoped.

  I headed for the lift and was taken aback when Jem stepped out accompanied by Ali, one of the young reporters from the office. She was nice. Clearly Jem had already clocked that.

  ‘Hello mate,’ he began, his face reacting immediately to seeing me outside the lift doors. ‘Go on into the bar, Ali,’ he continued. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment!’

  Ali moved off, and we stepped away from the lift doors so that we could chat without obstructing the area.

  ‘You coming down for drinks?’ Jem asked. ‘Look at all this going on with the police – we can’t get away from it, even for a weekend.’

  I wanted to be rid of Jem as soon as possible.

  ‘Can’t make it tonight, I’m afraid.’

  I wondered if I should mention going home. It was unlikely that Jem would accept any lame excuses so I decided to tell another lie.

  ‘I have to head back home. Meg is ill and I need to pick up some pills for her from the overnight chemist. I’ll drive back early tomorrow morning.’

  His face changed.

  ‘What’s wrong with Meg? Is she okay?’

  ‘Who knows, some sickness thing, she’s in quite a bad way by the sound of it. Thought I’d better do the decent thing and drive back and see what I can do to help. It’s only a couple of hours, lucky that we’re not in London for this one!’

  Jem studied my face. He was fighting to stay cheery, but he looked concerned.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you, mate? Keep you company? It’s a bit of a drag having to drive all that way on your own. I wouldn’t mind a chat, seems like a while since we caught up.’

  I needed Jem to piss off. He was a best pal and all that, but I wanted him out of the way. This was a journey that I would be making with Ellie, if I could convince her to come with me.

  ‘No Jem, seriously, it’s fine. It’ll all be a storm in a teacup. Nothing to worry about. I’ll get up early tomorrow, I’ll be here in time for breakfast, nobody will know I’ve gone. Besides, you look like you’re getting on well with Ali …’

  Distraction. That was the name of the game. Jem was never happier than when he got the chance of a bit of innuendo about women. Since parting with Sally, it had become more pronounced. Ego probably. His pride had been hurt and he was keen to let everybody in the office know that he was still a player.

  It suddenly seemed so unimportant. All I cared about was Meg. Why had I even slept with Ellie? Meg was the woman I loved, why hadn’t I realised that without having to put us through all this crap? If I’d returned to my room after the pub, I’d have spent the night with Meg, and the death in the room next door would have had nothing to do with me.

  ‘Ali’s hot,’ he smiled, distracted once again by the thought of that night’s conquest. ‘Very ambitious. I’ve promised to give her some career guidance, reveal the secrets to my success and all that. As usual, it’ll require taking her knickers off.’

  I’d always laughed along with Jem in the past, never challenging what he was doing. But in the context of what had been going on, it seemed predatory and calculating. I’d never noticed that, just chuckled along like Beavis and Butt-Head. What Jem was doing wasn’t very nice. He was using his seniority as the basis for a sexual encounter. It had taken me a long time to see that and it made me uncomfortable.

  ‘You enjoy the evening, Jem. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?’

  ‘Yeah, sure mate. Send my best wishes to Meg. Tell her I’m thinking about her.’

  ‘I will, see you tomorrow.’

  We parted, Jem heading for the bar to join Ali, me pressing the button to call the lift.

  The lift arrived, the doors opened, my thoughts moved onto other things. Ellie. Charging my phone. Getting back to Meg. Talking to Alex. The lift seemed to take ages to work its way to Ellie’s floor. I headed directly to her room, gently tapping at the door. I was anxious not to draw attention to myself. I was still hoping, stupidly, that we might be able to keep our casual encounter out of things.

  There was no answer. No movement in the room. Ellie had said that she’d stay there. She knew how serious things were getting. I started to get agitated, annoyed that she’d messed up the plan. We’d agreed what to do, it had been the last thing we’d discussed. I tapped again, a little louder this time. Maybe she hadn’t heard.

  There was no movement in the room. Bloody hell, Ellie! I tried the door. It was locked. Maybe she was down in the bar, perhaps she’d got fed up waiting for me. I tried the door again and knocked once more. Nothing. I looked down to check if there was light shining under the door. There wasn’t, but there was a piece of paper there. You’d have missed it if you were walking by, but it was sticking out enough for me to see it and pick it up. Ellie had left me a note. Good, at least she’d had the sense to do that before going wherever it was she’d gone.

  She’d used the notepad in her room to scribble a message to me. I could see that it had been written hastily. My name was on the front, it was folded twice.
<
br />   Pete – it’s Tony Miller. I told you I saw him. He has your wife. The bugger texted me. He wants to speak to me. Smooth things over he says. He’s weird as anything, but I don’t think he’ll harm your wife. I’m going to see him. He sent me your postcode for the satnav. I need to fix this, Pete. Follow me when you get this note. He said don’t tell the police. I’m sure he’ll be okay if I talk to him. He’s just pissed off. Ellie x

  Damn! Ellie had gone on without me. She’d scrawled her mobile number at the bottom of her note. Good, as soon as I got a charge I could call her. I hoped she was right about Tony Miller. She knew him better than I did. She’d be able to speak to him, get Meg released safely. Once everybody was out of danger, I’d let the police know straight away. It would all work out. Meg would be okay. Surely Meg would be okay?

  As expected, Alex had moved fast.

  I wasted no time in leaving the OverNight Inn and heading for my car. I didn’t bother checking out of the hotel, my room was out of bounds to me anyway and the radio station was picking up the bill.

  I had to get on the road and rendezvous with Ellie before she reached my house. I didn’t want her messing things up for Meg. She was crucial to a solution with Tony Miller, but I had to think about Meg first. Perhaps I should have done that earlier.

  I was able to start charging my phone via the USB unit, which plugged into the cigarette lighter. It was too dead to bring back to life straight away, I’d have to wait for it to replenish some basic charge so I could switch it back on.

  I wondered if I’d be returning to the hotel. It was difficult to see how. However things played out, it would eventually involve the police. More statements, more questions, further discomfort. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Tony Miller was the culprit, we had video evidence – if they could retrieve it from deleted items, that is.

  It was dark and raining heavily when I left. Huge puddles of water lay on the road concealing potholes beneath. I needed to concentrate on my driving, but I couldn’t stop myself reaching over to check my phone. Eventually it lit up. Glancing from the road, to my phone, to Ellie’s note, I keyed in her mobile number. It went to voicemail. She must have been half an hour ahead of me, in the rural bit of the journey where sheep replaced mobile signals. I’d call her when I thought she was nearing civilisation again.