Money Can Kill

by Wonny Lea

  Matt had received a phone call and he told Martin that Helen Cook-Watts had arrived with Tina Barnes and that the press conference was due to start in five minutes.

  ‘They aren’t waiting in your office as you suggested because Tina wants a cigarette before facing the cameras. Helen tells me that Tina has been briefed by our media people and she may or may not make a personal appeal for her son’s return. She has told Helen that she will be led by you and if you think it will help she’ll give it a go. They’re in the car park but ready to come in as soon as we make our way down.’

  Martin’s relationship with the press had been strained during the past few months, to put it mildly, but he pushed aside memories of some possible career-breaking reporting and walked down the back stairs to enlist the help of a diverse bunch of people. A missing child would put everyone on the same side and Martin had a duty to ensure that the strength the media could bring to such a situation was used to maximum advantage.

  Helen and Tina met them just outside the side entrance of the large ground-floor room that was used for high-profile press conferences, and he positioned her between himself and Helen before they made their way to the seats at the front.

  The room was not as jam-packed as it had been on a recent occasion and Martin noticed that it was mainly local press, radio, and television people that he had seen before. The nationals obviously hadn’t caught up with the story yet. Nevertheless there was a high level of noise and flashing lights and unsurprisingly Tina looked terrified.

  In a no-nonsense way Martin made the necessary introductions and gave an account of the way in which Jason had disappeared. He followed it up with details of the searches and briefly indicated the lines of enquiry that were being followed before opening it up to questions.

  It was obvious from the questions that the majority of the reporters had done their homework and knew all about Tina. They knew about her lottery win even down to the exact sum and the names of the people she had given hand-outs to. They knew where she lived and about her relationship with her neighbours. They knew about the way in which Tina had fallen out with some of her old friends. They knew where Tina’s father lived and about the fact that he had never seen his grandson.

  They knew nothing about Jason’s father and within a few minutes it was a desire to find out about this missing link that inspired all their questions.

  Laura Cummings had the ability to take centre stage whenever she asked a question and was easily the most recognisable figure in the room. She was a correspondent for local TV and was setting the scene for the behaviour her press colleagues would be obliged to follow.

  ‘Tina,’ she said in a voice that was intended to demonstrate concern and one she believed would generate more information than her usual forceful manner. ‘We are all here to help DCI Phelps and his excellent team find your son. The more you are able to tell us the more we will be able to enlighten the public and get them on board. Is it possible that Jason has just decided to visit his dad and they are just having some boys’ time together?’

  Ms Cummings was looking directly at Tina as she spoke but Martin could see the distress Tina was under and stood up to respond to the question.

  Tina beat him to it. ‘My Jason doesn’t know who is father is, you stupid cow. You pretend you want to help but you really just want to dig for dirt. Somebody has taken my boy and I just want him back … I don’t want to talk to you lot … I just want Jase back. If whoever has him wants my money he can have it … I just want my Jase back.’

  Tears streamed down Tina’s face and she manically ran her fingers through her hair, causing it to stick up in some bizarre fashion. She looked dreadful and so Helen helped her out of the room, leaving Martin to bring the press conference to some sort of order.

  For the first time that Martin could remember, Laura Cummings looked a bit shocked and he felt a tiny bit sorry for her. True she had tried to get Tina on the back-foot but she had not bargained for that response and it was obvious that some of the other reporters had been amused to see her put down. What a bunch.

  Speaking as if nothing had happened Martin made the appeal that had been agreed. He spoke of the group of Welsh speakers who must have walked past Jason and drew particular attention to the two girls on pink scooters. There were photographs available of the elderly couple and these were shown and finally he mentioned the person who was seen at the time wearing a white jacket or coat. He emphasised that the people he spoke of were not necessarily suspects but may have seen Jason before his disappearance and Martin appealed to them to come forward.

  Finally Martin mentioned the fact that Jason may have been taken from St Fagans in something like a strong bag and ended on a general appeal for the public to be vigilant. ‘Jason is a small seven-year-old boy. He has ginger hair and lots of freckles and when he was last seen he was wearing a Stone Island blue sweatshirt and matching jeans. His jacket is light brown with an all-over Zucca logo and four pockets in the front with stud fasteners. He was wearing black leather Kickers boots and the photograph that we are circulating shows him in the clothes I’ve just mentioned, as it was only taken this morning.

  ‘We are expecting to hear quite soon that Tina Barnes has received a demand for money in return for her son and if, as I suspect, the kidnapper is watching this news item I have a message for him. Our primary objective will be to get Jason back to his mother safe and well and if there has to be an exchange of money to secure that objective then so be it. We will do nothing to put Jason at risk but kidnapping is one of the most serious crimes and I will personally do everything I can to bring this callous creature to justice.’

  Hands shot up all over the room and journalists questioned the legal position of the police when it came to negotiating with people demanding money with menace. Martin ignored it all and joined Matt, who had been standing near the side door, and they both walked out.

  It would not have taken a world-class detective to guess the likely whereabouts of Tina Barnes, and she was indeed in the car park taking refuge in some large quantities of nicotine.

  ‘She’s beating herself up about her outburst back there,’ Helen told Martin. ‘She seems to think the press will now be more interested in making her look a fool for calling the television presenter a stupid cow than getting the public engaged in looking for Jason. I’ve told her that her little outburst was completely understandable and it’s unlikely to be featured in any appeal for Jason’s return, but she doesn’t believe me.’

  ‘PC Cook-Watts is right, no one knows better than I do what a pain in the butt the media can be, but they know their business and their focus will be on helping to find Jason. That’s what’ll engage the public, up their rating figures and sell their newspapers. No one outside their own little network is going to be interested in your opinion of one of them. I suggest we get you back home. Helen will remain with you and there will be a couple of other officers staying at the house, keeping an eye out for any movement from the kidnapper and manning the phones.’ Martin looked at Tina and saw that she had reached yet another stage in her roller-coaster of emotions. Initially she had been devastated and terrified, and then focused and determined, but now she looked like someone who had just had all the stuffing taken out of her. She looked totally helpless and Martin watched as Helen took her hand and urged her into a waiting squad car.

  ‘Poor thing,’ remarked Matt, as the two men watched the car pull out of the car park and caught sight of a number of photographers flashing away as the police car slowed down before joining the main road.

  ‘There’ll be more of the same waiting for her at her home, you can bet on that, but for now the media will play a major part in this enquiry and we need their help.’ As the two men walked back into the building Martin asked if there had been anything from the sorting office and if Dan Painter had been brought in for questioning.

  ‘Nothing from Penarth Road as yet but everyone there is aware of the urgency of the situation. The manager told me any le
tters posted today may not get to them until much later. Lots of post-boxes only have a late afternoon or early evening collection and if our kidnapper is using the Royal Mail I doubt he would have risked sending it yesterday in case Tina got it before she left home this morning. Even if there is a letter it will be amongst thousands of pieces of mail from all over Cardiff, and although the system is slick it’s not instantaneous. It’s not like the last time when we were looking for a particular coloured envelope – this time we don’t even know if the kidnapper has actually sent a letter and if it is correctly addressed and with the proper postcode.’

  Martin nodded. ‘What about Dan Painter? Have we located him yet?’

  ‘I think Sgt Evans wants to speak to you about that,’ responded Matt. ‘His officers have been all over the place bringing in everyone and anyone on Tina’s list of people who know her and her circumstances. Dan Painter is on that list but I don’t think he’s been brought in yet.

  ‘OK,’ said Martin. ‘Though I must get something to eat before I speak to Sgt Evans – what about you, have you eaten?

  Matt shook his head. ‘I had just had a sandwich and a coffee with my niece when I got your call, but that was hours ago and my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut.’

  Martin grinned as Matt’s response to the offer of food had been exactly what had been expected, and the two men made their way to the staff dining room.

  Although the incident rooms were the places where the detailed work on cases was carried out there was no doubt that discussions over coffee, with the help of Iris’ home-from-home cooking, were often key to solving crime. Iris was responsible for the catering in Goleudy and it was rumoured that some officers even came to work on their days off if it was one of her famous curry days.

  Today the lunch session was well and truly over but after a few minutes discussion the two detectives opted for a simple cheese and ham toasty. ‘Any news about the little boy?’ asked Iris when she brought the food to the table. The dining room was the hub of the building and there was very little that went on that wasn’t debated there, but it was unusual for Iris to ask a direct question about a case. ‘We had the Red Dragon radio station on earlier and the presenter mentioned that a young boy had gone missing on a school trip to St Fagans. Then I heard some of the officers over lunch saying you were at the museum and so I guessed you were involved with the case.’

  ‘We’ll be recruiting you to CID,’ teased Matt.

  ‘No news, I’m afraid,’ answered Martin.

  ‘Poor little bugger. I don’t know how I would have coped if one of my kids had been taken and it would be the same with the grandchildren – it doesn’t bear thinking about. Please God he will be alright and not abused in any way. The poor mother must be going out of her mind with worry just thinking what someone could be doing to her little boy. There are some evil bastards in this world.’

  Chapter Seven

  A nightmare

  How the hell had he got to this point? It was the stuff of anyone’s worst nightmare, but he knew he wasn’t having a terrible dream.

  He wasn’t on his own but the other two people were not wide awake with their minds full of confusion and fear. One would never be wide awake again and was growing colder with every hour. Susan had driven him mad with her tormenting and her foul mouth but he would never have believed himself capable of actually killing someone. It had been so easy and in some ways that was the thing that scared him most. He obviously didn’t realise his own strength. But or maybe there had been something wrong with her? Maybe she had had a heart attack or something and the fact that he had his hands around her throat when she died was just a coincidence?

  He wasn’t convincing himself and he knew he wouldn’t have a hope in hell of convincing anyone else. If he could say it had just been a bit of a domestic that had got out of hand he might have stood a chance, but there was another body in the caravan that would make that line of defence impossible.

  The other body was not cold but was very still. Jason had wrapped himself in a faded blue blanket and all that could be seen of him was a mop of ginger hair and a very red face. There was something about the colour of his face that made Dan Painter take a closer look.

  He bent down and even before his hands had touched the blanket he felt the heat coming off the small body and there was something about the boy’s breathing that terrified him.

  Dan had daughters of his own and he remembered one of them, Lucy, having something the doctors called a febrile convulsion when she was just four years old as a result of a high temperature when she had tonsillitis. It had been one of the scariest moments of his life when his daughter had lost consciousness and began jerking and twitching. He had thought she wouldn’t recover and now he was scared that Jason was going to die.

  Something at the back of his mind told him that he needed to stop Jason overheating and Dan carefully removed the woollen blanket. The boy’s skin felt hot enough to fry an egg and each intake of breath was accompanied by a sort of high-pitched grunt.

  Dan got to his feet and paced backwards and forwards in the small space between the collapsed table and the bedroom door. He was caught between one dead body and the even more terrifying sight of a very sick child. Jason stirred and opened his eyes.

  Not wanting to scare the boy any further Dan desperately tried to raise a smile but although Jason’s eyes were open he didn’t seem to see him at all. With eyes wide and glazed violently pawed at his limbs, as if trying to brush off crawling things that only he could see.

  His behaviour terrified Dan, and not knowing what to do he threw open the door of the caravan and almost fell down the single metal step.

  It wasn’t a cold afternoon but there was a marked difference between the outside temperature and the cloying atmosphere of the caravan, and the change came to Dan’s rescue. He walked around the perimeter of what had been the building site and began unravelling the mess inside his head.

  In the plans that he and Susan had considered for weeks this should have been the time when they would just be sitting back and waiting for the money to come to them. They believed that the most difficult part would be getting Jason to cooperate – but that bit had been easy.

  The idea of using the Holly Road school trip had come when Dan’s granddaughter, prompted by her mother, had asked him for some spending money. She told him that all the kids in her class were going to a place where there were houses from the olden days and you could buy sweets like old people had had when they were little.

  When he mentioned the trip to Susan she immediately saw it as an ideal opportunity to kidnap Jason. Up to that point Dan had not really taken their plans seriously but had seen them as a way of keeping Susan’s interest. He wished he hadn’t told her about the school outing but she was really fired up and her imagination ran wild. He remembered her considering the possibility of setting fire to one of the buildings and seizing Jason in the confusion that would result, and that was one of her less crazy ideas.

  Realising that she was serious about a kidnap and ransom scheme Dan forced himself to come up with a more rational plan. His brother Will had played cricket in his younger days and from the back of a wardrobe Dan fished out a white sweater and trousers and a bat that hadn’t been used for years. Will had disappeared off the face of the earth more than fifteen years ago and Dan didn’t know if his big brother was dead or alive.

  Will’s cricket bag had fallen to pieces but a visit to Sports Direct had provided Dan with a new one, and also a white floppy hat and sports shades. Dressed as a cricketer not even Dan’s mother would have recognised him as he parked Susan’s sister’s car in the St Fagans car park.

  Something they hadn’t considered was the need to pre-pay for parking via the pay and display system. He had no coins and didn’t want to attract attention to himself by asking anyone to change a note for him. Cursing that they hadn’t thought about parking charges he took the risk that security staff wouldn’t notice his car without a ticket and went
in search of Jason.

  He saw the three coaches from Holly Road School pull into the car park and the skinny woman with black and blue hair accompanied by a red-headed kid was not difficult to pick out. Dan kept his head down when he caught sight of his own daughter and the granddaughter he had provided with pocket money for the trip. He knew that there was no way they would give some aging cricketer a second glance but that hadn’t stopped his stomach taking a tumble when they appeared to be looking in his direction.

  As he had suspected Jason and his mother took off on their own and Dan hung back just watching from a safe distance as they made their way to the nearest public toilets. It was a possible opportunity and Dan considered risking it when he saw that Jason was playing around, on his own, outside the ladies’ toilets. With his heart beating nineteen to the dozen Dan took off his dark glasses and began walking towards the boy.

  He did a sharp about-turn and quickly put his glasses back on as he realised he wasn’t the only person walking towards Jason. Leaning against a wall and pretending to look for something in his bag, Dan watched one of Jason’s teachers as she waited with him until his mother came out of the toilets.

  He wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation but Tina didn’t seem too pleased as she yanked Jason off and Dan followed at a distance but keeping them in sight. There was a similar yanking of Jason’s arm when Tina used this same method of persuasion to stop her son joining his friends in the park. She was walking at top speed and it was not only Jason’s little legs that were having difficulty keeping up with her.

  Dan had to increase his stride but then stop abruptly and stared out over the fields as suddenly Tina stopped and bent down to speak to her son. As before he was too far away to hear what was being said but as they started walking again he picked up from the body language that mother and son were having an argument.