Money Can Kill

by Wonny Lea

  He suddenly realised that he was no longer the focus of the flash photography, as the subject that now took their attention was Tina Barnes, who had opened the front door and was standing next to DC Cook-Watts. It was no surprise that she held a cigarette in her hand, but what was a surprise was that she was soaking wet. Her multi-coloured hair was flat against her face and although she was wrapped in a gigantic white bath towel she was still surrounded by a small pool of water.

  Matt ushered everyone inside and shut the door. It occurred to him that Tina must have taken a swim but he didn’t want to give the press the opportunity of saying that she had been chilling out in her personal pool when her son’s life could be in danger.

  The reality was very different as Helen explained when they were all standing in the hall.

  ‘Tina was fine until about ten minutes ago when the phone rang and someone demanded to know where she was. I picked up the phone put in by our technicians and could hear the conversation. The man on the line was obviously drunk and kept insisting that he had been waiting for half an hour for her. It was difficult to make much sense of what he said and I told Tina to ask if Jason was with him. That seemed to confuse him totally and we thought he was going to hang up.

  ‘That freaked Tina out and she yelled down the phone demanding that she be allowed to speak to her son. It must have been the tone of her voice because the guy seemed to sober up a bit and asked her what the hell she was on about. It turned out that he was someone out on a stag night and whose girlfriend had promised to pick him up. I took over the call and asked him to give me his girlfriend’s number and as I suspected, in his drunken state, he had dialled 02 at the end of the number instead of 20.

  ‘I think it was partly relief and partly disappointment that sent Tina on a bit of a rampage and she smashed up a number of ornaments and pots in the garden. I should have seen it coming but I didn’t and she didn’t even make much of a splash as she jumped into the pool. My first instinct was to jump in after her but even before I got to the pool she was pulling herself up one of the ladders.’

  Tina was no longer dripping and she pulled the towel tighter around her fully clothed body. ‘It wasn’t Helen’s fault,’ she explained. ‘I actually don’t swim and I don’t know what made me jump in, but it was the shallow end and I was right next to the ladder so I was OK – it was that phone call. As it was so late I just expected it to be the person who took Jase.’

  ‘Do you want to change out of those wet things?’ asked Martin. ‘We have a letter that we suspect may have been sent by Jason’s kidnapper and as agreed we’ve brought it along for you to open.’

  He held out the plastic bag and half expected Tina to snatch it from his hand. Instead she hesitated before surprising everyone and saying that she would change first.

  ‘God only knows what will be in that letter,’ she said. ‘I owe it to my Jase to be prepared to do whatever is necessary to make him safe and I think I’ll be able to do that better in dry clothes.’

  She headed for the stairs and Helen decided not to follow her. ‘I think she’ll be alright, and she should be capable of doing almost anything if there is a chance of getting Jason back. I must confess that initially I thought she was a bit of an airhead, but my opinion of her is changing. Yes, her jumping in the pool was totally erratic, but bloody hell – I don’t know how I’d behave in her position.’

  ‘I wish she would hurry up,’ suggested Matt. ‘I’m desperate to know what’s inside that envelope.’

  ‘I’m desperate, too,’ responded Tina as she returned dressed in black trousers and a pale pink sweater with a darker pink smiley face super-imposed on the fabric. ‘This is Jason’s favourite top, and I’m wearing it for good luck so let’s get on with it.’ She stretched out her hand for the envelope but Martin gave her a pair of disposable gloves before she touched anything. They wanted to get as much in the way of forensics from the letter as was possible and so with gloves already on Matt used a knife to slit open the envelope and handed the folded notepaper to Tina.

  She visibly steadied herself before unfolding the sheet of white paper and reading the same style of writing that had been seen on the front of the envelope. Matt had said that it was all over the place and it was. There was a mixture of block capitals and joined up writing and almost every letter produced in a different style, but stripped of all the bizarre creativity it read:

  Jason is safe.

  You will get him back if you follow these instructions.

  Put one million pounds in used notes in a lightweight suitcase.

  Half the notes must be £20s and half £50s.

  Leave the case in the red telephone box opposite the church on Wentloog Road.

  TODAY, THURSDAY at 2 p.m.

  If I am picked up by the police Jason WILL be killed

  You will be told where to find your son when I have the money and I am sure you have not had me followed.

  I repeat, Jason is safe at the moment and it is up to you to keep him safe.

  They all read the note several times with each of them picking out different elements of the message. For Tina the only point of focus was the first sentence and she read that line over and over – Jason was safe and the kidnapper had even said the same thing at the end of the note.

  Before anyone else had a chance to speak Tina laid down the rules.

  ‘We will do exactly as he asks,’ she said quietly but firmly. ‘I will get the money as requested and I’ve already got a blue lightweight suitcase ready for when I take Jason to Disneyland at half-term.’ She had a new resolve in her voice and seemed totally convinced that all she had to do was get the money and her son would be found; she could not or would not contemplate anything that would change that situation. ‘To be honest I thought the man that took Jason would ask for much more than a million – I would have given him every penny I have.’

  Matt had read the note and was considering the logistics of the demand. He struggled to remember an amusing training session he had attended when the presenter had posed as a blackmailer and demanded a payment of three million in £20 notes.

  Apparently a million pounds in that denomination weighs about eight stone and the blackmailer had wanted that multiplied by three stuffed into a briefcase! One of the course participants, Carl, had confessed to weighing in excess of eighteen stone and so the comparison was made suggesting that the blackmailer would have had to be able to lift Carl plus the weight of a small child in order to get away with the money.

  Matt considered the demand of a million pounds being half in £20 notes and half in fifties, and based on what he remembered guessed that the weight of that bundle would be somewhere around six stone. He looked at Tina and wondered if she would be capable of lifting that much, then dismissed the thought. She would carry it until she dropped if it meant getting her son back but Matt didn’t share her belief regarding the honour of the kidnapper. Once he had the money there was no knowing what he would do.

  Martin read the note for the third time and he too had thought about the actual physical volume of the money but the other thing he picked up was the fact that there was more than one person involved with Jason’s abduction. Whoever had written the letter was going to pick up the money but there was the threat that Jason would be killed if he was apprehended.

  Did he mean Jason would actually be murdered or did he mean he had been left somewhere without food or water and would die if the kidnapper was arrested before he had revealed the child’s whereabouts? Supposing the plan was to kill the boy if the kidnapper was caught then there had to be someone else involved, and it was this thought that was taxing Martin.

  Helen had busied herself with making some coffee that was welcomed by the men, but Tina ignored hers and lit a cigarette.

  ‘The kidnapper will be unaware that we already have his ransom note in our hands and normally it would be at least eight hours from now before the postman dropped it on your doormat. There are things we can put in place like cameras
around the area of the post box and we could put a tracker on the suitcase.’

  Before Martin could say any more Tina interrupted. ‘I don’t want you to do anything. If this man thinks I’m helping the police God knows what he’ll do. Don’t ask me why, but I trust him and I believe that if we just do as he wants then he will tell me where Jason is and that’s all I want.’

  She stubbed her cigarette out in an overflowing ash tray and still clutching the Lego Ron Weasley she surprised everyone by announcing that she was going to bed. ‘I know what I have to do tomorrow and I won’t have the strength to go through with it if I don’t get some sleep.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ said Helen. ‘I’ve been trying to get her to get some rest for hours and she’s had nothing to eat or drink. She just lives on cigarettes. The fridge is full of milk and strawberry milkshakes but I can’t see those being for Tina. If she does manage to get to sleep I’ll try to get her to eat something when she wakes up.’

  ‘Are you OK to stay?’ asked Martin.

  ‘Yes, my brother brought a few of my things around earlier. There are a number of bedrooms but I think I’ll just use the sofa – it’s bigger than my bed. What are you going to do?’ Helen cleared the coffee cups as she spoke.

  ‘In spite of what Tina said we will still set up some cameras around the phone box. They can be done while it’s still dark and will be positioned so as not to be noticeable. I’ll speak to Charlie about the feasibility of using a tracker without drawing attention to the operation.’ He sighed.

  ‘It’s a fine line to be walking, Helen. There is every chance that the kidnapper will renege on his promise to let Tina know where her son is once he’s got his hands on the money. The only thing that is keeping that woman together is her belief that a million pounds will buy her son’s freedom, but unfortunately we have good reason to be cynical. There’s enough case-history around to tell us that things can go badly wrong.

  ‘If we interfere and the kidnapper finds out he may be forced to step outside any plan he currently has and that could endanger the boy’s life. But if we do nothing and allow Tina to simply hand over the money we are completely at the mercy of a man we know nothing about other than that he wants to be an instant millionaire.’

  Helen nodded. ‘On that count I can tell you that Tina’s bank is already in the picture and I have a direct contact who is waiting to hear how much money is needed and if there are any specific requirements. The manager sounded really young but took the whole thing in his stride. It appears that even if used notes are requested they will be able to use electronic scanners to record the serial numbers on all the notes in next to no time. My initial thought was that this meant we could pick the man up as soon as he started spending, but of course that wouldn’t be the case. If he used a £20 note to pay for anything it could be given to the next customer who wanted change or used by the shopkeeper to buy stock. We could hardly circulate what would amount to thirty-five thousand serial numbers and ask the public to keep an eye out for them.’

  Martin smiled and said that the serial numbers would only be useful if the kidnapper was apprehended and the ransom money found somewhere connected to him. At that point it would secure a conviction, but for now the numbers were just a small weapon in the armoury needed to catch this man.

  Sergeant Evans had followed the detectives as requested and had witnessed the opening of the ransom note and the subsequent conversation. ‘Is there anything you need me to do?’ he asked.

  ‘Just stand down all those involved in the search at St Fagans and be sure that everyone, especially the museum staff and the public, is thanked for their efforts. I think all we need to tell people at the moment is that we have reason to believe that Jason has been taken off the premises, obviously nothing about the ransom note.

  ‘It’s now well past midnight and I suggest we all try to get a few hours of sleep and then meet up at eight in the morning.’

  The press seemed to be prepared to be mown down as they congregated around Martin’s car when it left the drive but slowly edging forward he managed to avoid gathering any trophies and drove off without a word.

  En route to Goleudy Matt made a number of calls and initiated action on some of the safeguards that had been suggested and hoped that they were doing the right thing.

  Neither of the men went into the office and Martin’s car only stopped long enough for Matt to jump out and get into his 4x4.

  Martin suddenly realised that he was both tired and hungry and couldn’t wait to get to the cottage. It was now the early hours of Thursday morning and there was virtually an empty road ahead of him. The significance of the fact that it was Thursday suddenly dawned on him and for one of the few times in his career he cursed his job.

  This wasn’t just any old Thursday, it was Thursday the sixth of October – Shelley’s birthday.

  He had planned the day. He was always the first to wake up and would introduce her to her birthday by gently tickling her belly. From past experience he knew that his delicate touch would lead to an hour or so of passion, as they both agreed that the best time for sex was immediately after sleeping together all night.

  Next on the agenda he had planned was breakfast in bed and watching her open the card and present he had hidden away in the spare room. He realised with regret that most of his plans would now be put on hold.

  He quietly let himself into the cottage and having forgotten about his need for food he made straight for bed. Shelley was fast asleep when he entered the bedroom but she stirred as Martin snuggled up close to her. An hour or so later they were both considering whether or not to change their minds about the best time to have sex but fell asleep before they had reached a decision.

  Chapter Nine

  Jason’s ill …

  The boy wasn’t nearly as hot as he had been and he looked a bit better this morning. A quick glance in the mirror told Dan that the same couldn’t be said about him. He had barely slept a wink and in some ways he was grateful for that because every time he did doze off it was only to be confronted by images of Susan rising from the rubble and coming in search of him.

  She had metamorphosed into a monster with two heads and as only one of the throats had been strangled she was half dead and half alive. The body parts that were still living dragged along the rest and with a sneer and an evil wink she held out a decomposing hand.

  He didn’t even need to fall asleep to see this vision from hell – all it took was for him to close his eyes and with each blink she grew more grotesque as bits fell off her and Dan wished the boy would wake up and speak to him. He craved for the sound of a living human voice to blot out the whines and groans that his imagination was creating out of the mouth of the woman he had so recently murdered.

  He stared hard at Jason and the boy seemed to sense his gaze and slowly opened his eyes. They still had the glazed-over appearance that had worried Dan last night but they were showing signs of recognition.

  ‘Where’s the lady gone?’

  The words were spoken in a whisper and to Dan they brought the first glimmer of hope he had dared to have for hours. Perhaps Jason didn’t remember what had happened to Susan. Perhaps he was already feverish when the fight had started and had no recollection of seeing the life squeezed out of her. Jumping at the possibility and turning away from the boy Dan picked up the neck of the gin bottle he had missed when clearing up earlier. If there was a chance that Jason did not remember what he had seen then nothing should be left around that could jog that little mind of his.

  With an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders Dan replied. ‘You know what women are like, don’t you? Change their minds from one minute to the next. She wanted to come with us but now she’s gone off to see her sister.’

  Before he could say any more Jason interrupted. ‘Where’s my mum? I want my mum. You said we could play a little trick on her, that’s all. Where is she and where’s Ron Weasley?’

  The questions were causing Jason some distress and
Dan feared the boy would suffer some sort of relapse as his face was returning to the washed-out pallor of the previous evening. He handed Jason a glass of water but it was refused and then the same questions were asked but this time with the sound of terror in the little boy’s voice.

  Dan sat down beside Jason and tried to reassure him. ‘I promise you that you’ll see your mother later and be able to go home with her, but for now I need you to calm down or you’ll make yourself ill again.’

  ‘Is she coming to get me? Where are we? Does my mother know where I am? I can’t hear any cars.’ Jason hesitated and then continued. ‘Is Megan here? I know you’re Megan’s granddad. Does she live here with you or with her mother?’

  Realising that the only way to keep the boy calm was to give him answers Dan decided that honesty, partial at least, was the best policy. ‘Yes, I’m Megan’s granddad, but you’re a big boy so you can just call me Dan.’

  Jason seemed to like the idea of being able to call a grown-up by their first name and raised his head slightly.

  Encouraged, Dan continued. ‘What I said just now is true. You will be back at home with your mother later today but I can’t answer for Ron Weasley – is he a friend of yours?’

  The first faint vestige of a smile appeared on Jason’s face and must have arrived with a small portion of courage. ‘Don’t you know nothing, Mr Dan? Ron Weasley is Harry Potter’s friend – I’ve got them all.’

  Like most other people on the planet Dan had heard of Harry Potter, but the antics of young wizards and schools of magic was not really something that grabbed him. Still if it was something that Jason liked to talk about he would become an instant fan.

  ‘What do you mean you’ve got them all?’ he encouraged.

  ‘I’ve got all the Lego figures, of course, and lots of the places in Hogwarts, but I haven’t put them together yet and my mother says it will take us for ever to do them all.’

  The mention of his mother was a trigger and Jason’s mouth turned down and any sign of a smile disappeared. ‘I don’t want to wait until later. I want my mother now. Has she gone back on the bus without me?’