Money Can Kill

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Money Can Kill Page 13

by Wonny Lea


  Jason’s young mind struggled to remember what had happened since the time Dan had approached him in St Fagans. He had been cross with his mother and had told her that he didn’t want her stupid ham sandwiches, but she wouldn’t take him to McDonalds. They often quarrelled about food, and according to all his schoolmates refusing to eat proper food was the best way in the world to wind up adults.

  He hadn’t noticed the man in the white jacket coming towards him but as soon as he had removed his hat and dark glasses Jason recognised Megan’s granddad. He remembered the time Dan had spoken to him in the schoolyard and he knew that Megan loved her granddad so he had no reason to be afraid.

  He thought it was a great idea when Dan suggested they play a trick on his mother and he had hopped into that big bag willingly. The drink Dan had given him was very sweet, and he’d drunk it all but remembered a somewhat bitter after-taste and had wished he had some bubble gum in his pocket.

  At first being carried in the bag had been fun and he had giggled a lot but it was dark and cramped and then it had become even darker as Jason felt the bag being put down and heard a thump. He had no idea that the sound he had heard was the boot of a car being closed or that he and the bag were in that boot.

  No matter how much he tried, Jason could not remember what had happened after that, being in a drug-induced sleep – and unbeknown to his kidnapper incubating a potentially serious viral infection.

  He remembered seeing a woman when he woke up and she wasn’t very nice. Everything else was a bit of a jumble in his head and he had felt so hot and stiff and sick. There was something else about the woman that he struggled to remember but nothing came back to him. All he knew was that he was glad she had gone but he didn’t really know why.

  The headache he had experienced earlier was coming back and he was starting to feel hot and shivery again. Not as bad as before but enough to make him want his mother. He wanted a cuddle more than anything in the world, and despite what Dan had said about him being a big boy he couldn’t stop the hot tears running down his now very pale cheeks.

  Dan once again offered him a drink of water but Jason didn’t even want a sip. He put his head back on the pillow and his eyes rolled around in their sockets before he held his hands in front of them, protecting them from the shaft of watery sunlight that had emerged from behind a grey cloud.

  His breathing had returned to the rapid shallow type and Dan didn’t need anything as sophisticated as a thermometer to know that the boy’s internal kettle was on the boil again.

  He didn’t want the boy’s death on his conscience; after all, Jason was his son, even though he had only realised the fact quite recently. Perhaps it would help if his son knew that he was with his father, but Dan didn’t think so. The Harry Potter-loving kid probably had fantasies about his father being a powerful wizard and the reality would be enough of a shock to finish him off.

  What the hell was he going to do with the boy?

  He tried the cold water treatment on his face and head in an attempt to get his brain into gear but the instant he closed his eyes Susan reared her now almost fully decomposed head and he thought he would vomit. He retched and gagged but he didn’t vomit as there was nothing in his stomach to throw up, but he needed air and he opened the door.

  Seconds later he slammed it closed, as the outside had thrown up a picture of Susan that was beyond description and now he was even seeing her with his eyes wide open.

  ‘Christ,’ he shouted. ‘What a fucking mess! How the hell did I get here?’ There was no one to answer his question or to complain about his bad language as Jason was, at best, fast asleep.

  After several minutes Dan found that he could close his eyes without the previous horror, and this was such a relief that he found himself able to start thinking more rationally. The big question for him was whether he could risk Jason being found at all?

  Their recent conversation suggested that the boy had no recollection of him killing Susan but was it something he would remember when he was better. Dan had no doubt that the child was sick, but how sick he didn’t know. Should he be in hospital? Maybe he wouldn’t recover unless he received treatment.

  One thing was certain, which was that he could not be found at the caravan. He racked his brains to think of a place he could take the boy. It had to be somewhere where he wouldn’t be found until after the ransom had been collected, and Dan was en route to Mexico. He had made up his mind that he would follow that part of the original plan and hoped that it wouldn’t be an issue if he turned up at the airport without the other half of his booking.

  It was going to be known that it was he who had taken Jason, and so he could see no reason not to take the boy back to his own place and leave him there.

  He debated with himself the question of Susan. If the police were directed to his flat they would soon gather evidence that she was living there. What would that mean? They would look for her and not be able to find her, and would assume she was with him. He couldn’t see any flaws in his thinking but had no illusion about his current ability to get things wrong.

  If, in the fullness of time, Jason was able to remember more detail of his caravan experience it would be no problem, because Mexico would have swallowed Dan and would be helping him spend his money.

  Once he had made up his mind on a course of action Dan wasted no time in carrying it out. He didn’t bother clearing anything from the caravan, still believing that he would be untouchable if and when anything was ever discovered.

  After turning the car around Dan carried Jason to it and put him and the blue blanket on the back seat. He was really shocked by the heat that was being transmitted from Jason and hoped to God that the boy wouldn’t die in the car. Somehow he would get through the procedure of picking up the money and driving to Heathrow airport with the knowledge that he had left Jason alive and told his mother, as promised where to find her son.

  He wasn’t sure how he would cope if he had to leave a dead kid in his flat, and not just any dead kid – his son.

  His hands shock slightly as he put the car into gear and drove away from the building site with no sign of Susan either alive and smiling or dead and decaying sitting in the passenger seat. What he did have was some excess baggage on the backseat and he was anxious to get it moved as quickly as possible as it was now ten minutes to one and at two o’clock he had an important pick up.

  The petrol gauge shot up to record virtually a full tank, so that was one thing he had managed to get right and it would easily get him to Heathrow. After that he would just dump his car in one of the long-stay car parks – it was well past its sell-by-date anyway but thankfully had always been reliable.

  He pulled up outside his home and looking outwardly in control he began turning the key in his front door.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ a woman’s voice shouted from the corner of the building. ‘I’ve been phoning Susan all morning, and non-stop in fact since I got a visit from the bloody police. Where’s my sister?’

  The voice could have been Susan’s, and the sound of it almost made him throw up, but that was where the similarities between the two women ended because Diane was a tall shapely blonde and would have been Dan’s sister of choice had she been available.

  He realised who was shouting at him and struggled to compose himself, even forcing a false smile. ‘What’s up? Susan’s not with me – I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks. I think she’s traded me in for a younger model. What’s this about the police?’

  ‘Wish to hell I knew,’ replied Diane. ‘They were waiting for me when I got home from work this morning and asking questions about where my car was yesterday. Can you believe that they’re linking my car with the disappearance of that kid that has gone missing from Holly Road School? They’re off their heads. I told them my car was outside my house all day yesterday and I was tucked up in my bed but they wouldn’t listen and they’ve just taken my car in for what they call forensic examination. They are nuts.


  ‘It wasn’t until after they’d gone that I wondered if Susan had borrowed the car, she’s done it before without asking me, but I can’t see her visiting a museum, can you?’

  ‘Not in a million years,’ replied Dan.

  ‘Then just as I was about to go to bed a couple of detectives turned up and starting asking questions. They seem to think someone took my car when I was asleep and used it to kidnap that kid who was on the news. They didn’t say that in so many words but you’d have to be completely thick not to work it out.’ Diane raised her eyebrows and to Dan’s horror her face suddenly took on a family resemblance to the woman he had strangled – more than he had ever noticed before.

  He steadied himself. ‘Well, it couldn’t have been your sister, because she hasn’t got a licence – as I found out when she wanted to borrow my car.’

  ‘No, but that hasn’t stopped her in the past, and if someone did take my keys and drive my car it would have had to be someone who could get into my house. And apart from me Susan is the only one with a key to the front door. She could have taken the car for someone else and they said on the radio that the police are looking for a man in a white jacket.’

  The conversation was getting too close to the truth for comfort and Dan was becoming increasingly aware that time was ticking by. He turned his back on Diane and turning the key started to open the door.

  ‘How about a cup of coffee and a lift back home?’ Diane suggested. ‘Maybe my sister will have turned up by then and be able to tell us what’s going on.’

  Dan froze at the suggestion and the only thing he could think of was to be as rude as possible. ‘One fucking sister messing up my life is enough, so thanks but no thanks. I don’t want coffee or anything else from you,’ he shouted, and walked into his home slamming the door behind him.

  He left a very bemused and angry woman on the doorstep. She’d always thought that Dan had a soft spot for her and was completely thrown by his reaction to her suggestion of coffee. Diane wasn’t used to men rejecting her offers and she shouted through his letter box.

  ‘In your dreams, mate! It’s Susan who likes to do it with old men, not me, and looking at you this morning old is the operative word. I wouldn’t do it with you for a million pounds!’

  She crashed the letter box down and walked away unaware of the irony of her final words. Dan watched her until she was out of sight and then checked that their altercation had not attracted the attention of any of his neighbours.

  There was no one around, and before losing his nerve he lifted Jason out of the car, carried the boy through to his bedroom, and placed him on the bed. The extra time spent in the car wrapped in the blue woollen blanket had done nothing to help his fever, and as Dan placed him on the bed Jason again had the same sort of fit that Dan remembered his daughter having years ago.

  Life was throwing stones at him and it didn’t occur to him to consider he could simply be reaping what he had sown.

  Jason’s convulsion had not been as bad as he remembered Lucy having and she had recovered and so he assumed that Jason would do the same. He had nothing to feel guilty about as far as the boy was concerned. He hadn’t made Jason ill, it was just one of those things with kids, they were up one minute and down the next and before you knew it they had bounced back.

  Dan didn’t risk a backward glance towards the bed as he headed for his front door. Images of a deathly white boy oozing heat and fitting were already etched on his conscience but at least, in his mind, the boy was twitching so must still be alive.

  Now if Dan closed his eyes for just a second there was a fight for his attention and he wondered how long it would be before Susan and Jason stopped competing to ensure he continued to live in hell.

  He anxiously realised that it was twenty minutes to two. Twenty minutes to the time he had given Tina to deposit the money. That was fine, he would get there with minutes to spare but with no need to hang around and let the nerves kick in.

  Driving to the spot he had previously planned to park his car he was relieved to see that there were spaces available. Good, perhaps his luck was changing and everything else would go off without a hitch. He looked around nervously and could see nothing more than people walking and shopping. No one paid any attention to him. To his untrained mind and eye it looked as if Tina had listened to his instructions and an excess of adrenaline pumped through his veins as for the second time in two days he lifted a heavy bag.

  Chapter Ten

  Not my car

  Even before 8 a.m., and in spite of the fact that it was Shelley’s birthday, Martin was in Incident Room One and was working on the columns of information he had set up the previous afternoon.

  The detective had his mind firmly focused on the task of finding a missing boy and bringing in a ruthless kidnapper.

  The man still basked in the memory of the love that he and Shelley had shared prior to the five hours’ dreamless sleep that he believed it had allowed him.

  It was not unusual at the start of a case for Martin to go for nights without sleep as his brain refused to shut down and insisted on analysing the smallest of details whenever his head hit the pillow. At a critical point during his last case he had discovered that a walk to the beach in his hometown of Llantwit Major, followed by a couple of pints at one of the pubs had provided the off-switch his mind needed. Now he had discovered another and it gave him a warm glow just thinking about it.

  Thank God Shelley was not one of these silly women who would worry about her birthday plans being set aside to accommodate his job. With any luck the day would bring about the result that was needed and their evening with four friends at Llanerch Vineyard would still go ahead. For the moment Martin couldn’t second guess that possibility and his mind was now firmly on the job.

  Matt arrived with two cups of coffee and for a second Martin wondered how much longer he would be in his current post and Matt in his. He had heard whispers that the changes in the current review of services were going to be more draconian than had first been anticipated, but he didn’t know for certain which of several options would be chosen. He did know that in all the scenarios he had been consulted on Matt would come out very well and he wished he could tell him so, but for now he could only thank him for the coffee.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Helen,’ said Matt. ‘There have been no further developments at the house overnight but we didn’t really expect there to be. As far as the kidnapper is concerned Tina would only about now be getting his ransom note through the post and having to make arrangements to comply with the demands.

  ‘The reality is that there are now very sophisticated gadgets available and amongst the notes that will be delivered from the bank later is the tiniest but most efficient tracking device that has ever been made. According to Charlie, Q from the Bond films would have waxed lyrical about the device. She couldn’t resist telling me that her grandfather had been friends with Desmond Llewelyn, the actor who played Q, and apparently the man himself was completely clueless with technology.

  ‘I’ve had an email from Charlie and from what I can gather she was here most of the night and Alex stayed to help her. They have done as requested and much more – so no surprise there.

  ‘All the photographs have been studied and by picking out bits and pieces from a multitude of backgrounds she has come up with the image of a man wearing a white jacket and possibly white trousers and carrying a large bag. I really believe that this is our kidnapper.

  ‘We’ve had two good responses from your television appeal and the elderly couple who were identified on one of the photographs are on their way here now. They didn’t see the news item last night but they heard the appeal on the radio this morning and remember being passed by a cricketer so that could be our man.

  ‘The other response was from the group of Welsh speakers that were identified by Tina. Apparently they left St Fagans not long after she had seen them. They had been planning to stay the day but had received a phone call to say that a family member,
a grandmother I think, had been involved in an accident. She had been taken to hospital in Wrexham and so that’s where they went.

  ‘It took them over four hours to get there and then they were waiting for news of their relative so they also missed the evening television appeal. I believe they were in the hospital most of the night and must at some point have become aware of what had happened at St Fagans. Charlie says they rang here about 2 a.m. and she was asked to speak to them.

  ‘They are adamant that they saw no one even vaguely resembling a cricketer, but they do remember a little boy with ginger hair sitting on the grass and they remember passing a woman with blue streaks in her hair who was leaning against a wall and smoking.

  ‘Their relative is apparently in a critical condition but the family has said that if they can be of any help in finding the kid they will drive here later today. Charlie doesn’t think they’ll be able to tell us anything else, but as she says in her email she’s not a detective.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ replied Martin, ‘but she’s a bloody good member of the team.’

  ‘She certainly is, guv, and I’ve saved the best of her lengthy email until last,’ said Matt. ‘Every CCTV camera at St Fagans has been scrutinised and the man in white was picked up going back to the car park. Unfortunately the tapes are unable to pick up which car he makes for but do give us the time he entered the car park. Apparently there was some confusion with the wrong tapes being brought to Goleudy and Charlie was too tired to wait any longer. She left instructions with her team to look at every car that left after the point the kidnapper was spotted and to involve uniformed officers to follow up registration numbers or whatever.

  ‘When I arrived I was confronted by a very excited Sgt Evans who couldn’t wait …’

  As if on cue Sgt Evans stuck his head through the door.

 

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