HE WILL FIND YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Who? Your groundworker mate?’

  ‘Yeah, bit of a scally in his time. Straight as now, but still trying to keep his-self to his-self — you know the sort.’

  Maddie nodded. She knew them only too well. ‘I don’t care about him. Who bought it off you?’

  ‘I didn’t get no name.’

  ‘You wrote him a receipt though? You took his address for the forms?’

  ‘I told you, I don’t do that. I never owned the lorry. I was spinning it for my mate. He might have filled it all out like — none of my business.’

  Maddie tried another smile. She played with her hair, too. It was a way of concealing her rising panic, her desperation. She was getting nowhere here. She’d seen it enough times, the lorry would have been declared off-road then sold on, with the man stood in front of her acting as the middle man. No one took anyone’s details at any time. Even if this man wanted to help, Maddie was starting to realise that he couldn’t.

  ‘What did he look like?’ Maddie’s voice was noticeably different, coarser, where her throat had suddenly dried up. She could feel her heart beating faster in her chest. She didn’t know where they went next, if this line went nowhere. There was nothing else.

  ‘It wasn’t really him; the bird did the talking.’

  Maddie ran her hand over her mouth and suddenly stood straighter. ‘Bird? You mean a woman?’

  The man chuckled. ‘Sure, whatever! Bird, woman, bint. I didn’t get her name either, though. Some fella called me up about it to start with. It was odd really . . . he didn’t really care much about it — just that it was a runner and that it had a tow bar.’

  ‘A tow bar?’

  ‘Yeah. They’re pretty rare, I reckon. You get the pikeys . . . they want a tow bar for their caravans an’ boxes an’ that. But most people don’t care. My mate had some plant on a trailer so he fitted a bar. I guess this fella was doing the same.’

  ‘So it had a tow bar?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘But a woman turned up with the cash?’

  ‘She did. The bloke was here, too — at least I guess it was the same fella on the phone. He didn’t say a dicky. I got the impression he was trying to scare me maybe. He just sort of stared me out. From a distance, though. He weren’t brave enough to get up in my face or nothin’. And then they paid the full asking — straight off.’

  ‘What did they look like?’

  ‘I ain’t writing none of this down, yeah? This ain’t on no record?’

  ‘No record.’ She tried to act casual despite her stomach turning.

  ‘I dunno, a man and a woman! She had, like, brown hair. Down. A nice set of tits. What do you want from me?’

  ‘Slim build?’

  ‘Yeah. Nice like! You know what I mean?’

  ‘And him?’

  ‘I didn’t take much notice. Like I said, he stayed away really. Me an’ the woman talked out on the drive and he hung round near the road. Dark coat, hood up — which was weird. It weren’t cold or nothing.’

  ‘Hood up?’

  ‘Yeah. Oh and I think he’d hurt himself. He had a bandage on his hand.’

  ‘Which hand?’ Maddie couldn’t hide her desperation now.

  The man looked puzzled then turned his body a little as if working it out. ‘Woulda been his left hand I reckon. Oh an’ she called him her brother I think.’

  ‘Brother?’

  ‘Yeah, she pointed and said about how her brother was well happy. They didn’t strike me as no couple from the off to be fair.’

  ‘You remember the registration of that lorry?’

  ‘Not all. It was a fourteen plate. And the last three was E.K.O. I remember that ’cause my mate called it Echo.’

  ‘I need your name,’ Maddie snapped. She needed to leave — and she knew exactly where they needed to go. But she’d need absolute confirmation.

  ‘I told you, I ain’t writing none of this down.’

  ‘And I told you I need to make sure no one comes looking for you if this lorry does something criminal. Right now, you’re the only person linked. Give me your name and I’ll put an intelligence report in that says I’ve spoken to you, that you sold the lorry and you should be left alone.’ She handed him a piece of scrap paper. Write it on there, I need to make a quick call then I’ll leave you alone.’

  The man hesitated, but took the pen and paper that she thrust at him. Maddie pushed a contact on her phone.

  Mitch Evans picked up on the first ring. ‘Mads?’

  ‘Mitch, there’s a shared folder under CID. Rhiannon made it. It’s called Op Hythe.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘There’s a jpeg file in there. Headshot of a male. Rhiannon got it from the DVLA. It’s his driving licence picture.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I need you to send it to my phone right now.’

  ‘Okay!’

  Maddie hung up. The man was holding the piece of paper out for her.

  ‘Gerry,’ she read. ‘Gerry Holt.’

  ‘That’s me. I’ve put my phone number on there, too — y’ know, should you need it.’ He actually winked. Maddie smiled back, she hoped it looked like she meant it.

  ‘Date of birth? And is this your home address?’

  He gave his details quickly and she scribbled his answers under where he had written his name. Her phone vibrated in her other hand. She had to suck in a breath to work it — her hands were shaking. She opened up the attachment. It was a stern-looking male. His expression looked like it was about to break out into a snarl. She turned it for Holt to look at.

  ‘That’s ’im. Same look he gave me, too. Maybe I shouldn’t take it personal like.’ Holt laughed heartily. Maddie didn’t. She felt suddenly overwhelmed. She held it together and pushed the phone back into her pocket.

  ‘Thanks for your help.’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t reckon I’ve been much.’

  ‘If that makes you feel better!’ She called back. She ran the length of the drive. Harry and Vince were both stood by the car.

  ‘We need to go!’ She pulled the door open and slid in. The two men were in the car by the time she buckled up, their doors slamming in unison.

  ‘What have you got?’ Harry said.

  ‘Rhiannon was investigating our blood-soaked boy, Alex Thompson. We know he had siblings — an older brother and sister. They bought that lorry. Rhiannon had got his driving licence photo from the DVLA. His sister doesn’t have a driving licence. Neither of them have passports . . .’

  ‘Wait . . . who bought the lorry?’

  ‘Alex Thompson’s brother and sister — Mark and Michelle Garner.’

  ‘Okay . . .’

  ‘And from the description, I reckon I’ve met Michelle. She was the waitress at the Ports Café, Harry. I gave her my business card!’

  Vince turned the engine on. The car revved hard and jerked to the end of the drive. The lights were already spinning and the siren announced their departure as the streaming traffic jerked to a halt to let them out.

  Chapter 30

  Maddie tutted. She had put her phone down for it to ring again immediately. She had been speaking with the FCR, updating the inspector based there as best she could. He had dedicated a radio channel for what was now an operation and he was best placed to direct the required resources to the Ports Café. Maddie and Harry had managed a brief conversation with each other and formed the same intention. They were going to get to the café as soon as possible and they would start making arrests — anyone who was there and looked to be an employee or was in the least bit obstructive. Once they had someone under arrest, they had search powers and they would tear that place apart. Rhiannon had to be there. Maddie couldn’t allow herself to think any differently.

  Vince was still forcing his way through the dense traffic. The car burst out onto a roundabout and a van approaching from the right only just stopped in time. Maddie was sitting in the back and just a few feet from the near-collision. She managed to cling onto her phone to
answer it.

  ‘Maddie Ives.’ She peered between the front headrests and through the windscreen. It was starting to spot with large drops of rain. Vince now pulled out into a bus lane to make progress.

  ‘You’re too late.’

  A taxi pulled across their front. Vince swerved, swore loudly, and braked hard. Even Harry’s hand reached up for the grab handle.

  ‘What?’ Maddie pushed the phone harder against her ear. The voice was soft and low, a woman’s voice. She didn’t recognise it.

  ‘You’re too late. He’s gone. He’s taken her.’

  ‘Who — who is this?’

  ‘By now I reckon you know who I am.’ The voice was suddenly more familiar: the woman who had spoken to her in the café, Alex Thompson’s sister.

  ‘Michelle Garner?’ Maddie said. The name had been in Rhiannon’s notes and Maddie must have read it ten times with no way of knowing that Michelle might hold the key all along.

  ‘There’s no point coming here. He’s not here. You’re too late. But you can still catch up with him.’ Maddie’s eyes met with Harry’s; he had spun in his seat with a questioning look. He must have picked up on her sudden change of tone. She moved the phone away and wrapped her hand around the mouthpiece.

  ‘Vince, kill the sirens!’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do it, now!’ Maddie hissed back. Vince mashed the steering wheel with his palm. Two strikes killed the noise. The console still flashed with the lights. He jerked sharp right and Maddie had to jam her feet under the front seats to ground herself. She pressed the button on her phone to activate the speaker, levelled the phone out and leaned forward. Harry stared at it silently.

  ‘How would you know if we were coming?’

  ‘You found who sold us the lorry. You’re on your way here. I knew you were getting close — I was trying to get him back before you worked it out. But I’ve lost him. I can’t control him anymore. You have to stop him now. Stop him before—’

  ‘Before what? What are you talking about? Who?’

  ‘You know that, too, I reckon.’

  ‘Your brother?’

  ‘Mark. But it’s been a long time since I’ve called him that.’ Mark Garner; another name she had read a number of times in her colleague’s notes.

  ‘Where is he, Michelle?’

  There was a pause and then the sound of quiet sobbing. The voice came back a little stronger. ‘You have to know . . . I was only doing this to protect my family . . . to try and keep us all together. That’s all my mum wanted. She told me I had to keep us together. I didn’t know what else to do.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s just turned off. He was on the main road. He’ll be in Monks Horton soon. He’ll find a place that’s right. He’s used there before, and then . . .’

  ‘And then what, Michelle? What are you telling me?’

  ‘I never wanted anyone else hurt. I know she’s not part of this — she’s not part of them. I did what I could to stall him. I can’t do any more. You have to do the rest. I’m so sorry.’ The phone went silent. Maddie stared at the screen.

  ‘What is going on, Maddie?’ Harry said.

  ‘I don’t know. No number. I can’t call her back. But that was her — that was our waitress.’

  ‘So the second we left that fella, he called her direct and told her the police had been sniffing around?’

  ‘He must have.’

  ‘We need him in.’

  ‘I agree, but we need to find the brother first. He has Rhiannon. She said she couldn’t stall him anymore, Harry! He’s going to hurt her!’

  ‘Vince, do you know that location?’

  Vince pointed a stubby finger at the car’s touchscreen. ‘I brought up the A20 on the mapping system. This is our road from what she said. It comes right off the A20 and it’s a left through the middle of Monks Horton. It looks like a tiny village. Can we trust her, though, boss? I mean . . . if she knows we’re on our way she could just be stalling us? How would she know exactly where he was if she wasn’t with him?’

  ‘I agree. We need to get to the café. That place holds the key — it always has. I’ll get whatever patrols we have there, too. But we’ll have to try for an invisible perimeter on the place. We’re expected now — we don’t know what the threat is. It’ll need a full tactical assessment for patrols to pitch up. I’ll call the firearms commander. They can make the first approach.’

  ‘I think she’s telling the truth!’ said Maddie. ‘We have to go where she said!’ She was aware she sounded desperate. ‘A firearms entry will take time, Harry. A lot of time. They’ll want to know the ins and outs of every detail and then it’ll be a negotiator leading. We don’t have the time for that! Rhiannon doesn’t have the time for that.’

  ‘No, Maddie. Maybe we should consider every detail. Maybe we should take our time. When I start sending officers in there, Rhiannon isn’t the only person I might be putting in harm’s way.’

  Vince was rubbing his fingers over the screen, moving the map around. ‘We could come in this way, boss. That almost makes Monks Horton on the way. We could go just to see if anything was moving. We wouldn’t lose much time at all.’

  Maddie leaned forward to where Vince was pointing at a junction that looked to be a sharp turn off the A20. It was a short road, quickly joining up with another that looked to run parallel to the A20. It would allow them to still be heading in the general direction of the café while putting them in the area that Michelle Garner had told them about.

  Harry was silent. Maddie waited for him to dig in. He relented. ‘Okay then. Map says the deviation makes a couple of minutes difference. We’re seven minutes from that junction.’

  ‘Seven minutes!’ Maddie blurted. Suddenly that felt like an age. She could feel her panic returning all at once. She had to get a hold of it; she couldn’t have Harry thinking she was panicked or he would be even less likely to listen to her. She remembered a grounding technique she had been taught that could give her back control. She reached out to grab the back of the seats and closed her eyes. She focussed on the touch of the fabric, on something she could feel. The siren started back up again to provide something she could hear, and she opened her eyes for something she could see. It was Harry. He was staring back at her and there was no doubting his own fear.

  * * *

  Jack tried to concentrate on his grip, on ignoring the searing pain through his wounded palm. The lorry was moving, the exhaust bumping against the steel frame with every shift in gear, the suspension wallowing over the surface and the lowered tailgate shaking and thumping with every undulation. The man’s driving was more erratic than ever tonight. The safer option would be to drop to his knees or to sit down on the steel flatbed. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be any closer to the plastic sheeting at his feet. He knew what was under it and what he was expected to do.

  He looked away. The woods were closing in; the road was at its narrowest yet and they were climbing up a steep hill. At least with the slower pace he could look forward over the top of the cab without his eyes being stung by raindrops. Now the rain was just a rhythm on the thick trees and the steel roof. His fingers hurt, too. He had wrapped them round the mesh of the cage that jutted backwards from the cab. He was just a few inches from the back of the driver, close enough to hear him when he barked his instructions through the window. They were near to where he had brought him before. From what he remembered, it wouldn’t be long after they topped the hill. The tight drop on the other side was where he was called into action the previous time. He scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He was so tired, physically and mentally. Mostly he was wearied by the same internal battles, the same indecision. He was tired of knowing what he should do and not having the bravery to go through with it. Instead he was still doing what he was told, and that meant being backed into the cold, soaking corner of a dark country lane, waiting for inevitable instructions. The truck slowed enough for him to check his waistband. He still h
ad the jagged knife he had been given when he had admitted to losing the last one. He hadn’t lost it; he’d left it sticking through a hurried message — a last and desperate attempt to end this madness. Then he had scuffed up the path to draw attention, but even if they had seen that and then found his scrawled note it might not mean anything to anyone. But maybe it would to Maddie Ives . . . whoever that was.

  The vehicle lurched forward and the brake lights drenched the sodden woods blood red. When the darkness returned, another light caught his eye. It flashed past a distant junction and before he had time to snatch his head to it, it was gone. The blanket of darkness returned instantly, as if the night was keen to fool him that it had even happened at all. But he knew what he had seen, he had seen a flickering light in the distance and it gave him the merest spark of hope. Because he was certain it had been blue.

  * * *

  ‘I saw a light!’ Maddie had undone her seatbelt and was leaning forward, her arms out and across both headrests. She pushed herself further forward now between the two seats. She moved her right hand to point at the mapping system on the car’s display.

  ‘There was a road back there! I saw brake lights!’ The car slowed, but it was a natural slow; Vince had eased off the pedal but he wasn’t braking. He wasn’t taking her word for it; he was looking over at Harry. ‘I’m telling you! I saw a set of red lights. It looked like they were on something big. It could be it! Spin it around!’

  ‘Boss?’ Vince queried. It was maddening. Maddie pushed herself back to sit straight. She thumped into the rear seat in shock and fury. She couldn’t believe she was being ignored, that Vince was looking for confirmation from Harry. Suddenly this didn’t feel like rank either. This was personal. She didn’t know what was stronger now, her rage or her desperation.

  ‘Turn the fucking car round, Vince! We need to go after it!’ Maddie was beyond any grounding technique to calm her down. Anger was the hardest form of panic to control.