DCI James Hardy Series Boxset

by Jay Gill

  For a while she’d heard Lyle calling her, insisting she come back; she was worried for her safety. That had stopped, and she hoped Lyle would give up and leave her alone.

  Alice came to a small clearing where a large tree had fallen and the ground was thick with bracken. She waded into the bracken until she felt well hidden. The bracken was tall, some of it taller than her, and as she lay down, it enveloped her. Looking up, she could no longer see the moon or stars, only the tips of the tall plants.

  Shivering, she curled up on her side and wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she hadn’t left her coat. Feeling miserable, cold and hungry, she tugged at the bracken and tried to cover herself as best she could to keep warm. She winced as she touched the cut on her foot. She could see it had stopped bleeding; that was something, at least.

  She thought about home and wished she were in her bed. Too exhausted to cry, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  When Alice awoke, it was light. It took her a second or two to recall where she was and what was happening. She was icy cold and, at first, found it difficult to move. As quietly as she could, she got to her hands and knees and crawled towards the edge of the thick green bracken.

  She smiled; she was pleased with herself. Her dad would be proud. She’d escaped her captor and now just needed to find a way to home or let them know she was safe.

  As she emerged from the bracken, she almost bumped into a pony and her foal. The pony’s big doe-like eyes looked at her with disinterest, while the foal skip-trotted to the safety of its mother’s side.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Do you know the way out of here?”

  Alice noticed the ponies were on a well-worn path, a path probably made by centuries of ponies and cattle moving that way. It made sense to follow the path and hope it came to a road or house, somewhere she could raise the alarm.

  After what felt like an hour of walking, she came to a stream. The water looked crystal clear, and she stepped down into it. The cold water on her sore feet felt good. She scooped at the water and drank.

  She looked around and wondered which way to go next. The bank on the far side of the stream was muddy, and she could see hoof prints where ponies and cattle had passed that way. She decided that following the ponies had got her this far and it made sense to continue along their path.

  As she negotiated the muddy bank, a noise caught her attention. She stopped moving and held her breath. There it was again: the sound of a car. Her heart began to thump with excitement. A car meant people and safety and a way to get home.

  Quickening her pace, Alice ran in the direction she’d heard the car. After a few false turns, overgrown paths and dead ends, she reached the road. The sight of it filled her with joy.

  She stood on the edge of the tarmac, waiting and listening and looking up and down the road. But after what felt like thirty minutes with no traffic passing, she decided she needed to keep moving. After all, this was a country road and the car she’d heard might be the only car passing this way all day.

  It felt natural to go right. Alice stepped out onto the tarmac and began walking. She stepped quickly at first, trying to keep herself warm, then slowed to a comfortable rhythm. After the uneven, muddy paths, the tarmac felt good and solid, and walking was far more comfortable on her scratched and muddy sandalled feet.

  After walking what felt like miles, she began to wonder if she should have gone the other way. She’d seen nothing, not even a pony. She stopped at a bridge and stepped down the bank to get some water from the stream. As she got back up on the road, she caught sight of movement far off in the distance at what seemed to be a crossroads. Squinting her eyes, she saw shapes that looked like people.

  Yes, they were people: they had bikes. As she stared longer, their shapes fell into place and made sense. They were cyclists, two of them, wearing those brightly coloured, skin-tight clothes that cyclists wear. They were standing with their bikes, leaning against them.

  Alice began to run towards them, waving and calling out.

  “Hello, help! I need help! Can you hear me? Please help me.”

  She was too far away. She doubled her pace and waved and called. Her mind was screaming, “Please look up, please look this way. You’ve got to help me.”

  As she ran and waved and screamed at the cyclists, a new noise grabbed her attention. She looked over her shoulder. A car was approaching. A terrified murmur escaped her mouth.

  Alice began running faster and faster and faster. She knew she had to run like never before. She had to get to the safety of the cyclists and away from the car. And away from Kelly Lyle.

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Alice could see the cyclists’ faces now: a man and a woman who looked about the same age as Nana Hardy. She felt sure they’d have a phone and would let her use it to call Daddy.

  Panting, almost sobbing, she looked back and saw that Lyle’s car had slowed to a crawl behind her. Lyle was watching her through the windscreen, smiling to herself.

  She hoped that if she could get close enough to the friendly cyclists Lyle would leave her alone.

  Finally, the cyclists looked up, smiled, and waved back at Alice. Their smiles changed to looks of concern as they realised the young girl running towards them was in distress. They stopped reading their maps and watched her.

  The sound of Lyle’s car behind her grew louder as it picked up speed.

  She was crying now as she ran, tears almost blinding her. Her side was hurting, her cut foot throbbed, her legs ached, but she pushed herself harder, forcing one leg in front of the other. She could hear the car getting closer; it was right behind her. She wasn’t going make it; she wouldn’t get there in time. The friendly couple were too far away. Alice didn’t feel fast anymore. She felt slow, heavy and clumsy. “Please help me,” she called. Her voice sounded high and strange in her ears.

  Still running flat-out, she looked over her shoulder again. Lyle’s car was only inches away from her. Her breath burst from her chest in a guttural sob of anguish and frustration.

  Then, to her surprise, the car moved out from behind her and came alongside. Lyle looked at her then looked straight ahead at the friendly couple.

  The car began to roar as it accelerated.

  Alice watched in horror as it hurtled towards the couple, then suddenly veered off the road and ploughed straight into them.

  She was rooted to the spot as she saw the man smashed aside and the woman crushed beneath the wheels of the car. She watched, terrified, as Lyle drove the car back and forth over the helpless couple. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed in shock.

  Lyle reversed the car back up the road until it was alongside her. She got out and walked around the car and lifted the sobbing girl like a sack of mail. She carried her to the car, yanked open the rear passenger door and placed her on the back seat.

  “They died because of you,” said Lyle, leaning over her. “You caused that.”

  Alice closed her eyes and pictured the bloodied and broken bodies at the side of the road. She began to shake uncontrollably, and her breathing became rapid and out of control. She thought she might be sick.

  Lyle stroked Alice’s hair and said, “Slow your breathing. You’re safe now. I told you you’d be safe with me. I don’t know why you ran away. All you’ve done is waste our time together. You know this means I have to punish you, don’t you?”

  Alice stared helplessly into space and paid no attention as Lyle popped a tablet in her mouth and asked her to swallow it. She handed Alice a bottle of water.

  “Drink this water. The tablet will calm you down. Just relax. You are going to want to get some rest. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  Her limbs felt heavy as her body sank into the car seat. She didn’t want to give up, but she’d done her best, and it wasn’t good enough. What else could she do? Where was Daddy? Why had nobody come to rescue her? Would she ever see Monica or Faith again?

  She closed her eyes and heard Lyle put the car into gear on
ce more.

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  The nursing home had once been an inn rumoured to have been frequented by highwayman Dick Turpin in 1736 while he evaded authorities.

  Over the years the property had passed through many hands before being converted to a hotel in 1957. More recently, it had been renovated and converted to a premium residential care facility for the elderly. Currently, according to a sign, work was underway to allow an additional twenty-four rooms and a large conservatory. Also, the gardens were being tastefully landscaped, and an outdoor theatre added.

  My car slid on the car park gravel as I came to a halt in one of the many parking spaces. I jumped out of the car and ran to reception.

  “I’m here to see a resident called Mrs Allerton,” I said.

  “James Hardy?” replied the duty nurse. “I’m Nurse Holt. I’ve been expecting you. Follow me.”

  I followed her along several corridors to the spacious room belonging to Mrs Allerton.

  Nurse Holt turned to me and spoke in a low voice. “I’m not sure how much help she will be. Mrs Allerton has memory difficulties. I did explain this to your colleague on the phone.”

  I held open the door and said, “Would you mind waiting outside while I speak with Mrs Allerton? A young girl has gone missing, and there is a possibility she can help with the investigation.”

  “I’ll be at my desk behind reception if I can be of any assistance.”

  I thanked her and closed the door, and Nurse Holt returned to her duties.

  Mrs Allerton was seated in one of a pair of armchairs, a blanket over her knees. She watched me with intense curiosity. She pointed a crooked finger at me and said, “They tell everyone I’ve lost my mind, you know. I might be a little forgetful, I might even repeat myself occasionally, but I haven’t lost my marbles. Not completely, as far as I know.”

  She smiled sweetly and gestured towards a chest of drawers. “I know why you’re here, and we’ll get to that, but before you sit down, be a dear and open that wash bag. The one on top of the chest of drawers there, next to my books.”

  I opened the wash bag and showed her a small bottle of brandy. “Is this what you’re wanting, Mrs Allerton?”

  She grinned and nodded. “Yes, yes. There is a glass and a cup by the sink; you can have the cup. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a drinking partner. And call me Theresa.”

  I poured us both a stiff shot. Theresa giggled as she took her glass and raised it.

  “Good health,” she said. “You know, there’s a black market in this place for booze. Prohibition always fails.”

  She sipped the brandy and watched me as I sipped mine. Patting the seat beside her, she said, “Come and sit here. You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  I wanted quick answers, and I wasn’t feeling patient in the slightest, but I decided the way to get what I needed was to listen to Theresa.

  “Kelly was a beautiful baby,” she began without prompting. “I couldn’t have asked for an easier child. She was never any trouble. All Kelly ever wanted to do was please her father and me. She adored him. She would help him on the farm, and they’d spend hours together.

  “Sadly, that all changed when his drinking started. For some reason, it got out of control. He was a good man before that. The drink made him paranoid, depressed and violent. Extremely violent. So much so that I feared for Kelly’s safety and my own. I’d been thinking about it a long time, but one night – Kelly must have only been 11 years old at the time – I’d had enough. I waited until he was asleep and I lifted her out of her bed and attempted to leave with her.

  “Unfortunately, I woke him when I started the car. He came after me with a shotgun. He fired a warning shot at the car, which caused me to swerve and stall the engine. I got it going again and reversed the car, but by the time I’d straightened up, he was in front of us pointing the shotgun at the windscreen. I can still picture the fury in his eyes. I know he would have killed us both.”

  Theresa took a long sip of brandy. “He dragged Kelly from the car and pointed the gun at me. He told me to leave and never come back. Leaving Kelly with him is the biggest regret of my life. I can never forgive myself for leaving my little girl with that monster. Kelly is who she is today because of me.”

  I hesitated before asking, “Do you think she killed her father?”

  Theresa took a tissue from her cardigan sleeve and dabbed her nose. “She did what she had to. Don’t you see? She was still a child when I abandoned her. I’m to blame for everything that followed, not her. Not my Kelly.”

  Theresa held out her glass, and I topped it up. I leaned forward and said, “Kelly has my daughter, my little girl. Can you tell me where she is?”

  The old lady’s eyes brimmed with tears. She reached down beside her chair and pulled out a plain envelope. With a trembling hand, she passed it to me. “Kelly asked me to give you this. She said you’d come.”

  I took the envelope and feared what I might find inside.

  Theresa said, “I am sorry. I hope you find your little girl. I lost my Kelly, the real Kelly, a long, long time ago. I hate the thought of your child being separated from the ones she loves.” She took my cup, poured the rest of my brandy into her glass and drank it down.

  I got to my feet, put the bottle of brandy back in the wash bag, washed the cup and glass and left Theresa to her thoughts. She didn’t look up as I left the room.

  Alone in my car, I ripped open the envelope. Inside was the address of Long Meadow Farm. I punched it into the satnav. With my heart pounding in my chest, I prepared myself for getting Alice back and the next stage of Lyle’s game.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Alice opened her eyes and could see nothing. She was in complete darkness. Her mind was confused. She knew she was no longer in the farmhouse. She could smell the water before she felt it. Terror took over as she tried to understand her surroundings. She tried to scream for help but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She splashed awkwardly around and could feel walls all around her, a low ceiling of some sort over her head.

  She attempted to move her legs; they felt numb and heavy. Her body felt awkward. She tried to straighten up but couldn’t lift herself. After much effort, she shifted herself slightly, which caused her head to slump forward and her face to fall into the water.

  Using all her concentration, she managed to lift her face out of the water and tilt her head back. She coughed and spluttered as she gasped for air.

  She was scared to move again, but she needed to sit upright. Pushing her feet was useless as she was barely able to feel her legs. Her head began to spin and she felt sick. She was going to vomit.

  Alice pressed her hands against the walls. Scratching them with her fingers, she realised they felt like hard plastic. She was in a container, a plastic prison that was filling with water. She tried to stay calm, but she could hear her heart pounding in her ears, almost as if it were outside her body. She took a shaky breath and tried with all her might to stand up, but nothing worked as it should. Her arms and legs felt like rubber. Her head spun queasily and, almost with relief, she shut her eyes.

  Alice regained consciousness with her head pressed against the side of the container. For a moment she hoped it had all been a nightmare, that she would open her eyes and find herself back in her room. The smell of plastic and vomit filled her nostrils. This nightmare is real.

  How long had she been like this? She must get out. Again, she tried to stand. She could move a little more now, but her body was still too heavy.

  She tried to scream but once more managed only a faint whisper.

  A slow but consistent flow of water was coming from over her head. With a start, she realised it was rising. Frantically, she tried again and again to lift her body higher in the water, aware that if she didn’t get out, she would drown and no one would ever know.

  After several minutes of unsuccessful effort, she sat still and tilted her chin up to keep her face o
ut of the water.

  Outside, she heard a noise. It was definitely a car.

  Was it Lyle?

  Alice remembered the friendly cyclists and what Lyle had done to them. She realised this watery prison was her punishment for trying to escape.

  Swallowing back her tears, she told herself Lyle wouldn’t win. She had to believe it. Alice called out again, and this time her voice was stronger. She yelled over and over until her head began spinning again.

  She remembered the tablet Lyle had given her and realised this was why she felt weird. Nodding to herself, she slowed her breathing and focused on getting her emotions under control. Passing out again would be dangerous. If she did, she might drown.

  Rain began drumming on the roof of the container. It was loud and getting louder, and she felt the water level creeping up. The storm was bringing more rain into her container.

  Staying upright was hard. She tried to lean forward, pulling her feet underneath her, so she was on her knees. If she could do that, she could lift her body higher out of the water. Her arms felt weak, but she managed to grab her left ankle and pull it towards her and then underneath her. She reached out for the other ankle. This leg felt numb, like it didn’t belong to her.

  She tried to move her right ankle under her, but there wasn’t enough room. The sole of her sandal pressed against the side of the container. The more she pulled it, the more her leg became wedged.

  Alice tried to lean forward and shift her position, but it was useless. She would have to wait and hope she got rescued or pray that Lyle decided to let her out.

  Either way, she realised, all she could do was wait.