The Message
“Mr Gladstone,” said Jones, “I had an interesting chat with Philip Morrison, and amongst other things he helped us in our efforts to identify Peter Radford’s attacker.”
“Oh God, not that again. It’s done, dusted, put to bed, almost a fossil now.”
Prentice cut in, “So, there was no case to answer?”
“I’m not going to be drawn into that debate again.”
Jones took the baton. “A debate, so there was some doubt about it?”
Before Gladstone could reply Prentice tried to unsettle him. “Like the previous possible link between Olivia’s adoptive father and him being targeted, we have to explore anything else under that umbrella, in this instance, a distant motive for hurting her. I thought you’d appreciate that, being her natural father.”
“No comment. My turn, are you going to help me with these plods on my case? Because they literally are getting on my case!”
He stood up, glared at Prentice, ignoring Jones, and walked out. Jones offered a snap judgement. “I don’t like this guy, but I must say, he’s either a bloody good liar, or rock solid under pressure. Or maybe that is his genuine charm offensive.”
Chapter 27
When Martha threw the bagged padding on to his desk with the message in view, both Prentice and Jones appeared to have been struck dumb.
Olivia ventured a question. “Does this fit with your concern that Kieron is receiving gifts in exchange for something grotesque?”
All three detectives looked at her in astonishment. Jones broke ranks. “It seems there’s been a misunderstanding Olivia, we thought that the photo of Kieron at the Tower of London was reinforcement of the abductor’s intention to keep him. Not for a while, forever. If you take your mind back, DCI Prentice has always sensed that this person has a score to settle with you. It isn’t often a kidnapper gets in touch with the police, it’s almost always the family. This person is allowing us to take part in this preamble, even leaving clues to their identity and location. If a ransom was going to make an appearance it would be through you and Tom. This taunting isn’t typical of paedophiles either, the last thing they want is to be identified. What we don’t have experience to draw on is the taking of a child followed by bulletins of reassurance. It’s my guess that this will stop. There’s some strange reason for this behaviour and particularly, that although we initially were sure you were the target, it’s now Tom that has ‘let Kieron down.’ I know it’s hard to get inside the head of sick people such as this. But, if I’m right, and the bulletins cease, it could indicate that they believe they’ve got away with it. They are hiding in plain sight, and they will make a mistake. We have to be ready for that.”
Olivia nodded as if she got all that, thinking it made eminent sense out of the disconnected events. She said she was going to see her mother.
Prentice glared at Jones. “What was all that old pony? Wait, let me finish, I actually agree with you, but where the hell does this join up with your altar of facts and elimination?”
“No, no, no boss, I also said the middle ground was for the unconfirmed, the circumstantial, and the educated hunches. It’s called profiling in the police bible. We have to ask the questions even if they don’t have answers yet. Example, why go to London to send the photo? Why send love to one parent and give a reprimand to the other? It’s classic disassociation training. This bastard won’t feel safe until the kid doesn’t give a shit about his parents, and that will take some time. He wants to be the boy’s dad, and there will be a mother somewhere in the plan. We have to proceed with establishing the facts, such as whether it is Mitchell in the box, and whether it is the same person responsible for both the stun gun package and this photo? Asking who, doesn’t disqualify knowing why. I never said speculation was a waste of time, it can help, but only if we can connect it to something we know is relevant. I’m ready to engage with this guy’s personality, and look into Mitchell’s suicide, simply because they will either yield facts or they won’t.”
Martha said she needed a drink. Prentice glanced at Jones’ evidence board and wrote ‘surrogate parents’ in the very centre of the board. Then he turned to his Detective Inspector and said, “It’s the fatality of twelve years ago isn’t it? That’s what you’re getting at.”
“Yes sir, there’s nothing that we know that disqualifies that as a motive, unlike other hunches we’ve discussed. However, we should just plough on and keep an open mind. I don’t want to get trapped in that dubious quotation – ‘Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever is left must be the truth.’ This is a fluid crime, it’s still evolving.”
Jones disappeared to find Martha just as Prentice took a call. “Yes sir.”
“You’ve got your wish, it is set for the second of January. Keep it as low in profile as possible. I want him out of the ground and into forensics before anybody can alert the vampires of promoting public interest, in their tabloids.”
*
“So, let me get this right, you’re going to call her with an invitation to meet, with the boy. But you aren’t going to take the boy with you. So, what’s the point?”
“To raise expectations, she needs to see me, to hear that I care. To feel that his future is not going to be with her, if he’s to have a future. We’ve been nice to them, but they can’t be allowed to think I’m just on vacation with him. We need time for them to figure this out. Then we leave for good, but not before. They have to be convinced beyond any doubt, not just reasonable doubt.”
*
When Prentice called to let Angela know of the planned exhumation, she said she didn’t want to be at the cemetery, nor the forensics lab. She would wait patiently at home. “I’m dreading the news whichever way it turns out, but it will be better than not knowing. Thank you Inspector, I have one request. Please don’t let that floosy know about this.”
“Don’t worry on that score Mrs Mitchell, only those who need to know, will know. You’d be well advised to keep this to yourself, in fact I rang specifically to ask you to tell no one.”
He thought he heard her crying as the line disconnected.
*
Tom jumped off the train, grabbed a taxi and then called Olivia. “I came back, I’ll be at home in fifteen minutes.”
“Why?” The exasperation was evident.
“What? Why? Because they think some fucking pervert has our son. Are you drunk or something?”
“Tom, I said they thought it was a possibility, amongst others. It was a text, an update not a hundred page thesis. Anyway, they have a different take on it now.”
“What a bunch of arseheads. Look, after I get home, I’m going to see this Wallace guy, he’s the only one who’s spoken to Mitchell, or whoever it is impersonating him, if he really has turned into human fertiliser. These keystone cops are never gonna get him. Why don’t you help me instead of listening to them, they’re gobshites, the lot of them. The search has been cut back again and the posters they circulated are blowing round like tumbleweed. They weren’t capable of sticking them up properly, we’re just being handled while the odds of finding Kieron are draining away. Are you with me?”
“No I’m not Tom. I don’t blame you for getting wound up, but I want to contribute to finding our son by thinking rather than kicking out at those who are the only ones with the resources to nail this guy. I’ll have to go, I’ve just had a text. Christ! It’s him, it’s about the message on the padding. Hurry up Tom. Got to speak to Prentice.”
“Olivia, Olivia, shit.” Tom shouted at the driver. “Can you switch to Newcastle Police Station and put your foot down mate? It’s really important. Come on man, you’ll earn a decent tip.”
*
Two Months Earlier
“We’re almost ready to go. You aren’t having second thoughts are you?”
“No, but I’m still nervous.”
“We’ve been over it again and again. The Xmas Dinner is the perfect opportunity. They’ll both be there, probably pissed out of their skulls, and th
en we get rid of ‘grandpa babysitter’ now that we know that he and his wife have been booked. I’ll make the call, and the grandmother will be left with the kid. She’ll be no problem, she’s got dementia. She won’t even know what a stun gun looks like. Don’t worry, it’s just to make her compliant, I’m not going to use it on her. That fate awaits grandpa. What? I’ve told you it’s just to knock him on the head. For Christ’s sake that’s why it called a frigging stun gun. All you have to do is follow me to the house and when I give the signal that I’ve told him his daughter is in critical condition, you come up the street, ready to take the boy home. Once you have him in the car, I follow grandpa over to the hospital and make sure that he hears that his daughter isn’t there, it’s a hoax. I knock him out when he returns to his car, making sure that I’m seen. We keep our phones on, so we’re flexible, and can react to surprises. We can easily pull this off.”
“You’re more confident than I am George.”
Chapter 28
The air was thick with apprehension. The three detectives read Olivia’s text several times. ‘Hope you liked the photo at the Tower, he’s such a lovely boy. We could meet, but only briefly. Kieron won’t come to any harm if you don’t do anything stupid. This is a test of your trustworthiness, please do not screw it up. I’ll be in touch.’
Tom burst into the office and was shown the text. “My God Olivia, what the hell are you thinking? He’s telling you not to work with the police, let’s get out of here, now.”
“Shut up and sit down Tom,” commanded Olivia, “you need to know about the content of the previous communication on the padding, sent with the photograph. I threw it out, and would never have known of its existence had it not been for the police. It said - ‘Kieron sends his love to Mummy. He feels let down by his father.’ I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone because I don’t believe it’s true. This man wants to find our weaknesses, he seems to know a hell of a lot about us. This is intended to provoke you into doing something stupid, and you’re straining at the leash to fall into the trap. We have to keep our heads. You can’t see that can you? Why the hell didn’t you stay in London?”
Tom was devastated by the thought that his son might feel that he hadn’t done enough to rescue him. His eyes filled up, and his voice became unsteady. “Ok, you lot can mess about here, I’ll do what I said Olivia. I want to speak with this Wallace guy. I want to do something positive and he’s the only person to see this monster close up. Maybe if I talk with him he’ll remember something he ain’t told us. Inspector, can you give me his address?”
Prentice squirmed, trying to choose his words carefully. “He may not want to be involved any further, after all he did suffer quite a shock after speaking with the assailant.”
“Yes, but it ain’t against the law for me to ask him is it?”
“No, of course not, but if he doesn’t want to engage in this, you have to respect his wishes.”
“Fine, just give me his number and I’ll call him now.”
Olivia tried to dissuade him from any action which could prejudice the proposed meeting. “What else can Mr Wallace tell us Tom? He identified Mitchell in person and from the picture we saw ourselves, that’s it. I think we should concentrate on keeping Mitchell happy, he could make contact again any minute and we need to be prepared.”
“Bloody typical Olivia, I’ve never been any use at anything in my whole life, absolutely bugger all. Except taking care of that little boy. Someone who wasn’t smarter than me, someone who relied on me completely. Someone I love more than I can find the words to express it to anybody who wants to listen. And what happens? Without even lifting a finger, you manage to usurp even that from me. He loves you, but feels I’ve let him down.”
The awkward silence was brought to an end when Tom pushed his wife in the chest. She fell backwards over Martha and cracked her head on a radiator. Blood trickled from her temple as she lost consciousness.
The fracas caught the attention of those in the general office and someone alerted uniform. Martha immediately called for an ambulance while Prentice and Jones restrained an apologetic Tom. He was eventually led into a holding cell in handcuffs.
*
Jones was the first to start thinking on his feet again. “Olivia’s phone indicates ‘unknown number’ but we can get on to the provider and see what they can do to trace it. She was at home when it was received. It’s worth a try. Martha, you might know, what would happen if we just tried to reply to the text from Olivia’s phone, as if we were her? Can we do that without even knowing the number? I get loads of texts like this from marketing companies, inviting me to reply.”
“I guess it’s worth a try, but shouldn’t Olivia have to give her consent?”
“Yeah, and when will that be? She might not be able to go to this meeting now. And what do we do if we get instructions on her phone?”
Prentice said they had to take a breath and consider the possible consequences before they boxed themselves into a corner with this guy. Jones didn’t take issue with this, and jumped tracks with another question. “When Tom said that maybe Wallace could remember something else, he had a point. He was indeed the only one to see and speak to the attacker, and mention the earring. The blow-up of the still footage is so grainy, and it was dark, with poor street lighting, so poor that our imaging boys can’t possibly discriminate pixels from adornments as small as an earring. None of the others knew of Mitchell’s accessory, so they wouldn’t know in which ear he wore it. Wallace might. I feel a bit sorry for Tom. He’s a hell of a drama queen but who wouldn’t be if they’d been assimilated by the Radford clan. I’ll give Wallace a call myself.”
*
Twelve Years Earlier
“Edward, I know what you’re proposing is well-intended, and I’m touched, but it won’t bring James back. I need to grieve, you need to grieve, and we should be doing that together. This obsession of yours will end badly, it might even push us apart.”
“I can’t let go Angela, not yet. We had accepted that we were going to lose him, but they gave us fresh hope. The spat they had could well have caused the delay in responding to whatever triggered the concern. If another James was to become a guinea pig, what have they learned? Medical science has to move on just as you say we have to. That can’t happen if the cause of failure is flushed down the toilet. Philip Morrison wants this can of worms to be investigated, and he’s got a lot to lose by refusing to let the truth be buried. Try as I might, I can’t let James down by shrinking away from a challenge which is dwarfed by his own courage. I can’t erase the trust he had in us when we told him there was hope. Most adults would walk away from such a chance in a million, he believed us.”
“I know all this, but that lawyer of ours worries me. He’s not concerned with morality, he wants notoriety for himself and at our expense. We could end up penniless and he just drifts away.”
“I can see the risk, believe me, but the deceit and hypocrisy is driving me mad, and the lawyer is certain we can force a wider inquiry with the help of Morrison. We deserve to know the truth Angela, even if we don’t like it when we hear it. The same applies to Gladstone and that surgeon. It might save the life of some other poor kid. Don’t you see that it isn’t much different to organ donation? If James’ death can save another’s life by an open inquiry, he didn’t die in vain.”
“Yes, I do see. I still have misgivings but I’ll support you as far as I can.”
*
Derek Wallace was more than willing to help Jones. He, like the entire country, now knew that Kieron was missing. “Ok Derek, I just wanted to run over things again. Can you think back to the moment you noticed Peter Radford lying prone in the car park? Particularly the direction you took from the hospital entrance, the pay machine, where your car was, and other people or things you might have noticed.”
“Ok. I came out of the main door and fiddled in me coat pocket for the parking ticket and the change, I’d put the money aside for the ticket, you see
. The machine was straight ahead, but quite a walk, mind. Once I’d paid, I had to get me bearings again. I knew the car was somewhere over to the left, but I had to turn around and follow the path back the way I’d come, for about twenty-five yards. I turned right and saw me car. You know, the car park was pretty empty like, at that time of night. I didn’t see the poor fella at first. Now, just a minute, there was a couple to the right, over the other side of the park, she was playing hell about something. I thought it must be the ticket machine, because one of them was faulty, it’s been like that for a while. Anyway, as I walked to unlock me car I pressed the key a few yards before I reached it. I don’t like these new-fangled gadgets. The lights flashed and I think it was that blinking of those lights that drew my attention to the man lying on the ground, aye, it must have been the lights. It was very dark that night. He was straight ahead of me. As I told you last time, I thought he had a leak or something. I asked if I could help and when there was no reply I walked over to him and saw the blood. I panicked and was pleased when that bloke and his bairn came by.”
“Can I just stop you for a moment Derek? Could this ‘bloke’ have been the same one who was arguing at the other side of the car park?”
“I doubt it, like I said he had a bairn with him.”
“I know, but try to forget the boy for a moment. What about his appearance? Was he the same sort of height, build, wearing the same kind of clothes, or anything else?”
“Well yes, I suppose so. He was bald, and tall, I can’t say about the clothes and all that. Maybe it was him. Come to think about it, the bloke with the kid came out of nowhere. I didn’t see anyone else in the car park as I walked to me car. And he came from behind, the direction of the couple who were having a tiff.”
“This is very important Derek, and then I’ll get out of your hair. On which side did the bloke with the boy wear this earring you mentioned? Think carefully before you say anything.”