The Message

  Chapter 10

  Xmas Eve

  Cartwright was already waiting for Prentice when he arrived. The stun gun was lying ominously on the desk. “Judging by the look on your face, you’ve got a hard-on in your trousers. Out with it then, the news, not the other.”

  “You made a good call DCI Prentice. There was no blank round, it is in fact powered by a small gas canister lodged inside the hand grip. I had a feeling it had been doctored, but my scanner couldn’t see inside the handle. Obviously there was no explosive device involved, it’s harmless in terms of opening the package. Maybe you won’t say that about the evidence which comes with it.”

  Prentice studied the object itself and a rainbow wristband underneath it. Cartwright chimed in again. “Let me show you how it operates. When I squeeze the trigger, this pops out.”

  The stun rod wasn’t flat-ended. There was a very sharp point on the strike end. Prentice gazed in amazement at the point. It had dried blood on it which extended almost an inch up the rod. “Christ, surely not? Cartwright?”

  “We don’t know yet. We have some of the boy’s things from which we can compare DNA, but I was thinking more about the wound in Peter Radford’s head. It’s about the right diameter from what I’ve been told. Worth a shout?”

  Prentice slumped into his chair, slightly more relaxed. “Of course, and we can check that out quickly. Come on let’s get to the hospital.”

  *

  Olivia and her mother were feeling really stiff after cat-napping on hospital sofas through the night. The discomfort was only punctuated by the regular cups of coffee. They were both good-naturedly blaming each other for spreading the yawning contagion, when Gladstone appeared. “It’s the news I’ve been waiting to deliver, ladies. You can see Peter briefly this morning, how about that? He continues to improve, but still hasn’t regained consciousness. He seems restful, the spasms haven’t returned, and the pressure relief on his brain is responding well to the surgical procedures he underwent. It has to be a brief visit because the IC staff are still taking lots of measurements, and we don’t want any distractions. He’s surrounded by lots of sophisticated kit, so I’d suggest observing from the foot of the bed. Olivia knew he was saying most of this for Pauline’s benefit, even though she wasn’t taking it all in. However, it wasn’t lost on her that she needed to check any impulsiveness from her mother, because she herself could be very upset seeing her father trussed up like the proverbial Christmas tree. She nodded appreciatively towards Gladstone. Tom had come straight to the hospital after checking in with Prentice late last night, and he was wandering the corridors like a mouse in a maze. Olivia knew he wouldn’t want to see her father and didn’t bother texting him or looking for him.

  However, his phone was on vibrate only, and he retrieved a text from his brother Michael. ‘Just as I thought, there’s absolutely no chance of Dad’s funeral taking place until the New Year. Catch you later T, seems stupid to say merry Xmas, so I won’t. M.’

  Prentice and Cartwright barrelled into the reception and the former asked to see Gladstone. When he recognised the smokescreen language, the request became a demand, backed up with his ID. “That’s Detective Chief Inspector, Ms or Madam, whichever you prefer, so at least get him on the blower, or there could be some very embarrassed red faces in the next few minutes. It’s not just important, it’s an emergency. I’ve come to the right place haven’t I? You do emergencies don’t you? Hello, I have to speak with the nice Mr Gladstone.”

  They were ushered to his office, and when Prentice had explained what they wanted, he was about to be brushed off with blah, blah. It was Cartwright who calmed the waters. “If I can talk to the surgeon who has treated Mr Radford, I probably don’t need to see the patient. We need to see X-rays and blood samples. Would that be acceptable?”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged, please sit down, I’ll ask him to join us.”

  *

  Jones had been thinking laterally, an ability he believed was inherited, not learned. Consequentially, he dismissed Martha’s potential in this field as non-existent. Since the revelation that Peter’s phone message was from Hamsterley Mill, a well-heeled estate, some of the residents might have CCTV security cameras. He sent her to check this out, telling her to concentrate on any loiterers and cars parked that night. He extended this principle and called the brass at the home venue of Newcastle United, because they had multiple cameras, and although it was a long shot, he might be able to spot Tom. Jones still worshipped at the altar of elimination.

  *

  Gladstone thanked the surgeon for making time in his busy schedule and acquainted him with the request. He seemed keen to help, acknowledging that he had been quite puzzled himself about the implement which had caused Peter’s wound. Even before he went to retrieve the X-rays and blood samples, he offered the use of their powerful on-site microscopes. Cartwright produced the stun rod and the surgeon immediately looked at it closely. He asked Cartwright to rotate it slowly. “Stop, go back a fraction. There, see that longitudinal notch in the point? I think that might well match up with the slight eccentricity I saw in the X-ray blow ups. At first I thought it was indented debris, which was disproved when I operated. Let me get them and show you what I mean.”

  Less than twenty minutes later, Cartwright was satisfied that the microscopes had shown this stun gun was a very good candidate to be the weapon they hadn’t found. However he wanted a second expert opinion. “I’d like Bev Watson, our pathologist, to look at this. I know we haven’t got a dead body, but her experience is available to us and should be accessed. I’ll take the blood samples and get someone to press on with the DNA check, and subsequent comparison with that on the stun rod. There may be prints on the hand grip too.”

  Prentice thanked the hospital staff, patted Cartwright on the back, urging him on his way. He strode off to round up Olivia and Tom. He found Olivia’s mother sitting with Gladstone’s secretary and asked Katherine if she knew where Olivia was. “Not exactly, let me page her for you.”

  “Great, can you do the same for her husband Tom Wickham?”

  “No problem, take a seat, I’ll ask them to come here.”

  It annoyed him intensely when they had to repeat the paging message several times before they sauntered into the room. Prentice gave himself time for his frustration to level itself. “Glad you could both join me. I just wanted to update you on some new information we’re working on. I suggest we talk in the restaurant, as long as we can find a quiet corner.”

  They nodded and smiled, Tom said they’d just come from there. They found a corner table, and declined any food or refreshment.

  “What I’m about to tell you will change the goalposts yet again. We have to remain adaptable and I think we may want to revisit some areas we’ve already looked at. Now, I know you’ve had some good news about your father Olivia, and that also, in a pragmatic way, allows me to sharpen the focus even more on the reason for Kieron being abducted, if and when that is proven beyond doubt. I may have jumped to a false conclusion but bear with me. One of the items we found in the package you received, Olivia, was this small wristband.”

  Tom’s head sank to the floor. Olivia burst into tears, uncontrollable tears. Prentice nudged Tom. He looked up, his face ashen. “It’s his, he’s never been without it for the last couple of years. He doesn’t even take it off for bed. Other kids have soldiers or dolls. Kieron gets tremendous comfort from the spectrum of intertwined colours. Do you think this means….?”

  “Not a question I can answer Tom, but I want to remind you both of my fascination with why he could have been taken. If the sender of this package proves to have snatched your son, it may actually be cause for optimism. Almost all of my experience in such cases, where an abductor taunts or teases both the parents and the police, comes with a demand of some kind. The most common of course is for ransom. We haven’t had that, and this was an opportunity for the package sender to lay out the terms. That leads me to believe the motive isn’t
money. Getting even somehow with the police can’t be ruled out, but with this package being dumped in the internal mail system of the hospital, I’d have thought getting even with one or both of you is more likely. We have to think hard on this. Now, Tom, we have a witness who claims to have seen Kieron with a man shortly after Peter was struck. If you’re willing you can take part in an identity parade. It might help get rid of the elephant in the room, as you put it.”

  “Well, bring it on. Then we can move on to this connection with the hospital you seem so sure about.”

  Chapter 11

  Prentice was in a race against time, virtually everything would grind to a halt the next day. He pulled Martha back from Hamsterley Mill security camera checks to hurriedly organise the line-up for Derek Wallace, hoping that he didn’t pick out Tom, primarily because of a gut feeling that he just didn’t fit.

  Cartwright’s name flashed up on his phone. “Prentice.”

  “We’ve done somersaults to get you this before all the merrymaking starts. Bev Watson concurs that the stun gun’s eccentric rod matches the perforation shown in the X-rays of Radford’s skull pretty well. She also found a sliver of bone stuck with the blood on the same rod. Radford’s blood is the same group as that on the rod, so although we haven’t found any evidence to the contrary, we still have to get full DNA results for the blood and this piece of bone. Bottom line is that there is a preponderance of converging evidence. I can’t see the DNA result throwing a spanner in the works, but we do need absolute proof, which you aren’t going to get today. What I can give you today is definite, there were prints on the handle, and yes, they are from the same person as those on Kieron’s tablet. So, we’re closing in on evidence which points to one individual. I have to leave it there for now.”

  “Thanks for spelling it out the way you have. Really appreciated.”

  He sat back, pondering the entire investigation. There had been an initial surge of calls to the station, following the appeal, from people asking how they could assist in the search for Kieron. Their names had been taken and they were told they would be contacted again when the police had a better idea of the numbers they’d have, so that they could form the optimum density of search gridlines. Because Prentice was gravitating more and more to someone with a connection to the hospital, he was tempted to use these volunteers to work with officers to re-blitz the grounds. Turning to Peter’s improvement, he wondered if the perpetrator knew of this. The media may have ‘persuaded’ someone to talk. Should he put an officer on watch at the IC unit? Would that send out the very signal he’d prefer to suppress? Was Olivia keeping something back? Tom seemed quite keen to follow the hospital connection. Could Gladstone help? Could he be trusted? Why the hell did he let Jones swan off to Newcastle United football ground? After swilling the dregs of yet another tepid coffee around the cardboard cup, he made a snap decision. If Tom wasn’t picked out by Derek Wallace, he should be allowed to immerse himself completely in the search. It’s what he’d wanted to do all along. Prentice wanted to isolate Olivia. Then he became annoyed with himself. With everything else that was happening, he’d completely forgotten about the audio boys working on the recorded message. He called the lab and was told they had samples of their modifications and cleaned up versions waiting for collection. He preferred to take Olivia to the lab to listen to them.

  *

  Tom hadn’t expected to be sat in the make-up department before the line-up. All of the participants were to be either completely bald or with only a crescent of hair around the back and sides. Tom chose the skinhead look. He’d often wondered how it would look.

  Wallace was talked through the procedure and trailed slowly up and down behind the dark screen. He stopped a couple of times. He shook his head. “No. The bloke who spoke to me was bigger than any of these chaps. And a lot heavier. The earring wasn’t like any of them ones. His wasn’t a dangler, it was a stud about the size of a five penny piece. I told all this to the lady that drew the sketch. And I told her about his big nose. He’s not amongst that lot.”

  Martha had to pass this on to Prentice, including the cock-up with the earring and XL size nose. She speed dialled his mobile and was expecting an alliteration of expletives, but in fact he had to stifle his reflex to laugh. It seemed that the old guy grasped the details better than the e-fit artist, but anyway, it effectively ruled out Tom. He got hospital reception to put out a PA request for Olivia. Her normal pager was in her office, as she was off duty.

  *

  Jones was full of himself. He scored a blank with the cameras covering the seats in the various sections of the football ground. However, as there was the odd altercation in the bars, he scored a bulls-eye. Tom and David had consumed a lot of beer that night and he caught Tom on camera twice, once in each half of the match. He was itching to tell Prentice, and didn’t expect such an offhand reaction.

  “That’s great Jonesy, I’d all but ruled him out anyway. The old geezer didn’t plump for him, or anyone else from the line-up. Look, I could use your help in directing the volunteers who saw the appeal. Speak to Sergeant Dixon, he’s nominally in charge. But, there’ll be uniformed officers and ‘civilians’ now. You know how uniform like to do things their own way, so keep reminding members of the public to search for items. I don’t believe there’s a snowball’s chance in hell of finding the boy. Try to find the officer who found the scarf, and get him to show you exactly where he saw it. Get as many punters as possible to comb that area. I want to know if we missed something.”

  “I’d suggest putting DC Hall on this, sir. Uniform will go apes shit if I tell them what to do. Martha has a way with most of them.”

  “Right, then both of you get amongst it. And it’s ape-shit Jonesy. You’re getting there.”

  “But…” Call ended.

  *

  Gladstone and Olivia were walking towards Prentice, at last. They appeared to be discussing other hospital personnel. “I hope it’s convenient for you to come to the police lab with me Olivia, we need to tie up a few loose ends.”

  “Yes, it’ll just take a few more minutes…”

  Gladstone intervened. “Detective, we’ve been very accommodating in all possible respects, but may I remind you, we still have our job to do. Do I have to repeat it all over again, saving lives, treating people in need? I’m talking numbers in the hundreds every day. I fully appreciate your position on this, and no doubt you will regurgitate the time constraints. But whereas you expect a cessation of activity tomorrow, we anticipate the exact opposite. I need Olivia’s input for another fifteen minutes. We’ve talked as we walked to meet you, and a little reciprocal courtesy wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “Fine, I’ll wait out front Olivia, with the engine running.”

  *

  The drive to the crime lab was awkward to say the least. Olivia seemed determined to let the silence prevail. Finally, Prentice spoke. “It looks like Tom could be in the clear.”

  “Oh really, why are you telling me something I already know. I told you that yesterday, but you chose not to hear me.”

  “Not true, you know fine well my job is all about nailing down evidence. Your opinion isn’t evidence, any more than mine is. Give a little credit Olivia, we’ve put a hell of a lot of our own unpaid time into uncovering real evidence, and it’s all about finding your son, whoever we have to put under pressure. Before we get to the lab, are you able to tell me what Gladstone was asking you about?”

  “No, I can’t tell you. Have you considered that it might be a private matter?”

  “That’s exactly why I’m asking. If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I do know that you were running through a few names, and it sounded like they may be employed at the hospital.”

  “Very clever. So, why are you prying into that?”

  “You and Gladstone aren’t being completely open with me about something. Never mind, let’s listen to these recordings. Remember it was you that said the voice was vaguely familiar, the same as you sa
id about the scarf.”

  Prentice introduced Olivia to the lab chief, who asked his subordinate to give a short summary of what they were about to hear.

  “We have one group in which we’ve altered only the delivery speed of the content. Some slower, some quicker, and only by very small increments. That’s the easy bit for us. Then, group two has as much background noise removed as we can without distorting the character of the voice. Lastly, we’ve ‘flattened’ the accent a wee bit to see if that helps in recognition of the voice. We can tweak that further if necessary.”

  The first sequence started with the original, then a pause, an almost imperceptibly slower example, then on the third Olivia said, “Stop, can you repeat that one?”

  It was played several times, and she apologised, shaking her head. Elimination of background noise didn’t seem to provoke much reaction. Moving to the more neutral accented group, Olivia shook her head once more, but Prentice had seen a distinct change in her body language.

  The lab chief said there wasn’t much more they could do right now, but they’d give it more thought after the holidays.

  On the way back Prentice decided to keep his powder dry for now. He thought that inviting Olivia and Tom to hear a full update from Jones, Martha, and himself might provoke even a level-headed surgeon, always cool under pressure, to let something slip. Safety in numbers, a shared spotlight.

  Chapter 12

  Peter Radford had opened his eyes. The surgeon was pleased that the patient was ahead of expectation, but reminded Gladstone that this was a critical period, and to hold off further visits from Olivia and her mother for now. Gladstone concurred, he knew she would understand. Peter drifted in and out of consciousness, or slept for most of the next few hours. He hadn’t yet uttered a sound. The IC crew couldn’t relax yet, and the monitoring equipment was more important than ever, because the patient was now in a definite period of change, which wasn’t the case during the first twenty-four hours of him being admitted.

  *

  Prentice made himself even more unpopular by another change of mind. “I’m afraid I want you back at the station Jonesy. Something’s come up.”