The Message
“I think we might both owe him one, this could turn out to be a total game changer.”
Chapter 14
As soon as Jones arrived, Prentice sat him down and hit him with the potential scandal. “I know you came in to look at security camera footage, but there’s something to chew on while you’re trying to stay awake counting the number of comings and goings at Hamsterley Mill. Now then, only you and me are to be privy to what I’m about to tell you. It has to remain that way until I say otherwise. I’m saying this because it opens up another possible angle, maybe a different motive for snatching Kieron. I’ve literally just found out that Olivia isn’t Radford-Wickham, she comes from the loins of Gladstone.”
“Well, hit me with your rhythm stick! What a can of worms, or maybe sperms. I feel a bit sorry for Olivia, her pretend father is in IC, her kid’s gone, her mother has dementia, her husband is a nutter, and now she’s got Count Dracula as a biologically related mentor, who just happens to be her boss. And here I was, whingeing about my future in-laws.”
“That’s a good point Jonesy, maybe she doesn’t know she’s his daughter. Anyway, I thought we should both look at motive independently and then compare notes. I’m a little bit uneasy about who managed to get Gladstone’s DNA, I don’t want them to pester forensics about it.”
“No need boss, I told Gladstone to get everyone’s DNA who’d been anywhere near Peter Radford when he was admitted for surgery. I took an instant dislike to him when we first arrived at the scene because he acted as if he was running the investigation as well as the hospital.”
“That was a prudent call, even if it wasn’t exactly objective. Right, we don’t know who else knows about this bloodstock secret. However, unless there is a clandestine adoption involved somewhere along the line we should start with the two wives, Radford’s and Gladstone’s. We need to know the identity of Olivia’s natural mother. We won’t get anything from the adoption service for a few days, so let’s both concentrate on the two families for now.”
“Ok, I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if Gladstone had spread his seed around. With respect to motive, there are still quite a few permutations even if one of the wives is Olivia’s real mother. I’ll get on with the camera footage, and get back to you later.”
Prentice nodded and began to think how he could obtain DNA from the two wives without attracting suspicion. It wouldn’t be too difficult with Pauline Radford, she was at the hospital. He just needed to buy her a cup of coffee and forget to put the empty cup in the trash. He didn’t even know the first name of Gladstone’s wife. He made that his first task and set off for the hospital.
*
Jones was quite pleased with himself. He was also glad to have the motive puzzle to solve while he gazed at some of the population of Hamsterley Mill revealing their evening habits. He cast his net one hour either side of the message. He frequently paused the riveting montage to zoom in and note car registrations. He then left to get back to an equally pulsating afternoon at the house of his prospective in-laws. He was pessimistic about being able to tune them out while he continued to tick off the genetic permutations and their extrapolation to a likely motive for either making a hole in Peter Radford’s head, or abducting Kieron, or one of them being a consequence of the other. Perhaps Kieron was expected to be in the car. He hadn’t considered that before.
*
Prentice found Tom at the hospital first. “Where is Olivia?”
“She’s with her mother, they’ve been allowed a short spell with Peter. Apparently, he’s not able to speak properly, he just makes strange sounds. They’re trying to help in calming him down.”
“Hasn’t the sight of his daughter done the trick? He would have expected her to be seriously injured, not knowing that the call was a hoax.”
“Yes, I suppose, but he ain’t to know what happened to Kieron either. He might be asking where he is now.”
“Thanks Tom, I’ll have a walk along to see the surgeon, if he’s in today. He should have some idea when I can expect to speak with Peter.”
“Good luck mate.”
*
Olivia and her mother were just coming out of the IC unit, and Pauline was straining to fight back the tears. Prentice asked Olivia how the patient was doing. “I ran into Tom, has Peter settled down?”
“Not really, he was shocked to see me, but we didn’t dare tell him about Kieron. He’s mimicking writing, so I’m going to get him a pen and paper. I’ll sit my mum down first.”
“Look, I want to ask you something but it can wait. Go get your writing stuff, I’ll take care of your mother until you know what Peter wants to tell you?”
“Thank you Inspector, Dad’s surgeon doesn’t want any staff in with us while he’s trying to communicate. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Prentice could imagine ‘killing two birds with one stone.’ He rushed to the drinks dispenser and purchased a coffee for Pauline, and made sure it was in her hand before Olivia came back. She only managed a couple of mouthfuls when it was time to go back into IC, and he took the cup from her. He poured the remaining hot liquid into a waste bin and walked to the gents. Quickly putting the empty cup into a plastic bag, he hurried back to his car to deposit his illegal DNA. He went in pursuit of the surgeon, but was told he was not in today, and was advising from home whenever necessary. It had the portents of being a long night.
Over an hour later Olivia stepped out of the IC unit. “Any change?” asked Prentice.
“No, the previous excitement has made him tired, he’s been sleeping most of the time. I’m not supposed to interfere with his care, for obvious reasons, but I don’t think we should be there every time he wakes up. Dad’s situation is different from patients who only have to worry about themselves. He doesn’t really understand what hasn’t happened to me, he must think he’s going insane. It’s also possible he saw whoever took Kieron. I can’t get my mother to realise how our presence might be counter-productive at this stage of his recovery. She won’t leave his side unless the surgeon forbids it, forgetting that I’m a surgeon too. Her own condition seems to prevent her from seeing things as they are. I’m going to call Gladstone to see if he can talk some sense into her. We can see Dad when he gets stronger.”
“Sounds like the way to go, to me anyway. Will Gladstone come in to speak with your mother? What I mean is Christmas Day is almost over, won’t he want to leave it until the morning if your father’s sleeping most of the time? His wife might have something to say about it, as I understand he’s about to retire. What’s her name? Mrs Gladstone I mean.”
“Ian Gladstone doesn’t have a ‘wife.’ He‘s never married, always saying that it would be bigamy. His career has been his life companion. He’s not a recluse, but he isn’t overly keen on socialising as a pursuit, unlike most of us. I’m sure he’ll come in if he’s needed, especially as I’m querying the visiting protocol.”
“Oh right, of course. I’d like a quick word with him too if he has time.”
“If it’s about my son, I’m sure he will. I’m assuming it is?”
“Sure, what else would it be about? Thanks Olivia.”
*
It was another hour and a half before Gladstone made an appearance. He spoke privately with Olivia for a few minutes and then she went to bring her mother. Pauline looked tense, but nodded affirmation continually while Gladstone spoke, presumably taking has advice to allow Peter more rest. At Olivia’s intervention, he turned to face Prentice and wore a weary expression. He approached and seemed about to deliver some of his well-oiled attitude. Prentice began with an apology. “I hate interrupting your seasonal break like this, but I think I’d sleep better if you could answer just one question.”
A nod was all Prentice needed. “Does Olivia know that she’s your daughter?”
DCI Prentice had gambled that suddenly delivering his ace from the bottom of the deck would provoke body language as well as mealy-mouthed words. He was correct, but not precisely in the way he’d
anticipated.
Gladstone’s eyes widened, followed by a withering sneer. “Why don’t you ask her?” He strode off, leaving Prentice in a quandary.
*
Kieron had forgotten they were going to call his father, he was completely immersed in his book of children’s puzzles, and the nice man didn’t interrupt the way other grown-ups did.
Chapter 15
Boxing Day
The search had run out of steam and nothing else of significance had been found within the hospital perimeter. It was to be scaled down until the debate took place on where to tackle next. Prentice felt they were wasting their time but knew that he had to maintain public belief in the hope of finding Kieron unharmed. However, he wanted a wider awareness of the situation, and asked the top brass to push harder for a national TV appeal.
*
Martha was back to work and looked as if she had never been to bed. “A bit of a hangover DC Hall? Or did you just forget your makeup?”
“Both sir, I’m not at my best today and I didn’t think the makeup would make much difference. Ok, let’s have it, what has DI Jones left for me?”
“Get yourself some coffee, if you have a key for the supply cupboard. Jones has left a wad of notes he made from the Hamsterley Mill cameras.”
“Oh no, that’ll really make my headache much better!”
“No, he’s done all that. These are lists of people and vehicle registrations you need to check out. The fresh air will do you the world of good.”
“Nobody will want to talk to me on Boxing Day, surely? They’ll be attacking what’s left of the turkey. Oh God, I think I’m going to puke.”
“Not in here you’re not. Here, take the notes and get me a coffee while you’re at it.”
“Yes sir, good idea sir.” She mumbled continually as she walked to the supply cupboard.
*
Kieron belatedly remembered about the promised phone call to his dad. “I want to speak to Daddy.”
The nice man was taken by surprise, thinking it had been completely forgotten. “I tried to call him yesterday, do you remember?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t answer his phone, but he sent a message, a text message, do you know what that is?”
“Yes I know. It comes on the phone and on my tablet. I lost my tablet. The nasty man took it away.”
“Well your Daddy’s message said he could meet us at the seaside, on the sandy beach. Should we go and see him?”
“Yes. We can go now.”
“Ok, let’s switch off the computers and we’ll go in the car.”
*
Jones walked into the office. Prentice looked up in surprise. “You didn’t need to come in today, I’ve sent Martha to follow up on your security camera notes.”
“Yeah, good. I came in to throw around a few ideas like you said. Anyway, my girlfriend wanted to go to Kielder reservoir with some of her pals. I can’t stand any of them, and why would I want to trudge the forest out there when I can be in this dump? I think she’s coming to the conclusion that this relationship isn’t living up to expectations, her expectations. I hit that point a while ago. I just want her to think she’s kicking me out. Less hassle that way.”
“A great Christmas then. You know I told you about Gladstone, well I pulled him to one side and decided to hit him with it at the hospital yesterday evening.”
“No way, what did he say?”
“The way I put it to him - ‘does Olivia know she’s your daughter’ - I kind of expected a long-winded explanation or denial. He just told me to ask her. I’ve been wrestling with whether I should, all bloody night long. Maybe we should run through how all this fits with potential attempted murder and the boy being snatched.”
“Ok, one thing which occurred to me before you told me about Gladstone’s reaction, was that he won’t worry about the effect on his career. He’s ready to retire, but darling Olivia isn’t, and it’s going to come in quite handy that he can recommend her if nobody knows she’s his sprog. I hadn’t figured out how that could be linked to the case, but now he knows that we know, it probably means Olivia’s anointment could be tricky. Perhaps we aren’t the only ones who know about their secret relationship. If he told you to ask her, maybe she found out about it some time ago. If that’s the case, would she blackmail her own father?”
“Makes a bit of sense Jonesy. You need to factor in what she told me before I spoke to him. He isn’t married, never has been. What if he’s gay, fathered a child, and then came out of the closet late in life? It has been known to happen. Society was much more homophobic when he was spreading it about as a young man.”
“Can’t be ruled out I suppose, but I’m beginning to think this permutation and combination idea is lacking basic facts, you see what I mean, to rule out certain possibilities. You know I’m red hot on elimination as opposed to speculation, and more to the point, are you going to ask Olivia the same nut-cracking question you hit Gladstone with?”
“Not just yet, let’s give him a chance to tell her that we’ve got the heads-up on this one. He might not do that. I think you’re right, we need to get back to full-on evidence.”
*
Martha was almost exhausted. The reaction from the inhabitants of Hamsterley Mill was not what she’d predicted. They were incredibly keen to help find Kieron. After speaking to just a few, they suggested phoning their neighbours and friends to gather at a focal point on the estate, where they could all look at the stills and car plate numbers at more or less the same time. As the numbers dwindled after around ninety minutes, many of them had identified all of the people in the stills as residents, or visitors of residents, with one exception. The response on the vehicles was much less helpful, as some of the inhabitants didn’t even know their own registration number. Martha thanked every participant profusely and jumped into her car. The hangover was easing, and she couldn’t wait to get back to the station.
*
Peter Radford’s monitored readings had settled down again. He muttered something unintelligible to the nearest nurse, who alerted the surgeon. This time he seemed to have slightly more control. “Meyma, meyma.”
He was asked to repeat his utterance several times, to no avail. He then tried mimicking pen and paper again, accompanied by “Meyma, meyma.” The surgeon finally got it and despatched a nurse to bring a notepad and something to write with.
“Here you are Peter, now you mustn’t over exert yourself. Just lie as you are, don’t shift your position, do you understand?”
He tried to nod impatiently, and felt the resistance of a neck brace. He had to raise the paper to suit his field of vision. His wobbly hand passed back and forth interminably, and crossed out several attempts. The image eventually took some recognisable form. He’d managed a child’s rendering of an oval shape on a stalk. He was pointing and repeating a slightly different two syllable strange word. “Minna, minna.”
His frustration began to affect the monitors and the surgeon was ready to call a halt to proceedings, when the nurse got it. “He means mirror, it’s a car mirror.”
Peter pointed at the nurse with a mixture of relief and tiredness. He managed a weary smile and closed his eyes. The surgeon digested the import of this, deciding that he was possibly indicating he had seen something of his attacker. However, he felt Peter was still too fragile to undergo any kind of interrogation by the police. He told the nurse of his concern and she agreed. “Let him sleep off his fatigue again nurse, and then we can find out more.”
*
There was more positive news from the TV people with regard to the nationwide appeal. It was to be scheduled to a slot before New Year’s Day. Prentice gave this news in person to Olivia and Tom. He also made it clear that he needed to speak with Olivia alone. “It’ll be best at the station.”
Tom predictably asked why he was being excluded and was surprisingly accommodating when he was told it was nothing to do with Kieron. It was about her father. Tom wasn’t interested in Pet
er, in just the same way she hadn’t ever bothered to ask how his own father was until it was too late.
*
The car left the country lane a few minutes back. Negotiating the best way to the edge of the sand dunes was extremely bumpy, yet it caused Kieron to giggle spontaneously, a new experience entirely. They finally found a suitable parking spot and braved the extremely bracing conditions. Emerging on the narrow strip of flat sand, they encountered a cacophony of aural bombardment. The near gale force winds churned the incoming waters to a frenzy, culminating in thunderous crashing waves. The screeches of seagulls milling around a lone fishing vessel, in the hope of sharing the catch, provided the ‘percussion.’
After looking in all directions and seeing no other human, Kieron’s disappointment overflowed. “Where is Daddy?”
The nice man didn’t know and said it was not fair of daddy to be late. Not answering his phone and not coming to the beach was definitely not nice. Fortunately, he’d brought a parcel, which he opened and revealed a plain coloured kite. Bright red, it stood out from the sea and the sand. It took several forlorn attempts to get it under control, then the nice man encouraged Kieron to put his hands alongside his own, so that they were both making the kite dive and then soar again. Kieron was happy once more, and it didn’t seem to matter so much that daddy was late. A few crashes later, and some spectacular manoeuvres rendered the no-show as relatively unimportant. In his scheme of things, the boy attached a lot of significance to the present, subordinating the past altogether, and extrapolating the now to what was possibly coming next. “I’m cold. I want my puzzles.”