Almost a Crime (102 page)

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Authors: Penny Vincenzi

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BOOK: Almost a Crime
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The car vibrated violently all the time, he was shaken it

seemed into his bones; he gripped the bar, swallowed.

Down, round, up the straight, then the fierce angular bend:

and then again and then again. It was not like driving at all,

it was like in some way flying through the earth, he had

become part of it, part of the speed and the surface and the

tension. Five times they went round; he looked at the

speedometer: almost a hundred now on the vicious curve, a

hundred and thirty on the straight. He was beginning to feel

very sick, very dizzy; he clung visually to the track, tried

not to look to left or right. And then at last, at last they

were slowing, slowing to a feeble eighty, seventy, fifty,

thirty — grinning, pulling off the tight helmet, climbing out,

standing on legs that were weak, trembling, looking for

Oliver Nichols, his partner in the adventure: but Nichols

wasn’t there, Octavia was there, ashen, her eyes huge,

somehow sunk into her face, and she rushed over to him

and pulled at his arm and said, her voice hysterical, raw with

terror, ‘Tom, Tom …’ and ‘What is it?’ he said. ‘Whatever

is it?’ and ‘It’s Minty,’ she said, ‘it’s Minty, she’s gone.

Louise has taken her.’

 

It took a while for him to understand what had actually

happened, that Louise had actually stolen Minty, kidnapped

her. Or so Octavia was saying, gasping out in between sobs; it just didn’t seem to be possible. He felt he was in the car again, back on the track, dizzy, sick, confused; Zoe must

have just wandered off with her, he said to her, his mind

refusing to engage in this new horror, this new latest

episode in his love affair turned horror story; that’s no

problem, we just go to the BBC tower, ask them to make

an announcement, someone will have her, don’t be silly,

calm down.

But no, no, she had said, no, you don’t understand.

Louise is here, she has Minty, she stole her from Zoe; now

how could she have done that, he said, how could she

possibly be here, she’s ill, she’s in a nursing home in Bath.

But gradually the foolish, hysterical lie had become sober,

horrible truth. Louise had been, was there; she had gone up

to Zoe, talked to her, been friendly, so friendly, asked what

she was doing, said where was Dickon, she must go and

find him, she’d suddenly decided to come, maybe they

could have a cup of tea first, she and Zoe, and Zoe had said

yes, why not, as you would; and they’d gone to a cafe and

Louise had said I’ll wait here with Minty, you go and get

the tea, and Zoe had gone up to the counter and bought

two cups of tea, and when she came back, Minty and

Louise were gone.

‘I thought at first she must be somewhere else,’ said Zoe,

who had been waiting a few yards behind Octavia, white

and shaking; they were standing, the three of them, frozen

with fear. ‘I thought she’d gone to sit on the grass or

something, so I looked, you know, for a bit, wasted time, I

suppose. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, so dreadfully sorry, I feel so

terrible.’

‘No, you mustn’t,’ Tom said soberly. ‘Anyone would

have done the same. I would. You didn’t know she’d been

ill?’

‘No, not really. I knew there was some — problem.’ She

looked awkwardly at Octavia. ‘I’d kind of gathered it from

Mum, but not that she was ill. She seemed so normal today,

she was so nice, asked me if I was still going to Oz, said she

had friends in Sydney. I did think she was wearing some

rather odd clothes, but — oh, God. God, I wish Mum was here

She started to cry and Octavia put her arm round her.

‘It’s all right, Zoe”. It’s not your fault.’

‘It is, it is. I — God, I feel so stupid, so …”

‘We must get an announcement put out,’ said Tom,’;

have the gates closed. At once.’

‘We’ve told the police,’ said Octavia dully. ‘They’re

putting out an announcement. In fact — yes, listen.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen. If I could have your attention,

please. A baby is missing. Name Araminta Fleming, known

as Minty, aged ten months, dark hair, blue eyes, wearing a

pink dress. Probably in a baby buggy. If you have seen her,

or if you’ve found her, if you are looking after her…’

Looking after her, thought Tom, what an absurd phrase,

but he supposed the police knew what they were doing,

that they must be careful, tactful. And maybe Louise was

just looking after her, maybe it had been a genuine error,

that she had wandered off, lost Zoe, was looking for her. ‘If

you are looking after her,’ went on the voice, ‘please bring

her immediately to the control tower, so that we can

reunite her with her parents…”

They were standing just underneath the control tower;

they all looted rather helplessly round, as if expecting

Minty immediately to reappear.

A large policeman came over to them, walking rather

ponderously. That didn’t bode well, the slow walk. It

meant they hadn’t found her. ‘That should do it, Mrs

Fleming. If she is indeed here.’

‘Yes. Yes, thank you.’

‘Try not to worry. People are very good. I daresay she

toddled off, someone found her, is bringing her over here

even now.’

‘She couldn’t walk,’ said Octavia dully. ‘She’s too little.’

‘Can you close the gates?’ said Tom. ‘To stop her going

out?’

‘We’ve got someone watching the gates now, sir, with a description of the little girl and the lady she was last seen with. Can’t actually close them, no.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘It’s virtually impossible, sir, this not being quite an emergency.’

‘Of course it’s an emergency!’

The policeman ignored him. ‘And other people are still

arriving, all the time.’

‘And my daughter meanwhile gets kidnapped? I’m not

very impressed. I do warn you, I shall hold you responsible

if-

‘Let’s all just look for her,’ said Octavia. She was very

pale still, but oddly calm. ‘It’s true, we don’t yet know how

much of an emergency it is. Tom, you stay here, just in

case. Zoe, you go back towards the building. I’ll go the

other way.’

‘And we have people looking for her as well, of course,’

said the policeman. ‘All our people and the Brands Hatch

security guards as well, all on the alert.’

‘Yes. Yes, all right,’ said Tom. ‘Where are the other

children?’

‘Lauren and Drew have them.’

‘Dickon as well?’

‘Yes,’ said Octavia very quietly.

 

Octavia set off down in the direction of the restaurant;

walking first forwards, then backwards, so that she could

keep looking all around her. The crowds were thick; she

kept bumping into people. At first she apologised, then

became angry with them, simply for being there, for being

in her way, for keeping her from looking, from finding

Minty. The day itself had become nightmarish; the

screaming of the cars on the track, the endless announcements,

inaudibly loud, the crowds, the smell of oil and

petrol and hot dogs and chips. She felt sick, utterly alone;

she began to hallucinate, to see Minty, to see Louise,

walking towards her. Twice she saw Minty’s dark curls over

the top of a buggy, rushed forward, crying, ‘Minty Minty,’

only to see a puzzled face, a strange baby. And she saw Louise, saw golden flowing hair, a slender graceful body,

long slim legs, ran after her too, wanting to shake her, hit

her, grab Minty back: only each time it wasn’t Louise,

simply another blonde, without her lovely face, without her

crazy, evil mind.

 

She had made it; she had done it. She was out of the car

park, back on the road, driving towards the M25. Minty had

protested, cried a lot while she pulled her out of the buggy,

strapped her into the car seat. Now she was sitting

hiccuping, her thumb in her mouth, her eyes big with

anxiety. Well, it couldn’t be helped. She would comfort

her, take care of her later.

She had expected to be stopped all the way to the car, to

feel a hand on her shoulder, a voice calling her; she hadn’t

dared run, it would have looked suspicious, but she’d

walked very fast, steering the buggy in and out of the

crowds. She found the car all right, but someone had

parked just a bit too close on the side the baby seat was and

it had been hard to get Minty in, she’d had to hold her

sideways, squeeze her in. Minty had screamed in protest.

And then she’d had to climb in the other side, sit on the

back seat beside her to strap her in. And while she was

about it, she pulled off the horrible nylon top; she’d kept

her T-shirt on underneath. That way she was less likely to

match any description. It was all taking so long, though.

Surely someone would come? Zoe would have raised the

alarm by now. But they didn’t; and looking at her watch,

incredibly only three and a half minutes had passed since she

had walked away from the table in the cafe.

She climbed out of the car, leaped into the driving seat,

started the engine: the most terrifying moment had been

driving out of the gates, she was sure there would be a

security alert by now, that the man would have been told to

stop her. But there was a great flood of cars coming in, he

was very busy; she drove out, carefully, not too fast, to

avoid attracting attention, but once on the A20, then she could put her foot down, really get moving. Not too fast of course, she didn’t want to be stopped for speeding, that

really would be counterproductive; but at the top of the

speed limit. And there was a lot of traffic, of course, going

in the other direction, making for Brands Hatch. She

seemed to have the road practically to herself.

She kept looking at Minty in the driving mirror, still

wide eyed, still obviously frightened. ‘I’m sorry, Minty

darling,’ she kept saying, her voice soothing, soft. ‘Sorry.

Won’t be long.’

She wondered if Minty would like a drink; she had

prepared a couple of non-spill cups with juice in them, but

she didn’t dare stop to give her one. Maybe at the service

station… No, that would be dangerous, they might be

looking for her there. She’d slip off at one of the turnoffs,

do it there.

 

Marianne went for a short walk after lunch, it was such a

lovely day. Romilly had gone out with friends to Richmond,

Marc to meet some girl. The answering machine

was bleeping when she got back. Probably Romilly to say

she was going back to someone’s house. But it wasn’t

Romilly. It was Mrs Harrington.

 

Sandy was half asleep in front of a football match that he’d

recorded, when the phone went. He sighed. Hopefully this

wasn’t going to be Louise, wanting to be fetched already.

He even debated leaving it, letting the answering

machine pick it up, then thought that no, he really

shouldn’t do that, it would be very irresponsible. And

anyway it might be nothing to do with Louise; it might be

Dickon. Or Megan or Pattie. He picked up the phone.

‘Sandy Trelawny.’

But it was to do with Louise.

 

‘I spoke to Charles,’ said Octavia. ‘He couldn’t believe it,

said we must have made a mistake.’

How could anyone be upset about anything, Tom

thought, except their child being in danger? Possibly deadly danger. How could he have been upset about anything

himself— his wife having an abortion, wanting to divorce

him, his father-in-law hating him, his company going bust,

his mistress taking an overdose — how could he have

thought any of it important, any of it mattered in the least?

‘And she’s in Anna’s old car. I have the number, I’ve

given it to the police. I wish they’d take it more seriously,

they don’t seem to—’

‘I know, I know. But they’ve heard this all before,

remember. It happens here all the time. Kids getting lost. As

far as they’re concerned, ninety-nine times out of a

hundred, they turn up. And all the stuff about Louise, it just

sounds like so much fantasy to them. And to be fair, I

thought I’d lost Dickon earlier.’

‘Yes, but Tom, Dickon’s five. He can walk about on his

own, wander off. They must realise Minty can’t do that.’

‘Yes. I know.’

‘And meanwhile, Louise has probably been gone for

ages. Miles away by now.’ Her voice was rising, shaking

with panic.

‘Maybe not. It’s only—’ He looked at his watch. What

had happened to time, how could this endless nightmare

have been going on for only twenty minutes?

‘Where on earth do you think she might go? Take

Minty. It doesn’t make sense. I mean, she can’t take her

home, can’t take her to Rookston …’

‘She might. Who knows what she might do? Octavia,

she’s mad.’

‘Mad and very clever. Talking to Zoe about Australia

while they walked to the cafe, getting her confidence.

Coming here at all. She’s obviously been planning it for

ages, she knew we were coming, that Dickon was coming.’

‘Yes, of course she did. Poor Zoe’s completely hysterical.

Nico’s been terrific. He’s managed to calm her down.’

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