Blood Money (15 page)

‘It’s a big risk, boss.’

 

Mariner was poised to justify the decision when Knox’s mobile rang.

He went outside to take it.

‘Sergeant Knox, it’s Christie. I thought you should know. Jimmy just phoned me and asked a really weird question. He wanted to know if baby Jessica had a birthmark. I didn’t know and he got really angry.’ Her voice went up an octave and she began to whimper. ‘Why did he ask me that? I don’t understand.’

‘You’ve done the right thing, Christie. Where is he? This is important.’

‘I think he’s still at the garage.’

‘Stay where you are, and don’t contact him again,’ said Knox. ‘If he tries to ring you, don’t answer. Do you understand? ’

‘Okay.’

He’d save the bad news for later. Ending the call Knox pushed open the door of the incident room. ‘Boss? We’ve got Zion.’

‘You’re sure about this?’ Mariner said as they bounded down the stairs.

‘Why else would Bond want to know about the birthmark and why now?’

‘He clearly doesn’t have Jessica then.’

‘Unless he’s keeping her somewhere else. But no, I don’t think he’s that bright. He hasn’t got it in him.’

 

Bond’s garage was all locked up as it had been when Knox had been there earlier in the day, and this time when he raced up the fire escape and kicked open the door the love nest was empty, too. By now it was dusk and when they went back on to the street Mariner saw a sliver of light escaping from below a door at the back of the car showroom. They hammered on the outer door, fully prepared to break it down. But they didn’t have to.

Jimmy Bond appeared, looking amazingly cool, even smiling. He had absolutely no idea that he’d been caught. ‘What can I do for—’ The smile left his face as Knox interrupted to read him his rights, and in one smooth move cuffed his wrists behind his back.

‘I don’t understand, you’ve got the wrong—’ But it was another sentence he didn’t complete. He knew he’d been had.

Bond protested his innocence all the way to Granville Lane. Knowing that he wasn’t holding Jessica, they had the luxury of letting him stew overnight in a cell. Free of that particular false trail there were more important things to do. But Knox did make a further call to Christie, to let her know what had happened. ‘It’s your choice, luv, of course, but we’ll be keeping him in at least overnight, probably twenty-four hours. Might be a good time to make yourself scarce. We haven’t told him what you reported to us but he’ll probably work it out for himself.’ He considered telling her what else he’d learned about Bond that day but decided against it. She’d been hurt enough already. ‘Have you got somewhere you can go?’

Her voice caught. ‘Yes.’

 

The vehicles leaving the hospital car park at around the right time had almost all been accounted for. The only ones that had not been claimed were a dark saloon, possibly a Renault with a partial index, and a white or silver four-wheel drive. The CCTV enhancement team had provided clearer footage, which they studied, straining to see who was in the cars. But in both cases the drivers’ features were indistinct. It was possible that there could be a passenger in the back, or a child in a child seat, but the vehicles flashed by too fast for them to see. The grainy photographs of both vehicles were shown on the next national news bulletin, along with all the other details.

By the following morning they’d also had two breakthroughs with Jimmy Bond. The mobile number had been traced to a Pay as You Go handset registered in his name some months previously, and the two PCs sent back to do a more thorough search of his house had come across the computer game
Urban Warrior
, which included a character called Zion. Alongside it were numerous
CSI
DVDs, among them one that featured a kidnapping for ransom. The findings provided circumstantial evidence and was by no means conclusive, but it was a start, and Mariner had one more trick up his sleeve for Jimmy Bond.

Inside the interview room Mariner put two tapes into the machine and set the scene.

‘Where is she?’ Mariner demanded.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Now that they were here, Bond was looking less relaxed and fear had made him belligerent and defensive.

‘Of course you do. It’s in all the papers. Only we think you know more about it than that. What have you been up to the last few days, apart from shagging your receptionist? ’

‘All sorts of things, I’m a busy man.’

Mariner had the phone log in front of him. ‘Let me refresh your memory. Yesterday morning at eleven fifteen you made a phone call to this station, demanding money in exchange for the safe return of Jessica.’

‘That’s rubbish.’

‘Two hundred and fifty thousand euros to be precise.’

‘What are you on about? Two hundred and fifty thousand euros. You’re yanking my chain.’

‘Not at all,’ said Mariner allowing himself a brief smile of satisfaction. ‘The call was traced to a mobile that’s registered to you.’ Mariner recited the number. ‘Recognise it?’

‘I lost that phone ages ago.’ Bond was dismissive.

‘When exactly?’

‘I don’t remember. Couple of months or so.’

The bad news for Mariner was that the phone hadn’t yet been found. The probability was that Bond had ditched it. But Mariner didn’t really care, because in the last minute or so Jimmy Bond had as good as sentenced himself. The tape machine gave off a high pitched whine and clunked loudly. His brow furrowing, Mariner reached out, removed one of the tapes and examined it. ‘Faulty tape,’ he concluded. ‘I’ll get a replacement. And we’ll take a break for a while.’

‘But you’ve only just—’ Bond’s solicitor started to protest.

‘I’m a busy man,’ Mariner said. Informing the remaining tape of what was going on he suspended the interview and stepped outside, where a uniform was waiting with a second tape. Mariner exchanged it for the ‘broken’ one. ‘Get this to the forensic service,’ he told Knox. ‘And let me know as soon as we have some results.’

 

Later that morning, Mariner was able to return to the interview room armed with two sheets of A4. Switching on the tape machine, he slapped the two computer printouts on the table in front of Jimmy Bond. The rows of coloured, jagged lines were, to the naked eye, identical. ‘Know what these are, Jimmy?’ he asked pleasantly, not expecting a reply. ‘They’re voice analysis printouts. We’ve got a man in our lab who’s an expert in voiceprints.’ He indicated the sheet on the right. ‘This one is what your voice looks like. It’s the sample of your voice taken from the recording we made in here this morning. Pretty isn’t it?’ said Mariner. ‘Here, for instance, is what your voice looks like when you say the words
two hundred and fifty thousand
. It’s different from the way anyone else’s voice looks when it says those words. You might say it’s unique. And yet here,’ he tapped the left-hand page, ‘are the words
two hundred and fifty thousand
as spoken by Zion, the person who made the ransom demands in exchange for the safe return of baby Jessica. Can you spot any differences? No, you can’t because they’re exactly the same, and they prove that you made those calls. And the best part is, they’re admissible in court. James Bond I’m charging you with the abduction of Jessica Klinnemann, and if you want to make it easy on yourself you’d better start off by telling us where she—’

‘No, no!!’ Bond cut in, his face pure panic now. ‘I admit I did make the phone call. But I haven’t got the baby. I swear. That’s nothing to do with me. I just saw an - opportunity.’

‘Opportunity??’ Anger boiled up inside Mariner.

Bond shrugged, as if it was the kind of decision he made every day. ‘I needed the money. And no one else was asking for it. I thought I might as well.’

‘You stupid bastard.’ It took all of Mariner’s self-control to stop him from lunging at Bond and squeezing the life out of him. ‘Do you know what you’ve done, wasting valuable time when we could have been out looking for that baby? If anything happens to her you’ll have to live with it being your fault.’ Mariner wanted to smash Bond’s ignorant face against the wall. Instead he just pushed back his chair and walked out.

‘What do you want us to do with him?’ the duty sergeant asked.

‘Charge him with wasting police time. He hasn’t got Jessica. He hasn’t got the balls or the brains for it.’ Mariner hesitated. ‘It’ll be a CPS decision, but with a bit if luck we can have him for perverting the course of justice, and he’ll end up with a custodial sentence.’

Mariner told Knox what had happened.

‘Did you have to drop Christie in it?’

Mariner shook his head. ‘No need. The voiceprint gave us a way in and he confessed to making the calls. We’re charging him but we’ll have to let him go for now. You might want to let Christie know.’

‘I already have. But I’ll have a little chat with Bond before he leaves us.’

Bond was in custody signing for his belongings when Knox caught up with him.

‘I’ll see Mr Bond out,’ he told the duty sergeant.

Following at a discreet distance Knox waited until Bond was almost at the exit door before slipping past him and blocking the way. Stepping forward he put his face up so close to Bond’s that he could feel the warm breath. ‘I know about you,’ he said. ‘And I know what you do to your girlfriend. If she’s got any sense she’ll have gone by the time you get back, but if I find out that you’ve so much as touched her again, your life won’t be worth living. Consider yourself a marked man.’

 

With Bond out of the frame, the enquiry had ground once again to a halt. It was three days now. Three days for the abductor to get Jessica far away. Three days for another adult to form a relationship with the child. Every day lessened the chances of finding her safe.

Mariner had to keep the Klinnemanns up to speed with the latest developments. When he got to the hotel, there was a young woman with them.

‘This is my daughter, Lisbet,’ said Peter Klinnemann.

With white-blonde hair and eyes the colour of cornflowers, Lisbet Klinnemann had a model’s good looks and spoke with the rounded vowels that were only bought with an expensive private education. ‘You have some news?’

‘Not the best, I’m afraid. We’ll be charging a man with wasting police time. He made the ransom demands but we’ve no reason to think that he’s connected to the abduction. He just saw it as a money-making opportunity.’

Emma O’Brien was disgusted. ‘That’s sick,’ she said. She was pale and shaking.

‘Yes, it is. I’m sorry. It goes without saying that we’re continuing to follow up other leads, and if we get anything new—’ He left it at that.

Lisbet Klinnemann walked Mariner out. ‘Dad asked me to bring this.’ She passed him an envelope. When Mariner looked inside he found several fine blond hairs. ‘I hope you don’t need it.’

‘So do I.’ He didn’t like to say that the chances were becoming greater by the hour. ‘Does your mother know you’re here?’ he asked her.

She smiled. ‘No. She’d be horrified. But what am I supposed to do? Don’t misunderstand me, I’m mad about what Dad has done to us, to Mum and to our family, but he’s still my dad, and right now he needs some support. I know he’d do the same for any of us if we needed it. He’s done something foolish but that doesn’t make him a bad man. And it’s not all his fault.’

‘Oh?’

‘The last few years Mum has put him under incredible pressure about his job.’

‘Concerned for his and your safety I suppose.’

‘As if Dad didn’t care? Dad knew - has known for years - that there’s always a risk from animal rights fanatics, but his is important work and it would be ethically wrong to give in to these people. Mum just doesn’t get it.’

‘It must have been difficult for you.’

‘The atmosphere in the house sometimes was awful. By the time Emma came along Mum and Dad were virtually leading separate lives anyway. But it was still a shock when it all happened. And the baby—I mean it was bad enough to find out that Dad was seeing someone else, but a baby makes everything so much more explicit, don’t you think?’

‘It must have been a tough time. I understand your mother didn’t take the separation very well.’

‘I suppose you’ve been checking up on her.’

‘We talked to colleagues in the area.’

‘Mum was devastated. Who wouldn’t be? She hadn’t a clue what was going on until Dad blurted out that Emma was pregnant and he was the father.’

‘You knew Emma?’

‘She was one of his research contacts. We’d met her once or twice, but none of us had a clue. Mum reacted badly, that’s all. She was furious.’

‘How does she feel now?’

‘You mean would she do something like this? Of course not. She’s a mother too. She knows how cruel it would be to put anyone through this.’

‘Even Emma?’

‘Even Emma.’

‘And how do you get on with your—?’

‘My father’s bit on the side? I have to work hard at being civil towards her, if you must know. But it’s not entirely her fault either is it? It takes two to tango, as they say.’

‘And what about your brother?’

‘Paul’s taken it much harder than me. He really wanted to kill Dad. It’s exacerbated his problems.’

‘His drug problems?’

‘Oh, you know about that. Paul had been getting clean but he went back to heroin when it all happened.’

‘And now?’

‘He has it under control again.’ She said it with absolute confidence.

‘When did you last see him?’

‘A couple of weeks ago. He was home for the vacation. He’s doing well.’

‘Does he still want to kill your father?’

‘Metaphorically maybe. He sees what it’s done to Mum on a daily basis. He has to live with her.’

‘And do you know where Paul is now?’

‘No, he’s not answering his phone. But that isn’t unusual,’ she added hastily. ‘Paul’s what you might call a free spirit. It’s my guess that he knows nothing about all this.’