Someone To Save you (44 page)

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Authors: Paul Pilkington

BOOK: Someone To Save you
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‘Great,’ Locky said, clapping his hands together. ‘Everyone out to the car it is then.’

They followed Locky out of the front door and into a battered blue car that was parked a few metres away.

‘Don’t forget your seatbelts,’ he advised, starting the engine. ‘I’m a bit of an erratic driver.’

‘Where are we going?’ Sam asked from the front passenger seat.

‘Can’t tell, sorry,’ he replied, pulling away from kerb and hitting the accelerator, ‘under orders to keep information to a minimum.’

‘Under orders by who?’

‘Can’t tell,’ he said, ‘or she’d bust my balls.’

‘She?’

‘The girl who called me yesterday?’ Shirley asked from the back.

Locky seemed infuriated by his slip. ‘Yes.’

‘The same girl who phoned the police about Stacey Bond?’ Sam said. ‘Who is she? The girl I saw at the river?’

‘No more questions, please,’ Locky replied, changing lane suddenly to undertake a slow moving car, ‘otherwise I might crash this bloody thing.’

‘Just one last question,’ Sam persisted. ‘My wife, Anna Becker, do you know where she is?’

‘Look, doc, I’m really sorry, but I don’t.’

Sam considered whether this guy was telling the truth or not. His instincts told him he was genuine, both relating to knowing where Alison was and also not knowing Anna’s whereabouts. So there were positives and negatives. How much he would give to have Anna waiting for him at their destination. He sat back and remained silent for the rest of the fifteen minute journey. Occasionally he would glance back to check on Shirley and Eric. Both looked in a permanent state of edginess. The car raced around the London streets, across junctions, over bridges, the cultural landscape changing as they went.

Finally Locky spoke.

‘We’re here,’ he said, as the car turned a sharp left and slowed to a stop next to a block of low rise maisonette flats. ‘Now, when you get out,’ he said, wrenching up the handbrake and turning off the ignition, ‘don’t be hanging around. Get out of the car as quick as you can and get through that door over there.’ He gestured over to the entrance.

They all nodded.

‘Great,’ he said, ‘now follow me.’

The three of them followed Locky across to the entrance and up a set of concrete steps. They stopped outside the first flat and Locky led them inside. ‘She’s in here,’ he said, stepping through the door, ‘don’t worry, she’s okay.’

Sam followed him in first, and saw a young girl sitting cross-legged on the sofa, remote control in hand, watching TV, just like any normal teenager. She looked up at Sam and frowned. But on seeing her grandmother appear behind Sam, she burst to life, joy spreading across her face like a flame. ‘Gran!’

Shirley ran forward with her arms outstretched. ‘Oh my God, Alison, my Alison, you’re safe, my God, you’re really safe.’

They embraced in a tight hug. Shirley then stepped back and looked at Alison, as if unable to quite believe that she wasn’t just imagining it. She stroked back some stray her from her forehead. Alison looked remarkably well, and it gave Sam hope about Anna’s condition. ‘Oh, my Alison, we’re so glad to have you back.’

They hugged again. Eric moved forward and put a hand around the two of them. ‘I’m so happy to see you, Alison, so happy.’ He was crying. They all were. Sam stood back slightly, side by side with Locky, feeling like a voyeur to an intensely private moment.

‘Is everyone okay?’ Alison asked over Shirley’s shoulder. ‘Mum and the rest? They’re all okay, aren’t they?’

Sam found himself looking straight at her pleading eyes. ‘I’m so sorry Alison,’ he found himself saying, ‘I couldn’t save your mum.’

Sam and Locky retreated to the next room while Alison was comforted by Shirley and Eric. They needed their private space, although Sam knew from bitter personal experience that the real grieving would come in time. Some minutes later, they were called back into the living room and Sam took a seat. Alison was sitting in between her grandparents, her tears now drying.

‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘for saving my brother and sister.’

Her gratitude at such a time of grief took Sam by surprise. ‘You don’t need to thank me. I just wish I could have saved your mum.’

‘I know,’ she said, displaying remarkable maturity beyond her teenage years.

Sam looked across at Locky, who was standing a few feet from them, gnawing at a fingernail. ‘What now?’

He shrugged. ‘Wait until we hear what to do next.’

‘Hear from who? The girl?’

Locky refused to answer.

‘What’s this all about?’ Sam asked.

‘I’ve told you,’ he said, ‘I can’t tell you anything. I’m really sorry, doc, but I can’t say a word.’

Sam turned to Alison. He was unsure about whether to question this girl, who had not only been through a horrendous experience, but had also just found out that her mother was dead. However Anna’s life was at stake. ‘Alison, my wife has been taken, by the same people who took you. Do you know where she might be?’

She shook her head. ‘They kept me in a room of a big house. There were lots of other women, and men that came to, you know, to, erm, have sex with them.’

‘My God,’ Shirley said, horrified, ‘please say they didn’t...’

‘It’s okay, Gran, they didn’t touch me,’ she reassured her. ‘But I thought they would.’ She addressed Sam again. ‘I don’t know where the house was, and I don’t know anything about your wife. I’m really sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Sam replied, trying not to think about what they may be doing to Anna. ‘Do you know who it was that took you?’

She nodded. ‘Vincent. Mum’s boyfriend.’

Mentioning the name mum upset her again and she sunk into Shirley’s arms. Sam wished he could take the pain away. He turned to Locky. ‘You know who this guy is, don’t you?’

Locky started biting at his fingers again.

‘Who is he?’ Sam pressed. ‘And where’s the house? You must know.’

‘I can’t say, I really can’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think I’d like to tell ya?’

Sam’s anger flared with the knowledge that this man was keeping something so important from them. ‘Why can’t you?’

‘Because it’s not safe!’ he spat. ‘It’s not safe. That’s why we’ve got to stay here until it is. And the less you know at the moment, the safer you’ll be.’

‘And what about my wife?’

‘I’ve told you, I don’t know anything about your wife, I swear.’

Sam’s mobile rang and everyone in the room looked on.

‘Hello?’

It was Miles.

Sam listened to the single sentence, not quite believing what he was hearing. He snapped the phone shut and made for the door, blood pumping hard. Locky followed. ‘Hey, where are ya off to?’

‘To get my wife back,’ he replied.

 

 

 

 

50

 

 

 

Sam knew where Miles lived. Everyone working in the cardiothoracic unit did, as he’d invited the whole department over for a flat warming party when he first purchased it, eighteen months ago. Most thought that it was a way of demonstrating to everyone how successful he was. It was an upper floor apartment that looked out across the Thames, bought at the height of the London property boom. It wasn’t in the premier league of capital residences, but it was still very exclusive, and Sam had wondered at the time how he’d been able to afford the astronomical asking price.

He knocked three hard knocks and waited impatiently.

Please let him be in. Please let him be telling the truth.

Eventually Miles answered. He looked terrible; bloodshot eyes and corpse-like ashen skin, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He shifted from one foot to another. As he went to speak, Sam smelt the alcohol on his breath. He was well past drunk. ‘Sam, do come in,’ he slurred.

‘You said you know what’s happened to my wife,’ Sam said, letting the door swing shut and squaring up to Miles. Part of him still thought that this was some sort of sick joke. But no-one except him and his close friends knew that Anna was missing.

‘Would you like a drink, Sam?’ he grinned. ‘I have plenty of drinks, how about a whiskey?’

Sam got another blast of alcohol. ‘You’re drunk,’ he stated.

Miles shrugged. ‘And what if I am? Can you blame me? I’ve lost everything, Sam. My career has been flushed down the toilet.’

‘You brought it on yourself, Miles,’ Sam replied, impatient to get back to the reason he was here. ‘What do you know about Anna?’

Miles wagged a finger. ‘Ah, no, no, no. I didn’t,’ he put up two fingers as quotation marks, ‘bring it on myself.’ He now used a finger to jab Sam in the top of his chest. It’s all because of you, Sam.’

‘How?’

Miles smiled. ‘Because they used me to get to you.’

‘What?’

‘They reeled me in and then used me, Sam. They used me as a pawn to do their dirty work. They told me to plant the drugs in your locker. I didn’t want to do it – they made me do it. Do you see? It’s all because of you, Sam.’

‘Who are they?’

‘I don’t know,’ Miles replied. ‘But they don’t like you. I guess we have one thing in common there, Sammy boy.’

Sam ignored the jibe. It wasn’t the time for petty games. ‘How did you meet them?’

‘They found me,’ he said. ‘Got talking to a guy at the Victoria Casino. Said he could help me out. I was in a spot of bother. Lost a lot of cash, you see. Bet you didn’t know I liked a gamble, did you Sam?’

Sam didn’t want to hear about Miles’ addictions. ‘Who was he? Was his name Vincent?’

‘Haven’t got a clue,’ he said. ‘But he had money. Lots of money. Said it was going to be a loan, low interest, but he came asking for it back pretty quickly. Pity I’d already lost it on the roulette. You see, Sam, I’m one of life’s risk takers. You don’t get ahead in this life without taking a risk.’

‘So they forced you to plant the drugs in my locker?’

‘Indeed they did, detective. They’re extremely persuasive.’

The story was startlingly familiar - they’d used the same strategy with Richard Friedman and Eric Ainsley; the offer of help to gain total control.

‘My wife, Miles,’ Sam said, returning to his only priority, ‘you said you know something about her.’

‘They took her,’ he said. ‘They’re holding her.’

‘I know that,’ Sam replied. ‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know, exactly.’

Sam struggled to keep his calm – he wanted to grab Miles by the throat and shake the truth out of him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? Do you know where she is, or not?’

‘I know where she might be,’ he said.

‘Then for God’s sake, tell me, Miles, please,’ Sam implored. ‘This isn’t a game, you know.’

‘Oh, I know it’s not a fucking game, Sam,’ he shot back, his expression darkening. ‘I’ve lost everything, remember? And I might lose the apartment too,’ he added.

Sam backed down, not wanting to rattle Miles for fear that he’d just shut down, or started rambling again about himself. He tried softening his approach. ‘Miles, I’m sorry about what’s happened to you, I really am, but this is my wife’s life we’re talking about. You called me over here. Now please, tell me what you know.’

The tactic worked. Miles nodded. ‘I have a telephone number. The number they call me from.’ He handed Sam a piece of paper with the number scrawled on it.

Sam looked up. The London number looked familiar. The combination of numbers similar to another number he knew. ‘Is this everything?’

Miles nodded. ‘I don’t know where they are, I don’t know any names, but I have that number.’

Sam looked at the number again, trawling his mind for the reason why it seemed so familiar. ‘Why give it to me now?’

‘I want to help,’ Miles said. ‘And I’m scared of what they might do to me. Please, help me, Sam.’

Miles cut a pitiful figure. Sam should have known. This wasn’t an act of altruism, it was self-serving. But it didn’t matter. ‘Did they ever say why they were doing this?’

‘No, never.’

Sam left the apartment block and pulled out his phone. He began to type in the numbers on the piece of paper. He didn’t know whether this was the right thing to do, but he did it anyway. The last number keyed in, the phone began to dial through. It was then that the text appeared on the screen.

Sam cut the call off immediately.

The phone had recognised the number, already stored in its memory. It had been the landline number of their friends who, up until a few months ago, had lived in the flat upstairs. Those who had Anna were calling Miles from there.

 

 

 

 

51

 

 

 

Sam sheltered behind a tree in the park and watched the upstairs window for signs of life. The flat above his had its living room facing the front. He had approached the house from the opposite side of the park, hoping that it would afford him cover. There was nothing to say that there already weren’t people watching him in the trees off to the left, but he just had to hope that wasn’t the case.

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