Ann Purser - Threats At Three

Suddenly his attention was caught by seeing a dirty white van pull up outside the newsagents opposite the warehouse. His heart began to pound. A man got out and scurried into the shop like a frightened rabbit. It was him! Jack could swear that it was the man he was hunting. He turned away from the window and dashed down the stairs, taking them three at a time, but when he emerged onto the street, he saw the van pulling away from the curb. Sod it! He thought of running after it, but that would be stupid, drawing attention to himself. No, it was still close enough for him to read the number plate, and Jack, who had a good memory for such things, stored it in his mind.

But how was he ever going to catch up with it? And what could he do, even if he saw it parked in town? No, he needed wheels. A bike, that’s what he needed. An old bike, not easily traceable, and lightweight enough to manhandle up to his warehouse lodging. Should he buy one or appropriate one left carelessly unattended? Not the latter, he told himself. Even the pettiest theft was a bad idea. He decided to go to the town dump. They always had old bikes that nobody wanted. He could slip a pound or two to the dump chap and be away in minutes, no questions asked. Then if he saw the van again, he would follow it. With the many traffic light stops, he would be able to keep up.

He returned to his watching position, feeling a lot more cheerful. Progress had definitely been made. And a bike would be good exercise. You can go anywhere on a bike, he said to himself. Even out into the country. Even to Long Farnden, if necessary.

And the best news of all was that his quarry was still around, still local.

LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, DEREK HAD BEEN RELIEVED WHEN IT became apparent that the only danger threatening Jack Jr. had been catching cold from sleeping in a cold draft on a friend’s floor. “No doubt having another try at drawing attention to himself,” he had said to Lois, pleased that this time she would have no reason to ferret about trying to find a mythical kidnapper.

To his annoyance, she had raised her eyebrows and said if he believed that story he would believe anything. “The poor kid’s the best liar in the county,” she had said.

Now, as they sat in silence at the breakfast table, Gran attempted to get a conversation going. “Only five more days to go to blast off,” she said cheerfully. “How’s it going, Derek? All the entries finished and rarin’ to go?”

“Sorry?” said Derek, looking up from opening his post.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you!” said Gran, thumping the table. “Well, if you two want to carry on this silly business, I don’t. So you can stack the breakfast things yourselves. I’m off down the shop to have a civilized talk with Josie, who knows how to behave like an adult. Unlike some people I know.”

“Hey, Mum, what’s all this-?”

But Gran had stormed out, grabbed a coat from the hall, and was on her way before Lois could reach her.

“Oh, dear,” said Derek. “Do you think she’s possibly offended?” He looked at Lois with a serious expression, and for a moment she glared at him. Then she began to laugh.

“Looks like it,” she said. “Silly old bat. But no, she’s not silly. We are. Look, Derek, I know you think Jack Jr.’s explanation is the truth, but the person who knows him best, Paula, thinks otherwise. And if she doesn’t believe him, then I don’t either. I’m getting to know that young man, and I think he’s a good liar and a very scared thirteen-year-old child. What’s more, his mum thinks he’s planning something, and it could be very dangerous. So I’m working on the probability that he was abducted, and the need to find whoever did it as quickly as possible.”

“And Cowgill? Does he think this, too?”

Lois nodded. “And before you ask, he was thinking this before I talked to him.”

Derek sighed. “So is this going to be general knowledge? Is the soap box grand prix still to have this hanging over it?”

“Bugger the soap box grand prix!” retorted Lois. “That boy’s life is more important. And for all we know, the lives of other people. Don’t forget his father’s not been found yet. He didn’t go missing again for nothing. And no, it is not going to be general knowledge, so don’t worry, nothing will spoil the soap box day.”

“I heard that,” said Gran, coming silently back into the kitchen. “And I shouldn’t bet on it.”

“I thought you were-”

“Shop’s not open yet. I didn’t look at the time. There’s a quarter of an hour to go, and I wouldn’t knock and be a nuisance at this hour of the morning.”

“How thoughtful,” said Lois acidly. “Well, as you have obviously heard, we are now talking to one another. Come on in, Mum,” she added, relenting. “Let’s make some more coffee. We’re sorry, aren’t we, Derek?”

“Heartbroken,” said Derek. He stood up and gave both of them a peck on the cheek. “Must be off now. Last meeting tonight before the final rehearsal on the playing field on Friday.”

After he had gone, Lois said she needed a quiet morning in the office. “Can you keep callers at bay, Mum?” she said. “I want a clear run without interruptions this morning.”

Gran beamed. Nothing she liked better than keeping callers at bay, but making sure she found out what they wanted first. “Leave it to me,” she said. “The only interruption will be when I bring in your coffee.”

Within ten minutes, Lois’s phone began to ring. Before she could reach out for the receiver, it stopped. Then she heard Gran’s loud voice from the kitchen, saying she was sorry, but Mrs. Meade was unavailable this morning. Lois grinned, and turned on her computer.

Time to take stock, she had thought. Priority number one: find Jack’s father, and persuade him to give himself up, for the boy’s sake. This was supposing he had been the kidnapper. Even if he wasn’t, he was needed by Paula and her family.

Priority number two: if he wasn’t guilty, then find out who was and bring him to justice. Again, for Jack Jr.’s sake. If he was protecting someone with his lies, then he would never be at peace and stand a chance of being a normal teenager until it was sorted out.

And then she thought of something which was glaringly obvious, but so far she had missed. Why would someone not his father want to kidnap the boy? What was to be got out of it? Certainly not money. Paula Hickson hadn’t a spare penny, so that couldn’t be it.

The telephone rang again, and this time Gran came to the office door with a resigned expression. “It’s him, the inspector,” she said. “Won’t be put off.”

Lois nodded, and lifted up her phone. “Yeah? Lois here.”

Cowgill wasted no time. “I think we’ve got a feud here, Lois,” he said. “If Jack Jr.’s father wasn’t the one who took him, then the only possible reason for another to have done it is an old score to be settled. What d’you think?”

“Telepathy,” said Lois. “I was nearly there. Looks the most likely, I agree. So what next?”

“Find out who has a grudge against Jack Hickson. Speak to Paula, if you can. She respects you, and probably trusts you. She might well have the answer. Can you get down there straightaway?”

“I don’t need to,” Lois said. “I know who had a grudge. It was at the time Jack was given his cards. Another bloke was taunting him, and Jack fetched him one. It landed in a bad place, and he had to be treated in hospital. Is that grudge enough, d’you reckon?”

There was a silence, and then Cowgill said, “How long have you known this, Lois?”