Michael Robotham - Say You're sorry

“You’re breaking up, Piper. Try to stand still.”

Can you hear me now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you crying, Daddy?”

“I’m just really happy.”

“So am I. It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too.”

“I didn’t run away, Daddy. We talked about doing it, but we didn’t get a chance. A man took us. Can you tell Mum? I don’t want her thinking that I don’t love her. And tell Phoebe and Ben and my little sister. What’s her name?”

“Jessica.”

“That’s pretty.”

“What did you tell the police?”

“Just what I told you. Tash escaped but he caught her again. I couldn’t find her and I’m scared he’s going to do something to her if I don’t go back.”

“Don’t worry about Tash. Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know.”

“We’re going to find you, baby. They’ll trace the call.”

“He’s still looking for me. I have to hide.”

“Can you wait a second, sweetheart?”

“Don’t go away.”

“I won’t.”

I can hear him having a conversation. Someone is talking about calling the police.

“Are you there?”

“I’m here, Daddy.”

“The police are trying to find you. Stay on the line. Don’t move, Piper.”

“What if he comes? I’m scared.”

“I know you are. I’m with a man called Joe. He’s going to talk to you.”

“Hello, Piper.”

“Hi.”

He has a nice voice, soft but strong, not wheedling like George.

“Where are you right now?” he asks. “Describe it for me.”

“I’m in a forest, standing on a ridge. I couldn’t get any signal so I climbed higher. I don’t have much battery left.”

“Where did you get the phone?”

“I took it from George.”

“Is that the man who’s been holding you?”

“Yeah.”

“His name is George?”

“I don’t know. Tash called him George. She said he looked like George Clooney, but he doesn’t really, not unless George Clooney has put on weight and got ugly. Has he got ugly?”

“My wife doesn’t think so.”

“That’s good.”

“What can you see, Piper?”

“Trees.”

“Anything else-a landmark, a river, or a road or a railway line?”

“No.”

“You said you escaped.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you escape from?”

“It was some sort of factory but it’s empty and everything is broken and overgrown. Are you there, Daddy?”

“I’m here.”

“Please come and get me.”

“I will.”

“It’s getting dark and I can’t stop shivering.”

A bird lifts from the trees behind me. Jerking my head around, I search the shadows.

“Piper?”

“I thought I heard something.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I can’t talk very loud in case he hears me.”

Joe speaks. “When did you last see George?”

“I don’t know what time it was. He said he was going to get Emily.”

“What?”

“He had a photograph of Emily in his wallet. He said he was going to get me a friend. I told him I didn’t want a friend. You have to stop him. You have to warn her.”

“We will. What does George look like?”

“He’s old and ugly.”

“What color is his hair?”

“Brown.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know-thirty or forty.”

“Is he tall?”

“Taller than Daddy, but he has small hands. I’m wearing his coat. It hangs down to my ankles. Are you still there, Daddy?”

“I’m here. The police are tracking the signal. I want you to stay put.”

“It’s getting dark.”

“I know.”

“What about Emily?”

Joe answers. “We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“It’s starting to rain.”

“Can you find somewhere out of the rain?”

“I don’t know. I just want to curl up and go to sleep.”

“No,” says Joe. “You mustn’t fall asleep. You should keep moving.”

“Daddy told me to stay still.”

“You mustn’t fall asleep. Try to stay warm.”

“ OK. I can’t feel my fingers. I’m just going to swap hands…”

…

“Hello?”

…

“Daddy?”

…

“Joe.”

…

“Are you there?”

Dale Hadley is cradling his phone in both hands as though he’s dropped a priceless vase and is holding the broken pieces.

“The line went dead.”

“She’ll call back.”

“There’s no number on the screen.”

“She’ll call.”

“What if the battery has run out?”

“They’ll still be able to track the previous signal.”

“She’s cold. I could hear her teeth chattering.”

“They’ll find her.”

“She was slurring her words.” He groans helplessly. “Oh God, oh God, we can’t lose her now.”

I hold his shoulders, tell him to breathe. Relax. Stay calm. Piper is going to need him. She’s going to hang on, but only if he does the same.

Ruiz has DCI Drury on the line. I take the phone and can hear Drury yelling instructions across the incident room. He’s with me now.

“Piper Hadley called 999 twenty minutes ago but the signal dropped out. She’s on a mobile. We’ve been tracing a second call but lost it two minutes ago.”

“She was talking to her father. The call dropped out.”

“We have the number but the mobile isn’t transmitting any more. The initial call came into the control center at Milton Keynes and was transferred to Abingdon. The number is listed to a pay-as-you-go subscriber. The handset doesn’t have a GPS locator, but the control room has tracking technology. The call was picked up by three towers, which means we can triangulate the signal.”

“What about the nearest base station?”

“It’s a thirty-two-meter tower in a field about half a mile north of Culham Railway Station.”

“Dr. Leece mentioned Culham.”

“Why?”

“They found traces of tritium in Natasha’s urine. It’s a low-level radioactive pollutant-a by-product of nuclear reactors. She must have consumed tritiated water.”

“There are no nuclear reactors in Oxfordshire.”

“There’s a nuclear fusion research laboratory just outside of Culham.”

Drury yells more instructions across the incident room, fortified and energized. He’s on the scent.

“I’m cancelling Christmas leave. Recalling officers. I can put forty bodies on the ground. Civilian search and rescue teams will give us twice that number. We’re focusing on the closest phone tower until we get a more precise location. I’ll send a team to the research center. There are police choppers at Luton and Benson, but the weather is shit and it’s going to be dark in an hour.”

Dale Hadley is listening to the conversation. I don’t want to voice my main concern. Piper won’t survive another night outdoors. Either we find her or she has to find somewhere warm and protected.

The DCI hangs up. He wants us back at the station.

Dale Hadley is still nursing his phone. “Maybe George found her,” he says. “Why else would the phone be turned off?”

“There could be other explanations.”

“Like what?”

“The batteries might be flat. She might be out of range.”

I take him back over Piper’s call, gleaning every detail. She called the man George but said it was just a nickname. He was tall with brown hair, aged thirty to forty with small hands. He had a photograph of Emily Martinez in his wallet.

I turn to Ruiz. “Let me ask you something: what sort of man keeps a photograph of a teenage girl in his wallet?”

“A boyfriend.”

“Someone older.”

“A father.”

“Come on.”

Ruiz is behind the wheel, braking late, throwing the Range Rover around corners. Wiper blades slap against the rim of the windscreen.