G.D. Sanders - The Victim

‘Hi, Brian, what can I do for you?’

‘I’m calling to ask a favour.’

‘Hit me.’

‘We’ve just appointed a new DS.’

‘And?’

‘He’s sharp, but still a bit police school. I want him to start thinking laterally, outside the box. I was wondering if—’

‘Surely you can handle that?’

‘Yes … but I think you’d do a better job.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘If you could spend an hour with him, talk through the way you handled the serial abductions investigation.’

Ed thought for a moment and then decided to reward herself with a trip to Maidstone.

‘Okay … how about tomorrow? I could get over to you by nine.’

‘Give me five minutes. I’ll call you back.’

Twelve minutes later Ed’s phone rang. It was Brian.

‘First thing tomorrow’s not good for him. Is there any chance you could make it after eleven?’

‘Tell him I’ll be there at half past.’

‘Thanks, Ed, I’ll make sure he’s here waiting.’

‘By the way, what’s his name?’

‘It’s Dan, DS Daniel Wheadon. As I said, he’s not been with us long. It will be good for him to have a chat with you.’

‘No problem, but you owe me.’ Ed paused as her memories of previous visits to Maidstone came flooding back. ‘Remember those coffees you used to greet me with? It would be good if Dan did the same.’

‘Consider it done.’

DS Daniel Wheadon looked younger than his 26 years. Short sandy hair, tight and wiry against his head, enhanced his boyish features. His clothes hung easily on a slim, lithe body which, as Ed would discover, was more muscular than it first appeared. He’d greeted her with a coffee in each hand and led her to an Interview Room where they sat in chairs arranged at right angles across the corner of the table.

‘Right. Brian said you’d like to hear about our recent case of serial abduction.’

Dan looked a little embarrassed. ‘He said I’d learn a lot from the methods you used to solve the case. It would be a privilege to hear it from the Senior Officer.’

‘It was a team effort. I’ve got a good bunch of colleagues in Canterbury. As for DI Saunders, we didn’t overlap much, but from what I saw of Brian, you’re lucky to be working with him.’

‘We’ve got on well so far.’

‘Keep it that way.’ Ed paused. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ She took a sip and then began. ‘Right, I’ll take you through the investigation from the beginning. Stop me at any time if you have a question.’

Fifty minutes later, coffees drained, they’d finished their chat. Daniel picked up the empty cups. ‘I’ll just get rid of these.’

Ed smiled. ‘I’ll go to the loo and meet you back here.’

As Ed re-entered the corridor, she saw DS Wheadon standing by the Interview Room door. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned and smiled.

‘It’s a bit early, but, if you’re not in a hurry, I thought we might grab some lunch. There’s a pub round the corner.’

‘I was thinking the same thing.’ Ed didn’t add she’d been thinking the same thing ever since Daniel had introduced himself earlier that morning.

The pub was literally around the corner.

‘I’ll go to the bar. What’ll you have?’

‘A sandwich would be good, anything but tuna.’

‘Drink?’

‘Tonic, ice and lemon,’ said Ed, ‘I’m driving back to Canterbury this afternoon.’

Familiar as she was with the drinking habits of old colleagues at the Met, Ed didn’t remind him they were technically on duty, so she was pleased to see Daniel return with her tonic and a mineral water for himself.

‘Cheers.’ Daniel touched his glass against Ed’s. ‘Thanks for making time to talk me through the investigation. I’d already heard about the neat way you narrowed your search for the abductor’s hideout. It’s entered local folklore.’

Ed smiled inwardly, but she wasn’t about to bask in perceived glory. ‘As I said, I’ve got a good team at Canterbury.’ She took a mouthful of tonic. ‘How about you?’

‘I came here from Medway, Chatham actually, to get my promotion to Sergeant. Still settling in, but I’m getting on well with the team – as you said, Brian Saunders is a good boss.’

‘And apart from work?’

‘Rugby. I used to play for Medway, now I’ve transferred to Maidstone. You?’

‘Nothing so energetic. I work out at the gym, but since I outgrew self-defence classes, I prefer to spend my free time in a wine bar or restaurant.’

Daniel’s phone rang, but he ignored it. ‘Favourite food?’

‘I’m open to anything, but if pushed, I’d say Italian. We’re well served in Canterbury. There’s a good family-run trattoria near the County Courts.’

With her eyes on Daniel, Ed stirred her drink, waiting for him to reply.

‘We’re playing a summer friendly at Canterbury next Saturday. If you’re free, and fancy meeting for a meal, I’ll forgo the post-match beers.’

‘I’d like that. Are you sure you’ll be up for it?’

‘Friendlies aren’t particularly gentle, but I’ll make sure I’m intact.’

‘Excellent. I’ll book Gino’s, the Italian, for seven-thirty if that suits.’

‘Sounds good to me. The match will finish late afternoon. I could meet you earlier.’

‘Okay. Here’s my mobile number. Call me when you’re free. Perhaps we could meet for a drink before eating.’

By now, counting Jackie from Rainham, I’d worked my way through seventeen lonely women in flat-shares, bedsits or still living at home. Frankly, I was getting anxious. Everything was in place for the main event. In less than a fortnight, I’d have to move in on my chosen woman in Canterbury. Then, just when I thought the practice run would be a nonstarter, I struck lucky; Kay from Dover, the eighteenth woman from the dating app, was up for it.

Kay was great, no need to nudge her at all. When I asked where we should meet, she opted for a pub in the town centre at seven-thirty, but then insisted we swap numbers, in case something came up. I set up a WhatsApp account because it’s encrypted, but she didn’t use it. I was on the train to meet her in Dover, when she texted, asking if we were still on. I replied, sure, see you there, which was exactly what I intended to do. After a drink near the railway station, I arrived at our rendezvous ten minutes late. On my way to the bar, I caught sight of Kay from the corner of my eye. Keeping my back to her, I bought a pint and moved away to a stool from where I could see her, but there was little chance she’d notice me. Anyway, if she did look in my direction, she’d be searching for the guy in my fake profile; she’d not give me a second glance.

Kay from Dover was sitting alone, at a table by the wall. To my surprise, she looked exactly like her photo; face a little chubby with too much make-up. Her clothes, a loose top and knee-length skirt, did nothing to disguise the fact that she was more than a little overweight. Definitely not my type, but what the hell, she was only a practice run. I went to the Gents, reversed my hoodie, turned my cotton bag inside out, swapped my beanie for a baseball cap and went back to my pint.

Fifty minutes after we were due to meet, Kay was looking thoroughly miserable and she showed signs of being about to leave. I drained my glass, slipped out ahead of her and lingered across the road, checking my phone. When Kay left, she walked along the Folkestone Road towards the outskirts of Dover. I hung back and followed on the opposite pavement. When she turned into a side street, I pretended to look at my phone and saw her go into a small block of flats with a For Sale sign by the door. I watched the dark windows of the building until a light went on in a second-floor window, to the right of the entrance. Pocketing my phone, I walked further along the Folkestone Road and then circled back, to stroll past the building and check the agent’s board.