Jack Slater - Nowhere to Run

‘I’m sorry. I know how you feel, Mrs Whitlock, and—’

‘Don’t be so bloody patronising,’ Alistair snapped. ‘How the hell can you possibly know how we feel?’

‘Sir, I . . .’

‘Has your daughter ever gone missing, Sergeant?’

Pete felt himself go pale, a wave of coldness sweeping through him.

‘DS Gayle lost his son in similar circumstances, just a few months ago, sir,’ Jane said stiffly. ‘So he knows exactly how it feels. I don’t, but he does.’

‘That’ll do, Jane,’ Pete said softly.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Yes, well . . . As DS Gayle was saying, we’ll do all we can to find your daughter and bring her back safe.’

*

Lauren woke in complete darkness, snuggled tight against the warm body of another person. For a brief moment she felt safe and cosseted. Then the smell of the hay brought her back to reality with a jerk. Who was this other person? Another girl. She smelled feminine. Lauren could feel her long hair, a skirt and bare legs against her own. Where had she come from? She tried to ask, but there was a gag in her mouth. She moved to free it but her hands were tied behind her with something thin and hard. Shifting in the hay, she found her ankles were bound too. Shit, they really meant business now.

‘Iss OK.’

The other girl tried to say more, but was clearly also gagged.

‘Uh-huh.’ Lauren swallowed, but it went the wrong way and she began to choke and cough. She heard the other girl trying to say something through her gag, but couldn’t make it out. Then she moved in the darkness. Lauren felt hands brush against her clothes. Her choking was getting more urgent as she fought for breath. The other girl’s hands fumbled blindly, moving from her cardigan to her blouse to the knee-length sock that was tied across her face as a gag. She felt the gag being pulled away and stiffened her neck, pulling back to help. The knotted cloth snapped free and she was coughing and gasping.

Finally, with a clear airway, the coughing fit ended, leaving her panting for breath.

‘Thanks,’ she gasped. ‘That nearly killed me. Roll over, I’ll get yours.’

Lauren felt the girl roll away, heard the rustle of movement, then felt hair against her face. The girl’s body pressed warm against hers before moving downward as Lauren went the other way until her head bumped painfully into the wall.

‘Ouch. You’ll have to go further. I’ve hit the wall,’ she said.

‘Uh-huh.’

Lauren rolled over and got to her knees. Felt around with her bound hands. ‘Where are you?’ The sharp ends of the hay dug into her shins, but she ignored them as she searched awkwardly. She touched wool, then cotton. Skin, firm over bone, then the softness of a cheek. Cloth. A sock. She grunted and fumbled along the tightly stretched material, towards the girl’s mouth. Her finger brushed a lip and the girl grunted something. Lauren got a hold of the material and pulled. She felt the other girl pulling back, the material stretching. Lauren’s fingers ached with the strain, but she kept pulling, straining to get the gag free. Then her fingers gave way. She cried out as sock snapped back into place and the other girl moaned in frustration.

‘Sorry.’

They tried again. The girl opened her mouth as wide as she could, tilting her head and working her jaw to try to get it free. Lauren felt the gag catch briefly on the girl’s front teeth, but then it was out.

‘There.’ Lauren heard the snap of the girl’s teeth closing, then the draw of breath. ‘No use yelling,’ she said. ‘Nobody will hear.’

The other girl moaned and rolled onto her back. ‘Where are we? What’s happening?’

Pete waited until they were in the car and Jane had turned out of the Whitlocks’ drive.

‘So, what did you get from her?’

‘You were right. She doesn’t like her brother-in-law. He’s way too familiar for her taste – with her and with Rosie – but she’s not aware of any signs of actual abuse, from him or from anyone else. And, as a teacher, she should know what to look for.’

‘Yes, but is she being honest? With us or with herself?’

Jane shrugged. ‘I suppose she could be in denial because it’s easier that way.’

‘Regardless of what she says, we’ve got to check everyone out for ourselves. Friends, family, colleagues, the lot. I’d better phone Lou. Tell her I’m going to be late.’

‘You already are, boss. You should have been home forty minutes ago.’

‘Shit.’ He pulled his mobile from his pocket, called up his home phone and hit ‘dial’.

‘Hello?’

‘Lou? It’s me. Sorry, love, I’m running a bit late. We had a case come in about twenty minutes before I was due to knock off. The kind of thing I can’t just leave to the morning.’

‘Why’s it got to be yours?’

‘Everybody else has got a full caseload. I’m just back, so mine’s empty. Simple as that.’ He shot Jane a glance that told her to keep her raised eyebrow to herself.

He heard Louise sigh on the other end of the phone. ‘All right.’

‘I’ll bring fish and chips, how’s that?’

‘We’ll see you when we do then.’

‘I shan’t be too late.’ He ended the call and looked across at Jane.

‘None of my business, boss.’ She shrugged.

‘That’s right. But, no, I’m not deliberately trying to stay away from home. This does need sorting. And she wouldn’t understand that, in the circumstances, so I just tried to make both our lives easier, all right?’

‘So, where do we start?’

‘We need to speak to this Becky Sanderson and do background checks on the people Alistair Whitlock’s given us. Also, we need to check Jessica’s route from home to the school for CCTV cameras, get the call log on Rosie’s phone and see if we can get into her laptop. Then we see who we can get hold of and go from there.’

*

‘We’re in a barn in the middle of bloody nowhere. And what’s going on is some sicko bastard and his sidekick have snatched us and put us here, to play with as they feel like.’

‘But . . .’ The girl paused. ‘You mean . . .’

‘Yeah. Bloody paedos.’ Lauren shuddered. ‘Perverts.’

‘What’s your name?’ The girl was well spoken, almost posh sounding.

‘Lauren Carter. What’s yours?’

‘Rosie. Rosie Whitlock. How old are you?’

‘Ten last month. You?’

‘Thirteen.’

‘Well, thanks again for getting that bloody gag out of my mouth. I bloody near choked on it.’ She felt the damp material hanging around her neck like a cowboy’s bandana.

‘That’s all right. Thanks for helping with mine.’

‘So, what now?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, we’ve got to get out of here, haven’t we? I mean, for one thing, they’re not going to like it that we’ve got our gags off. Plus, if we stay put, they’re going to . . . Well, you know what they’re going to do.’

‘Oh God!’

‘Yeah, where’s he when you need him?’

*

Pete handed Rosie Whitlock’s laptop to Dave Miles.

‘Here, see if you can get into that, will you?’ He sat down at his desk. ‘Jane, you get hold of Becky Sanderson. Find out what she’s got to say about Rosie. Is Colin still in?’ He directed the question to Dave.

‘No, he’s gone off home.’

‘What about Fast-track Phil?’

‘In his office.’

‘He would be, wouldn’t he? OK, I’ll go and have a word.’ He got up and headed for Adam Silverstone’s office, going via the corridor, rather than through the DI’s office. He knocked sharply on the door.

‘Come.’

He stepped in. Silverstone was behind his desk, a file open in front of him. ‘Ah, Peter. What have we got?’