Danielle Ramsay - Vanishing Point

Brady stared into her eyes. He knew she held the key to the whereabouts of both Melissa Ryecroft and Nicoletta.

‘Monika?’ he whispered, crouching down. ‘Where’s Melissa? Girl who looks just like you. They took her. The men that took you, they took her as well. And another girl, Nicoletta. Where are they?’

Monika stared at him, eyes wide with terror.

She somehow managed to shake her head.

‘No … no …’ she mumbled with a heavy Eastern European accent.

‘What, Monika? What did they do?’

‘They … they have her. Took her in the van …’ she mumbled in shock.

Brady watched, feeling his stomach contract.

‘Who? Monika? Took who?’ he desperately demanded.

‘Melissa …’ she whispered.

‘Nicoletta? What about Nicoletta?’ pleaded Brady.

She looked at him terrified. She shook her head.

‘I don’t know … . I don’t know …’

Brady felt sick. He realised she was telling the truth. She had no idea.

He then thought of Melissa. The black Mercedes van in which the Dabkunas brothers had sped off.

He didn’t have time to think. He had to react.

He didn’t realise it but he was shaking. Trembling uncontrollably.

A paramedic wrapped a blanket around him.

Brady threw it off.

He limped to his car just as the Ambassador’s Russian-plated limousine pulled up.

The driver got out. But the Ambassador had already got out first. He pushed his way through the police towards Brady. His bright blue eyes mad with fear.

‘Monika?’ he questioned. ‘My daughter? Monika?’

Brady touched the Ambassador on the shoulder to reassure him.

‘She’s going to be alright,’ Brady said.

Tears flowed down the Ambassador’s face as he lost all restraint.

He nodded in gratitude.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Brady watched as he left him and moved through the officers and medics to get to his daughter.

He turned to make his way to the Granada, catching the Ambassador’s driver’s eye as he did so. The other man gave Brady a curt, stiff nod of respect before he took charge again.

Brady automatically checked the limousine as he passed it, but could see that Nick wasn’t in the car. He expected no less.

He walked over and climbed in the Granada. He then picked up his phone.

He had four missed calls from DS Harvey.

‘Tom?’ he questioned. ‘Where are you?’

‘Wallsend docks, Jack.’

‘Did you get them?’

‘The bastards got away from us. They had another car waiting for them. Took off before we realised it. Daniels and Kenny tried to follow but they’ve just disappeared. The chopper’s looking for them now but I wouldn’t hold much hope. Didn’t even see the make of the car. Looked like a black BMW saloon, but couldn’t be sure. Didn’t even get a partial on the licence plate. Between the two cars we managed to get the van off the road. But they were too quick. They’d had a car following. They’d obviously planned to dump the van.’

Brady sat back. His breathing shallow and low as he listened.

He didn’t want to ask the inevitable question. But he had no choice.

‘Are they there? In the van? Melissa Ryecroft? Nicoletta?’

‘I’m sorry, Jack. I really am,’ answered Harvey.

‘For fuck’s sake, Tom. Just give it to me straight will you?’

Brady noticed that his free hand was trembling.

‘Melissa Ryecroft is in a bad way. She’s been badly beaten and raped, but she’s still alive. Paramedics are taking her to Rake Lane. But …’ Harvey’s voice faltered.

‘What? What did they do to Nicoletta? What the fuck did they do?’ demanded Brady.

‘She’s not there, Jack. We have no idea where she is,’ answered Harvey quietly.

‘What about Melissa Ryecroft? Does she know what’s happened to Nicoletta?’ asked Brady, unable to keep the desperation from his voice.

‘I’ve questioned her about Nicoletta. And she’s answered as well as she could under the circumstances. But she doesn’t know her whereabouts or what happened to her.’

Brady hung up. There was nothing left to say.

He didn’t have the time to fill Harvey in on all the details. Not that he knew, anyway. He would have to wait until the Ambassador made a formal statement to know whether or not his daughter had been kidnapped and held for ransom. And what part his own brother had played.

He needed to get as far away from the flashing blue lights and screeching sirens as he could. He would answer questions later. First he needed to find Nick. He needed to check he was alright. And then he needed answers.

He pulled back onto the Links dual carriage way and sped back towards the lighthouse, trying to block out the image of Conrad lying on the ground, unconscious. The paramedics had assured him he would be alright. That it was a superficial wound. The bullet had gone through his shoulder. It could have been worse: it could have gone through a vital organ. Not that that made Brady feel any better.

He still felt as if he was going to throw up.

How could he have let this happen to Conrad?

Frustrated and angry with himself, he violently swung the car off the dual carriageway, turning as tyres protested onto the single-lane road towards the lighthouse. He sped past the first car park, forcing the car round the bend into the second one.

His headlights lit up the bleak, isolated spot. It was deserted.

He got out the car, leaving the engine running and walked over to where he had seen his brother fall. Blood covered the ground. Nick’s blood.

Brady wildly looked about him. No one.

‘Nick!’ he frantically screamed at the top of his voice.

‘Nick?’ he repeated in all directions until his voice turned hoarse.

Nothing. He had gone.

Chapter Forty-Six

Brady looked up expectantly at Claudia as she walked out of Simone Henderson’s room.

Despite the fact it was 2:47am she was still dressed for the Ambassador’s function at the Grand Hotel in a long black dress. In her hand she carried a pair of designer three-inch heels.

Brady stood up, holding back a wince. His leg and ribs still throbbed from the exertion of running after Ronnie Macmillan.

Claudia walked over to him, her bare feet softly padding against the sterile floor.

She shook her head apologetically.

‘I’m sorry … she’s refusing to see you, Jack.’

Brady tried to swallow back his emotions.

‘I … I understand …’

‘She’s just not ready to see anyone,’ explained Claudia.

But he wasn’t anyone, thought Brady.

He nodded. He would give her some time and then he would come back. He needed to talk to her. Reassure her that he would be there if she needed him. Brady accepted that it was irrational to feel responsible for what had happened to Simone, but it didn’t lessen the overwhelming guilt he felt.

‘What do you think she’ll do when she recovers?’ asked Brady.

‘I know the force wouldn’t turn their back on her. I’m sure they’d find a position for her when she’s ready,’ quietly answered Claudia.

‘What? A desk job? That’s not Simone. It would kill her …’ Brady said, faltering.

‘I don’t know, Jack. I think the focus right now is on her recovery.’

Brady turned away from Claudia. He didn’t want her to see how the thought of what lay ahead for Simone pained him.

‘At least we have her evidence against Ronnie Macmillan and his men. And the Dabkunas brothers,’ stated Claudia optimistically, in an attempt to change the subject.

But Brady knew it was false optimism. They might have evidence against the Dabkunas brothers. But that was all.

‘I’ve got to go,’ he muttered dejectedly.