Deadly Lies Read online

  ‘I’ve been researching kidnappers,’ Ruby said. ‘Half the perpetrators turn out to be family members. Of the remaining half, about one third are taken by friends or long-term acquaintances, and two thirds by strangers or persons who have made a slight acquaintance in order to carry out the kidnapping.’

  Grant tapped the pen on the board. ‘With no ransom demand, we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Then we have a dark estate car and the digits TMR from its number plate. I’m hoping Diane will bring the results from the surveillance cameras.’

  It was a mammoth operation – Grant was assessing and sifting through as he went – checking his own decisions and identifying new priorities.

  ‘Then we’ve got the key. Jack Glover’s was on the hook in his kitchen. We’re no further forward with finding out about the back door entry.’

  Grant had pinned up photographs of Lisa and Emily along with a timeline since their abduction. The stress and the pressure were on his shoulders.

  ‘And there’s been one more breakthrough from the door-to-door – a neighbour at the end of Joan Hardman’s street has seen a woman hanging around,’ Grant said. ‘I met the witness and she’s reliable – she’s a retired science teacher. She’s seen the same woman on three or four occasions over the last few months. She described her as twenties to thirties, wearing jeans and a dark coat, dark wavy hair, medium height and build.’

  ‘What was the woman doing?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘Nothing much which was why our witness noticed. The woman walked along one side of the street and back along the other side. Then she stood for more than ten minutes on the phone. I’m making it a priority to identify this woman and bring her in for questioning.’

  ‘Do we have a description of the Badawi daughters? Could they be a match?’ Delaney asked.

  Oh, Delaney was good.

  ‘Do we McGowan?’ Grant asked.

  ‘Both Ms Badawis are in their early twenties. I’ll check descriptions.’

  ‘Get me a photograph of the neighbour, Natalie. Interviewing Phil Hardman, his son Harry and the accountant Daniel Pearson is the next step.’

  Grant was interrupted by the arrival of Diane. She was out of breath.

  ‘Sorry, sir, I just ran up here from the car park.’

  ‘If you’re in a rush it means you’ve got something important, doesn’t it?’ Delaney said.

  ‘I might have, or I might be clutching at straws.’

  ‘Someone pour Diane a coffee,’ Grant said. ‘Better still, I’ll do it myself.’

  ‘What have you got?’ Grant put a hot mug down on Diane’s desk.

  ‘We found positive footage from a camera outside the cinema and it shows a dark blue estate car heading out of Himlands Heath just after the time of the abduction. I’ve got the full registration,’ she said triumphantly.

  Grant glanced at the clock. ‘At just over twelve hours into the abduction, that’s great work.’

  ‘There’s something else. There are two possible routes after the cinema and I was trying to find any businesses with surveillance on those roads. The council cameras don’t cover beyond the high street.’

  Diane went to the giant map on the wall. She indicated the roads going out of town to the south. ‘There are only two other businesses with cameras, one here and one here, and neither of them had footage of the car. Then I found one more camera. It’s on the edge of town and it had stopped working.’

  She tapped the board. ‘It’s at a fish and chip shop at the roundabout heading towards the A23 to Brighton. The odd thing was, the owner told me his son looks after the surveillance camera and it’s always in working order.’

  ‘Cameras break down all the time,’ McGowan said. ‘Especially the home-fitted ones.’

  ‘I know,’ Diane said, ‘except…’

  ‘Ah, I recognise that look,’ Grant said. ‘You suspect it could have been tampered with, don’t you? Tell me everything you’re thinking.’

  Diane drew a red ring around the location of the fish and chip shop.

  ‘I met the father and the son. They’ve had one break-in and two attempts in the past year and the camera helped catch the first perpetrator. The father told me they can’t afford to have it not working which is why the son checks it regularly. And he says his son is one hundred per cent reliable.’

  ‘And you don’t think the son could have slipped up?’

  ‘Unlikely. He told me himself he checks it pretty much every day. I know the obvious is it stopped working and nobody noticed except I can’t help thinking – what if the abductor took out the camera in advance so he wouldn’t be spotted exiting this roundabout?’

  ‘Show me,’ Grant said.

  ‘There are three possible exits and on this road,’ Diane followed it with her finger, ‘there’s an old site which used to house storage units…’

  ‘Are you certain you’re not latching on to it because it’s the only pointer we’ve got?’ Grant asked. ‘You’re sure the fish and chip story checks out?’

  They were valid questions. Child abduction cases piled on the pressure. The heat was on to get something.

  Diane shook her head and her voice betrayed her excitement. ‘Sir, I think it’s worth a shot.’

  Everyone stared at him.

  Grant kept icy cool. Diversion to a search took resources away from the house to house. It was always more attractive to be taking action rather than searching for leads. Yet false action was wasteful – and it was a trap he could not allow the investigation to fall into. Plus they had new suspects to question.

  If the son had messed up and not wanted to tell the father, Grant knew Diane would have suspected. And the lock-ups would be a perfect hiding place.

  The buck stopped with him. Grant nodded to himself and swooped up his jacket.

  ‘We search the lock-ups. McGowan, get working on the Badawi girls. Silver, I want you back at the Glovers keeping tabs on the parents. Collins and Delaney, you’re with me.’

  14

  Tom drove and he took Grant and Diane with him. The tension in the car had ratcheted up the scale and neither the boss nor Diane talked much. Were the girls still alive? What would they find at the lock-ups? Tom’s hands were sweating on the wheel and a team of six constables followed behind them, without sirens, on Grant’s orders.

  The lock-ups were deserted. It was a disused site, surrounded by a chain-link fence yet with the front gate removed. They drove in along a battered tarmac road. Tom counted twenty storage units in all. Organised along two separate roads, they were giant metal containers each bigger than your average double garage. Given the scale of them, they must have been used for business or industrial storage. The metal sides of the units were deep rust coloured and weeds broke up the tarmac, giving the place a desolate air. Diane told them the site had been bought by the local Council with a view to building start-up pods for new businesses.

  It would be an ideal place to hide out. Tom couldn’t help thinking it would be even more ideal for stashing a body. He pushed that thought away.

  Each unit had giant metal doors with metal retaining bars. They’d brought crowbars and heavy cutting equipment. The council had acquired the site when the storage company went into liquidation and they’d given the police permission to enter. The council had informed Diane there were no items in the lock-ups or if there were, the council wasn’t aware of it.

  If there were any nasty surprises, they’d soon find out.

  Grant gave the orders. ‘We’ll split into two teams. Collins you lead one and take Delaney with you and three of the constables. If you find anything or any traces of recent activity, be careful not to contaminate the scene. Our first priority is preservation of life, our second is evidence.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Diane said.

  ‘Remember to listen at each container. If the children are here, they might try to signal,’ Grant said. ‘Once we start cutting in, no one will be able to hear a thing.’

  The adrenalin was pulsing so strong
, Tom felt like he wanted to rip open the units with his bare hands. Even Grant had started sweating and he had ordered paramedics to stand by. In case.

  Diane led her group. Tom knew the chief had given Diane a lead as a mark of his approval. Grant was good at recognising when people had done well. Sifting through hours of footage would have been like hell. This was Diane’s win.

  Diane’s team grouped around her. ‘We’ll first check the perimeter of each unit,’ Diane said. ‘We’re looking for footprints or tyre tracks or discarded items. Notice if weeds have been trampled or if there are any signs of recent activity. Once we’ve searched the outside of each one and listened, then we try to enter.’

  Diane patted Tom on the shoulder. ‘Let’s you and me check the first one.’

  At the first unit in the row Tom pressed his ear against the cold metal. He called the children’s names and tapped on the sides all the while looking for signs of recent entry.

  ‘Emily? Lisa? I’m a police officer.’

  He heard other officers doing the same at the containers on Grant’s side. Was it possible the abductor was holed up inside one of the units? Tom felt ready for anything.

  ‘Nothing,’ Diane said. ‘Let’s check the next one.’

  The doors of the second storage were practically hanging open. They followed the protocol and called out and inspected the area for signs of activity. Again there was nothing.

  On the next unit the doors were firmly closed with the metal retaining bars kept in place by two giant, rusted padlocks. They were no signs from the inside in response to them calling.

  When they reached the fourth lock-up, Tom pointed. It had rusty bars which were held in place with two brand new giant locks.

  Diane called to the rest of the team. ‘Bring the equipment! One of you run and tell Grant we’ve got something.’

  Tom’s heart started beating harder. Pressing his mouth close, he called out. ‘Emily and Lisa, I’m a police officer and I’m here to help you. Please signal if you’re inside. Tap on the walls.’

  There was silence. They toured the outside and did a double-check of the entrance area and it was there Tom spotted something bright in the grass. He bent close, being careful not to touch. It was a child’s pink hair elastic, the sort used to tie back a ponytail.

  Diane put on gloves and marked the spot. ‘We’ll get this photographed in situ.’ She glanced at Tom. ‘I say we go straight for a front entry. Do you agree?’

  She was double-checking with him because cutting the locks might destroy DNA or fingerprint evidence though it was their quickest way into the container.

  ‘Agreed. It’ll take way too long to torch through the side,’ he said. ‘If the children are trapped we don’t know what state they might be in. Besides, cutting the locks won’t necessarily destroy DNA.’

  Diane turned to the constables who were readying the cutting gear. ‘I want everyone double gloved to preserve what evidence we can. Now get this thing open.’

  ‘Looks like you could be spot on, Diane. Phone the station and get the forensics team here,’ Grant ordered.

  It took twenty long and tense minutes for them to get in. Grant could feel the tension mounting and he had to order everyone to step back. Something or nothing? A dead end or a thread he could unpick? Grant’s heart was thumping.

  When the door finally creaked open Grant could see the rear end of a dark blue estate car.

  ‘It’s the same registration as the getaway vehicle,’ he said.

  Meanwhile Tom had retrieved an evidence protection suit and coverings from the car and he had suited up.

  ‘In you go, Delaney, and I want you to call out a running commentary,’ Grant said.

  Tom went in. ‘The back doors of the car are open, boss. There’s blood on the back seat and in the footwell. I’m opening up the front driver’s door. I don’t see any blood in the driver’s seat nor in the front passenger area. Going around the back to open up the boot.’

  Grant held his breath.

  ‘Nothing. There’s no sign of the children.’

  ‘Shit,’ Grant said.

  ‘Checking the glove compartment now. Damn, it’s empty.’

  Grant swore under his breath. Any old receipts or papers would have been too much to hope for.

  ‘There are no obvious items in the rest of the area. I’m walking around the perimeter. There’s nothing here.’

  Tom came back outside and took off his mask. ‘It’s empty, guv.’

  The assembled group almost screamed in frustration and Tom was trying to force back his disappointment.

  ‘Look carefully,’ Grant said, nodding towards the open lock-up. ‘There’s space in there for a second vehicle. The way the first one is parked makes me think there was already another one in there when he drove in. You see the angle of the car? He manoeuvred it to get it in. He would only have done that if there was something else already inside. Otherwise he’d have driven straight in.’

  ‘Oh God, sir, you’re right,’ Diane said.

  ‘Stay focused, people. Finding the car is a break because it means we’re on the right track. Now forensics can get at it and all we need is one hair with a match on the database and we’ve got our key suspect.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ everyone chorused.

  ‘This becomes our second focus point. I want the public questioned with this lock-up as a new epicentre. Someone must have seen something and we’re relying on you to find it. Collins, take the constables and get a door-to-door started straight away.’

  Grant checked his watch. Emily and Lisa had been missing for over fourteen hours and they’d had no word from the kidnapper. Was it a kidnapping? Or were they dealing with something else? Grant’s stomach grumbled, reminding him he’d not eaten since mid-morning. It made him think of Emily and Lisa and how frightened they would be. Were they hungry? Were they dumped in the cold? Collins started to organise the constables. There was no question of anyone going home to rest, and anyway no one wanted to.

  Twenty minutes later, Grant had only just set foot in the police station when his phone pinged. It was DCS Fox summoning him.

  Fox hardly waited for him to get through her door.

  ‘I heard about your little escapade.’

  Ah, he thought, and she doesn’t sound pleased.

  ‘It was a calculated decision, ma’am. Based on the evidence from the surveillance cameras there was a high likelihood the abductor had used the lock-ups.’

  ‘A high likelihood? Is that what you call it and you didn’t think it important to run your splurge of precious time past me first?’

  Strictly speaking he wasn’t obliged to do that. Yet he judged it more diplomatic to stay silent.

  Fox was on a roll. ‘Six constables, specialised equipment and three detectives on site. Vital resources taken from the coal face and for what? A hair ribbon?’

  ‘It was a hair elastic, yes, and we found the getaway car. Forensics are–’

  ‘Forensics are doing their job.’ She spat the words out. ‘Which is a hell of a lot more than you seem to be doing. The kidnapper had been and gone, Grant, long gone and I’ve got ACC Treadgold and the Chief Constable breathing down my neck. They want results. I want results. I want those children found. The whole goddam nation is watching.’

  Well then, if she’d just let him get on with it instead of dragging him in here for a telling off. He stood to leave and her icy glare followed him to the door.

  ‘We’re fourteen hours in and we don’t have a key suspect? Is that all you’ve got for me? Quit trailing behind the perpetrator like a goddam lame dog.’

  That was a new one. Fox sure liked to roll out the insults. Grant hoped soon he’d be laughing about it. Except, right now, he didn’t feel so confident about that.

  15

  As I drive out of Himlands Heath I congratulate myself on a job well done. My plans have been cooking around my head for so long they’ve a stroke of genius in them. Now I can head down to the coast with a smile on my f
ace.

  The sun has come out and I whistle a little tune. I’ve always loved the Sussex countryside with the rolling South Downs and green fields and hedgerows. I missed it so much during my prison sentence. When I became a free man again, you wouldn’t believe it of a con like me but the sound of birdsong was enough to make me sentimental.

  I take my time going down to Brighton. Firstly, I make sure I stick to minor roads without much traffic. Then, I stop often in lay-bys and remote spots to pass an hour or so and listen to the radio. I’ve got all day to waste. On the motorway, the journey would take an hour but with this route and the method I’m using it will last most of the day. And that’s the idea.

  When one of the kids wants to pee I consider leaving them to do it in the van rather than take the risk of them being seen. There’s no one around, yet you can never be one hundred per cent certain, can you? Then again, is there DNA in piss? I don’t know and it might turn out to be a nuisance because I’d need to get the back cleaned and then what if a garage gets suspicious? I decide it’s better to let one of them out at a time. I find a quiet place and then the smaller one says she can’t do it unless she has the big sister with her.

  I have to stop myself from smacking her around the head.

  Half an hour later and we’re on our way again. No one saw us, I’m sure of it. I’ve never been so grateful for clusters of trees.

  The tricky bit will be getting the kids inside the house once I arrive. Which is why I need to transfer them at night-time because there’s far less chance of being spotted by a nosey parker when it’s dark. Hence my dawdling.

  On the outskirts of Brighton there’s a big park. I already sussed it out to see if the police have a habit of passing by, which they don’t, or if the various parking spots have attendants, which they haven’t. The park is packed at weekends and then deserted during the week, except for early morning when it’s full of dog walkers and joggers. I can’t stand sports fanatics – as far as I’m concerned they’re a bunch of losers. Anyway, weekday late afternoon is ideal for us to pass under the radar.