The Message Read online

  “Is it significant?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Come in then.”

  “I’m being a total pest with forensics, but I’ve got a preliminary report on the little boy’s tablet. There are only two sets of prints on the screen, and none anywhere else. The little ones are probably his, because they are all the same. There are two bigger ones, one of them partial, but both are almost certainly from the same person. They aren’t from either of the parents. Nor do they match any in the database.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No sir, I called the hospital and Derek Wallace, the man who found the boy’s grandfather, was kept in for observation and he wants to speak with us. The doctor has agreed to it. Should I go and question him?”

  “No, bring him back here Martha, we can speak with him together.”

  “On it sir. Oh, I almost forgot the most important part. There’s a reasonably clean print on the shiny label of the scarf we found. Forensics are being cagey but think it may match the ones on the tablet screen.”

  “Well what are you waiting for? Get over to the hospital, but take care in this fog.”

  “I wasn’t finished, sir. They also picked a few tiny fibres off the open rear door of the victim’s car. It seems they’re from the same scarf. I’ve been told to wait for the full report. Ok, see you later.”

  *

  Olivia arrived shortly afterwards, looking a little older than her thirty-eight years. Prentice sent for some coffee.

  “So, Tom decided to go to London then?”

  “Well, he took a taxi to the airport, but he’s already called me twice to say he can’t get on the plane. I think I’ve finally persuaded him to go. I asked him what he’d achieved with respect to Kieron’s whereabouts since he got out of bed this morning. So, maybe he’s convinced himself. It does usually take people a while to adjust to his somersaults over almost every decision.”

  “Right, I’ll bear that in mind. I need to ask you a couple of questions before we start preparations for the TV appeal. Amongst all of your son’s fastidious habits, would he clean his computer tablet screen after every session?”

  “Absolutely, and he makes sure other people do as well. If, and that’s a big if, they are allowed to touch it in the first place. Why do you ask?”

  “We can talk about that later. Now, don’t get out of your pram over my next question. You must realise we have to be thorough. I called the landline Tom gave us and indeed it is a hospice, and his father is in and out of consciousness. I had to check this out, because if it hadn’t been as he claimed, I’d have put a tail on him in London. I will do everything I can to find Kieron, including coming between parents. You’d be surprised at how many missing kids are just about domestic squabbles. So, for completeness I have to ask if there is a strain in your relationship. The body language between the two of you isn’t convincing. Well?”

  “You don’t mince words do you? Tom and I get on most of the time, but we may split up. My work has become an issue, and I know this may sound strange but custody won’t be allowed to become a problem. I can assure you of that. As I said earlier, tomorrow can be a completely different day for Tom. I sometimes think that some of Kieron’s problems are easier to handle than his father’s.”

  “Good, now, can you think of anyone connected with your work who would wish you, your husband, or your son any harm?”

  “In what way?”

  “Jealous colleagues, staff who feel bullied, an affair, anything. I have to understand why your father was lured to your hospital. Kieron is one possible reason, but may not have been expected to be there. What I’m getting at is that, if someone wanted to harm Peter, the hospital car park doesn’t make any sense. Perhaps your reputation is the target, if not your person. Please think carefully about this because it’s important to eliminate motives as well as prints, DNA, and opportunity. Right, let’s get to the appeal, are you going to be ok in front of the cameras?”

  “Yes, unless you want me to be hopelessly fragile.”

  *

  DI Jones was stonking mad that Martha had hijacked preliminary results on the tablet. He wasn’t going to trust her any more. He wasn’t gathering enough data to keep him busy filling up the various files DCI Prentice had delegated to him. He was just being used as a clerk, not even a junior detective. He searched through his notes to see if Martha had forgotten anything, and hit on one item. He contacted the phone company without much enthusiasm, but that all changed when he was informed that DC Hall had already been given that information. He insisted on having the number confirmed, and almost fell off his chair when he was told where the call had originated. He’d been nurtured on working to a system which was rigidly enforced by his previous boss. He wasn’t going to fold, even though he realised that this particular force was much more challenging than his former employ. He needed an attitude makeover.

  *

  Gladstone arrived to the news that Peter Radford’s condition had worsened. The surgeon had elected to operate because of excess fluid, and a dangerous swelling of the brain. The risk was quantifiable because unless the swelling was relieved, massive brain damage would result, and odds of survival would become unfavourable. From prior experience, he wasn’t hopeful. He wanted to prepare Olivia, but wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. The next forty-eight hours would decide the fate of her father. The other outcome could be dependency on life support equipment. He would have an in-depth session with the surgeon as soon as possible.

  *

  Olivia made a quick call to her Mum. Pauline had forgotten that Peter was supposed to be staying over, but did remember that her daughter was coming to see her today. She was informed that it would be later than expected, perhaps even early evening. “Oh,” Pauline replied, “well who will make my lunch? Your Dad makes my lunch.”

  “Mrs Robertson said she would pop in and have a chat. Ask her if she can make you a sandwich. I’ll call you again before I set off.”

  “Ok darling, will you make your Dad’s lunch?”

  “Yes Mum, don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him until he’s feeling better. By the way, are you managing to shake off the flu?”

  “Have I had the flu? I don’t think so, I’m going to watch the TV, goodbye then.”

  Olivia didn’t really want to hear that her Mum was going to watch the television. There was at least a small chance she would hear something about either Peter or Kieron. She had told Mrs Robertson not to give her mother a newspaper.

  *

  Tom called both Olivia and Prentice, unaware that the construction of the TV appeal had already started, and mobiles had to be switched off. He left a text for his wife. ‘Hi, when you read this you’ll know that I’m in London. The fog delayed take off, and I changed my mind about this so many times. Michael picked me up and I’m bracing myself to see Dad. If there’s anything, anything at all, you can tell me about little precious, call at any time, please call sometime even if there’s no developments, I need to know. Michael doesn’t think Ernie will regain consciousness. Strange isn’t it? I always called him Ernie when I was living down here. I don’t know if I can bear it if he doesn’t open his eyes. Fingers crossed.’

  *

  Jones was waiting for Prentice when the appeal had been finalised. At first he was waved away, because there was a brief news conference lined up. “Later Jonesy.”

  “You will want to hear this boss. It’s about the phone call which took Peter Radford to the hospital.”

  “I thought Martha was chasing that.”

  “She was, but since I’d blasted through organising those files you asked me to set up, and they’re now bang up to date, I chased it up myself. And anyway, she’d gone off to the hospital for some reason, so what the hell, it’s done. I probably took care of it because I thought it was a very important piece of this jigsaw. So, back to the point, it was made from a call box on Hamsterley Mill estate, just around the corner from the house.”

  “Jesus. That doe
s change everything. Well done Jonesy. Go to the house and make a copy of that call. I want to hear it again.”

  Chapter 7

  Prentice paced around his desk, the office blinds were closed. He preferred to enact stuff without an audience. Jones was back with a copy of the message which had convinced Peter to rush off to the hospital without really thinking about it. That was important, thought Prentice. Martha was back with Derek Wallace. What would he have to say? The TV appeal was ready, and hanging in his mind in view of recent information. Olivia had gone to pick up her Mother. It didn’t seem likely that Tom would come back tonight.

  Prentice wanted all of the existing picture to be vivid in his mind before allowing more to come over the dam. Suddenly he opened the blinds and invited Wallace to enter. “Thank you for coming Mr Wallace, please take a seat, I’ll be with you right away.”

  He pulled the door shut and spoke to his two subordinates in little more than a whisper. “Martha, I did tell you to bring Wallace here for questioning. I also said you shouldn’t talk about the case details with him until he was here. Did you manage to do what I asked you this time?”

  “Yes sir, well I didn’t ask him any direct quest…questions, but he started ram…bling, rambling on about how much of a sh..shock it was for him and…”

  “Stop. In that case, say nothing when we interview him now. Just make comprehensive notes. You do the same Jonesy, leave all the talking to me to start with, and when I’m done, you can have a turn. Understood?”

  They were both perplexed but nodded as if this was normal. They entered the office and asked if Wallace would like a drink. He declined.

  “Well now, it’s Derek isn’t it? Is it ok if I call you Derek?”

  “Aye, of course.”

  “Right then Derek, I’m really sorry you had to go through this awful experience, but you know you probably saved Peter Radford’s life when you called to inform the hospital so quickly. Tell me, what had you been to the hospital for?”

  “Wey, I’ve gotta bad heart you see, and I have to get check-ups like. It’s a bother ‘cos I never get seen on time. It’s enough to give anybody a flippin’ heart attack just sittin’ there for ages.”

  “I can imagine. How old are you Derek?”

  “Just turned seventy-two. Last week it was.”

  “Wow, and you drive your own car?”

  “Oh aye, mind me eyes get checked every year, else I would pack it in.”

  “So, were you parked right next to the victim’s car?”

  “No, about three or four places away from him. But there wasn’t any cars between mine and his. At first I thought he was just checkin’ his tyres or exhaust, or lookin’ for a leak. I noticed the back door was open, as well as the front one. I shouted to ask if he needed any help like, but when there wasn’t an answer, and he didn’t even move, I went a bit closer, you know, and he still hadn’t moved. When I bent over him I could see his eyes were shut tight. I was in a panic. It was lucky that this other bloke must’ve seen him as well, cos it was him that calmed me down like. He said we should phone the hospital reception, but he didn’t have a phone with him, it was in his car at the other side of the car park. Wey I’ve got a phone, so I can tell the wife if I’m going to be late or somethin’s wrong, like me tests are bad. I didn’t know the reception number, but this bloke said he could remember it. So I rang the number and told them about this poor man who seemed to have collapsed, and they said somebody would get there as quick as they could. Mind, I’ve already told the hospital folk that I didn’t know this other fella, and anyway when I finished tellin’ the reception and turned around, both him, and his little lad were gone. I couldn’t believe he would just scarper like that mind. It was great that the stretcher blokes came as quick as they did, cos the poor man had started twitchin’. I got the fright of me life. The doctor made me take some tablets to calm me nerves. They kept me in for the night, and the wife was nearly past herself.”

  Prentice observed the eye-rolling of Jones and Martha, then he quietly said, “Would you know this man again Derek?”

  “Oh aye, he was a big-un, a bit heavy, and baldy like, and he had one of them stupid earrings, why do blokes wear them? Especially with such a big hooter.”

  “What about the boy?”

  “Lovely bairn mind. Never said a word. His dad had him well-behaved. Bonny little face as well.”

  Prentice opened a desk drawer, took out the TV appeal file and picked up the photo Olivia gave him of Kieron. “Could this be him?”

  “That’s him! Wey aye, that’s definitely the laddie. How come you’ve got his picture?”

  “Well now Derek, you know the police have to keep some things close to their chest. I can only tell you that his mother gave it to me. But I’m sure we’ll have to speak with you again, so please give your details to Martha here, and I’ll arrange for a car to take you home. I bet your wife will be glad to see you.”

  “Aye, but she’ll be on the warpath, she had to sleep on her own last night, so you can be sure I’ll get the blame.”

  Derek Wallace trailed out of the police station to the waiting car and had no idea of the import of his testimony. That wasn’t quite the same situation for DI Jones and DC Hall. The office blinds came down again.

  Prentice didn’t have to spell it out. “I’ll leave the recriminations for now, because we’ve got a bloody great conundrum to solve, an immediate decision to make, and a hypothesis to test out. The appeal is the tricky one, and time is running out for a change of plan, and if that’s what’s needed, we have to shape plan B on the hoof. The conundrum rests on the accuracy of the testimony from an elderly heart patient, and perhaps more importantly, it’s implications to match up with the message, which we know for a fact was made from near the house. If we accept that it can match up, either the man with the boy at the scene is the same one who delivered the message, or there is more than one person involved in the snatch. Either way, the hypothesis which looms ahead now concerns the motive. I know it’s early, but so far we haven’t had any kind of ransom demand. Perhaps that will come, but the man Wallace described would seem to be a very cool character, to risk Kieron kicking up a fuss, and to hang around the crime scene. Ideas, let’s have it, shout up.”

  As usual, Martha grabbed an opportunity to impress, or make a fool of herself. “One person could fit. We know it was a man who said Olivia was in hospital, Tom could have made the call. He had apparently arranged a lift to the football game with this cousin, but cancelled it, to take a taxi. He had time to make the call and still get to the football. It would also explain why Kieron wasn’t freaked out, you know, if he was with his father after Peter was struck. It could have looked like a game to him.”

  Jones shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Ok,” said Prentice, “tell her Jonesy.”

  “Wallace said the guy was bald. Was Tom wearing a swimming cap or something? Ridiculous.”

  “We’re just throwing ideas around,” teased Prentice, “we’ll keep Tom in mind, there could be more than one person involved, remember? Let’s have your input DI Jones.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “I don’t think it is so difficult to believe that Kieron wouldn’t kick up a fuss in this situation. It’s a crowd that freaks him out, or so we’re told. He wouldn’t necessarily know his grandfather had been attacked if he was totally focussed on his tablet. It doesn’t sit right with me that this bald guy just conveniently knew the hospital reception number either. Wallace coming along when he did was unplanned, but useful, and I don’t believe he didn’t have a phone with him.”

  “I tend to agree,” said Prentice. “But we have just shown how easy it is to mix facts with supposition. And you’re a facts man Jonesy. Let’s nail the facts to the chart and keep an open mind about the maybes. Now we need to move on. The appeal is set to omit the insinuation that Kieron was taken, it is structured to maintain hope that he’s just lost. Do we have to pull it, in view of what we now know, or what we believe we
know? Or do we let the written press update the status of Kieron later?”

  Martha and Jones looked at each other. Prentice told Jones to go first. Martha was visibly relieved. Jones cleared his throat. “I’d let it go ahead as it is, sir. We can’t risk losing any more time now that we think the boy has been taken. We can’t be certain Wallace’s input is accurate. He’s had quite some time to think about it. He didn’t even hesitate in remembering a bald man and then just as quickly he recognised Kieron from a photo, having already admitted he was in total shock.”

  “Martha?” asked Prentice.

  “I agree with DI Jones, sir.”

  “Good, then we’re all of the same opinion. There is another reason to let it go ahead though. We’ll get much more public interest in keeping an eye out, or searching for Kieron if he’s missing. If we say he’s been taken, a lot of people will take that sad news to mean it’s only the responsibility of the police to find him. And they will just go back to their Christmas shopping.”

  As Prentice ushered them out of his office, he asked Jones to get Olivia to call him. “I need to speak with Tom, and she needs to be here.”

  Jones told Martha to bring two coffees to his own office. When she arrived he was doodling on his notepad. “Martha, if you stop fluttering your eyelashes at the boss, your brain might just engage often enough to put your mouth in neutral. I’ve cut you some slack recently. I didn’t smack you down when you rushed to Prentice with the forensic prelim stuff, which I’d been delegated, and you didn’t even run it past me first. From now, you tell me everything first, do you understand? That’s the only way it is going to work.”

  “Yes sir, I just…”

  “I know, but now we have an abduction on our hands, and that kid’s life comes before your career or mine. Heed this warning or I’ll ask Prentice to take you off the case.”