The Loyal Servant (15 page)

19

Caroline closed the door on an indignant admin assistant she’d just interviewed for the second time about the missing CD-ROM and hurried back to her desk. She found Pam poking through the cardboard box sitting on the desk next to hers.

‘Why did Tracy bring all this rubbish back into the office?’ Pam said. ‘She should have had a proper clearout.’

‘Maybe it’s not rubbish.’ Caroline pushed the box away from Pam’s prying fingers. ‘It’s Tracy’s stuff – nothing to do with either of us.’

‘She might have tidied it away somewhere. It’s an eyesore.’

‘It’s not in anyone’s way.’

‘Even so…’

‘What do you want, Pam?’

Pam lowered herself onto the edge of Caroline’s desk, the hardboard laminate bowing slightly in the middle. ‘Jeremy told me he caught you at your desk last night.’

‘Caught me?’ Caroline felt a band of heat tighten across her chest.

‘There you were, large as life he said – after I’d promised him I’d make you leave on time.’

Caroline glanced towards her boss’s room and wondered again just how much Prior had seen. He was pacing up and down, gesticulating, a mobile phone attached to his ear. From the expression on his face, it looked like some poor soul was on the receiving end of a bollocking.

‘I told him not to blame you,’ Caroline said. ‘What did he say?’

‘Oh I’m not in trouble or anything. But he’s told me not to let it happen again – I’ve got to keep an even closer eye on you, he said.’

Did he
?

‘Tell Prior he doesn’t need to waste his time worrying about me.’ She managed to force a smile. ‘I’m always better when I’ve got lots of work to focus on.’

‘You’re sure?’

Caroline nodded vigorously.

‘In that case…’ Pam got up and smiled slyly at Caroline. ‘You can take my place at the workshop session. It’s bound to overrun, they always do, and I need to leave early.’

‘Workshop?’ Caroline was only half-listening, her attention drawn back to Prior jabbing an angry finger in the air.

‘It starts in about half an hour.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘Didn’t you read the email?’

‘Remind me.’ Caroline continued to watch Prior working himself into a fury. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about the previous evening, but she felt like it was hanging over her, about to fall from a great height.

‘It’s for the new website,’ Pam said. ‘The schools workforce website. They’ve been banging on about the thing for ages. They want our input. Half the team’s in with the techies now –
workshopping
.’ She made speech marks in the air and pulled a face.

‘What’s wrong with the old website?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s not user-friendly enough, or something.’

‘Why would anyone be interested in my opinion?’

‘We’re stakeholders, Caroline. Our opinions count. You really didn’t read the email, did you?’

‘I’ve got better things to do.’ She grabbed a file from her in tray.

‘But you will go in my place?’

‘Are you asking me or telling me?’

‘Please, Caroline.’

‘OK – if it’s that important. Do you want me to pass on anything – any
input
?’

‘Tell them I’d really like a blue one.’

Caroline exhaled as Pam finally went back to her own desk. Prior was still on his feet and pulling open his door. He stopped at his PA’s desk and Lisa quickly stood up. She followed her boss down the office and disappeared with him into the lobby. Caroline couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Lisa was permanently in the firing line. She glanced back at Prior’s room, the door swinging wide. The phone on his desk started to flash. After half a dozen rings the call redirected to the phone on Lisa’s desk. There was no one at that end of the office; no doubt they were in with the web developers providing their own ‘input’. Caroline punched in the pick-up code on her phone.

‘Academies, Jeremy Prior’s phone.’

There was a pause the other end.

‘Oh – hello, I was just about to hang up.’

The voice was familiar but she couldn’t quite place it.

‘I was after the man himself – is he there?’

‘Would you like to leave a message?’

‘I’m not sure it’d make much sense. Just tell him Greg from IT phoned. He can get me on extension 4-3-2-4. Tell him it’s about the ticket raised this morning. Tell him it’s urgent.’

‘What’s it concerning?’

Caroline grabbed a notebook and pen. She wrote her boss’s name at the top of the page and underlined it.

‘It’s a bit sensitive. I need to talk to the boss – no offence.’

Sensitive
?

‘None taken – but you said it was urgent. Maybe I can help? Speed things up a bit?’
Find out what Prior is up to
.

There was another long pause.

‘Who am I speaking to?’ he said eventually.

Caroline glanced back at Lisa’s empty desk. ‘This is Lisa, Jeremy’s PA.’ She bit her lip. The words were out before she could stop them. She heard Greg let out a noisy breath.

‘Actually, Greg, I put in that ticket request for Jeremy myself.’ She grimaced.

‘Right… OK… Tell your boss he needs to be a bit more specific. We’re drowning in data here. Ideally, before he phones back he should prepare a list of specific terminals to monitor. The fewer the better. As it is we’re recording activity on the whole floor – I’m not being funny, but it is a bit OTT.’

Recording activity
?

‘Between you and me, Greg, Jeremy can be a bit like that sometimes.’ Her heart had started racing. ‘Demands the impossible and wants it by yesterday lunchtime.’

‘Yeah? I had a boss like that once.’

‘Anything else I should ask him to prepare before he calls? Do you have a best practice procedure? An implementation strategy?’ She could hear herself sounding just like a jargon-filled Powerpoint presentation.

‘A list of keywords or phrases that trigger the monitoring would be handy – then we can lose the 24-hour surveillance.’

Caroline lifted a hand to her face.

‘Got that.’ She swallowed. ‘As soon as he’s back at his desk, I’ll help him draw up a list and get back to you ASAP.’

‘Sweet. Cheers, Lisa.’ Greg hung up.

Caroline put the phone down, ripped the page from her pad and threw it in the recycling bin at the end of her desk. Then she sat very still and tried to control the queasy motion roiling in her stomach. She went through everything Greg had just told her. If Prior had requested the monitoring of every computer in the academies division, surely that meant he didn’t specifically suspect her of anything? She glanced over at Pam, who was concentrating on dunking a custard cream into her mug. Monitoring Pam’s PC activity wouldn’t have yielded much data. A shudder crossed Caroline’s shoulders as she remembered again the way Prior had been staring at her the previous evening. She shuddered again when the unfamiliar ringtone of the mobile phone Tate had given her blared out from her bag. She grabbed the phone and hit the ‘call end’ button. The last thing she wanted to hear was Tate nagging at her for the honours nomination files. It was too late now. She wouldn’t be going anywhere near them.

Caroline retrieved the memory stick from her bag and slipped it into a pocket, suddenly feeling the need to keep it close. She checked left and right, just to be sure no one was watching. She was starting to feel as if she was under permanent scrutiny. She glanced up at Pam again, who just at that moment was looking in her direction. Keeping an even closer eye on her, as per Prior’s instructions. Had Pam been poking through Tracy’s stuff because Prior had asked her to? Caroline looked at the cardboard box she’d pushed into the corner of Tracy’s desk. It did look like a lot of rubbish. She exhaled slowly, but the more she tried to relax the more she felt Pam’s eyes boring into her. When she turned around she saw Pam buttoning up her coat. She gave Caroline a little wave and dragged her bag over her shoulder. Caroline watched her leave the office.

God she was getting paranoid
. What was next? Suspecting her phone was being tapped? She lifted the receiver and listened to the dialling tone. She wasn’t sure what she expected to hear. She put the handset back down and puffed out a breath.
Don’t be so ridiculous
.

She got up and leaned on the back of her chair, stretching some of the tension out of her legs. She circled her head, one way then the other, then rolled her shoulders and shook her hands. She felt too twitchy to sit down. She wandered over to Tracy’s desk and peered inside the cardboard box, wondering what Pam had found so interesting. A pen pot was sticking out of the top, crammed full of standard issue Bic biros with chewed lids and a set of Prêt plastic cutlery. Maybe Pam was right – Tracy probably should have had a clearout. A Post-It note was stuck on the side of the pen pot, thick marker pen scrawled across it. Caroline turned her head to make out the words. Tracy had written
IMPORTANT
at the very top and underlined it three times. She scanned the other two lines. Completely flouting departmental security guidelines, Tracy had stupidly written her username and password on the Post-It. Prior would have a fit if he saw it. Caroline peeled off the yellow square and looked for somewhere in the box to conceal it. She was staring down at Tracy’s login details as the pay-as-you-go mobile rang again.

Bugger off Tate
!
Get someone else to do your dirty work.

She blinked and gazed more intently at the words on the Post-It. She glanced at Tracy’s computer then back down at the username and password – login details that couldn’t be traced back to her. She couldn’t do it… could she? At that moment the mobile phone chirruped in her bag as if Tate was answering her question.

Before allowing herself to think too deeply about the possible ramifications, Caroline reached over to Tracy’s computer and turned it on. After a few moments the login box appeared. She quickly typed in the username and password from the Post-It note and hit enter.

Sorry Tracy
.

20

Caroline stood at the living room window, watching for any sign of movement from the street beyond the front garden. Apart from the odd piece of litter getting caught in the wind, nothing stirred.

For the past three hours a combination of tiredness and worry had created some kind of wave machine in her stomach. Every now and then the foamy tip of a breaker reached as far as her mouth and left a bitter taste at the back of her tongue.

All afternoon she’d been fretting over logging into Tracy’s computer, worrying what would happen when the information got back to Prior. But everything looked different now. Right now she’d gladly make a gushing confession to her boss and whoever else might listen to her. Anything to have Dan walk through the front door.

Pete had given up waiting and gone to bed just after 1am, trying to persuade her to join him. She’d stood in the hall and watched him trudge up the stairs, wondering how it was possible for him to even contemplate sleep.

When Dan hadn’t returned home by 11pm, Caroline phoned his mobile and was diverted straight to voicemail. She’d been getting the same response at ten minute intervals ever since. She checked the clock on the wall above the mantelpiece again – 2:04am. She’d promised herself hours ago that if he hadn’t returned by 2pm she’d call the police. She pulled the phone from her pocket, hit the call button and stared at the illuminated yellow screen. She tapped in the first nine and heard the thud of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The living room door opened.

‘Come to bed, love.’ Pete padded over to her. He must have pulled on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt in the dark – both were inside out. He held out his hand for the phone. ‘Come on – I can’t sleep without you beside me.’

‘You can’t sleep because your 14-year-old son is out on the streets somewhere.’ She punched in the second nine.

‘Please, Caz – give me the phone. You can bet your life as soon as you call the police he’ll come home.’

‘All the more reason to call them then.’

Pete snatched the phone from her shaking hand. ‘Dan won’t thank you for it – not when he turns up to a house full of uniforms. He’ll be mortified.’

‘For God’s sake, Pete. Grow up! He’s not some gangster trying to impress his homies.’ She reached for the phone, Pete shoved it behind his back. ‘He’s a 14-year-old computer geek, with nerdy friends. They wouldn’t even know where to go at this time of night.’

‘He’s probably just got carried away playing on one of his video games at his mate’s house and lost track of the time.’

‘We’ve called all his friends, Pete.’

‘Maybe he’s with someone we don’t know.’

‘And you think that’s going to reassure me?’ She ducked around his back for the phone. He pulled it away from her.

‘He’s not a baby, Caz. You’ve got to let him grow up.’

‘He’s got no street sense. What if he’s caught up in some trouble on one of the estates?’

‘He’s got enough sense to steer well clear of anything like that. He’s a bright lad.’

‘He’s 14.’

‘He’ll be fine.’

‘How can you carry on saying that? It’s the early hours of the morning – obviously he’s not fine. Or he’d be right here.’ She blew out an uneven breath. ‘I hate to break it to you, Pete. But sometimes things aren’t
fine
. I know you like to think everything will work out for the best.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘But sometimes things are fucking diabolical.’

Pete snorted and muttered something under his breath.

There was a clank from the back of the room. Caroline turned to see the door leading to Jean’s annexe swing open. Her mother stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, clutching a hot water bottle. ‘I take it there’s been no news?’

‘Go back to bed, Mum. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.’ She walked towards her and stretched out a hand. ‘Give me that bottle – I’ll put the kettle on and bring it in to you.’

‘I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.’ Jean leaned her weight against the doorframe to steady herself.

‘You only got home this afternoon. You shouldn’t even be out of bed.’

‘Right now I’ve got a military tattoo being performed in my head. I can be kept awake by marching bands just as easily sitting on the sofa with some company as lying on my own in the dark.’

Caroline hooked an arm under her mother’s and led her to the sofa.

‘Have you called the police yet?’ Jean said.

Caroline looked at Pete, who was still hanging on to the phone. ‘I’m just about to.’ She helped her mother sit down, pushed past Pete and grabbed her bag from the hall table. She pulled out her mobile and the business card Ralph Mills had given her at Martin Fox’s funeral.

The police didn’t arrive for another five hours. When the doorbell finally rang, Caroline flew into the hall and dragged open the front door. Two uniformed policewomen, one tall and thin, the other squat and sturdy, stood on the garden path looking up at the first floor windows.

‘What kept you?’ Caroline said.

‘Sorry, madam. Er… Mrs…?’ the thin one said.

Caroline left the door open and walked wearily back to the living room. ‘Come in if you’re coming – and shut the door behind you.’

‘We got to you just as soon as we could, Mrs…’ the sturdy one added.

‘Not a priority – is that it?’

The policewomen looked at one another but didn’t answer.

‘For God’s sake sit down.’

The thin one perched next to Jean on the sofa. ‘I’m Constable Jane Fellows and this is Constable Jane O’Brien.’ She gestured to her colleague, who was busy dragging one of the dining chairs to the far end of the sofa.

‘Two Janes?’ Jean said. ‘Doesn’t that get confusing?’

‘Not really, madam.’ The thin one, Fellows, unhooked a notebook and pen from a pocket. ‘And you are?’

‘I think we’ve gone past the stage of formal introductions, don’t you?’ Caroline let out a breath and tried to keep her anger under control by digging her nails into the soft pads of flesh below her thumbs.

‘Why don’t you sit down, Mrs…’

‘Barber! For Christ’s sake. Is it so difficult to remember my name?’ Caroline stood her ground. ‘What’s being done to find my son?’

‘Please, madam. If you would just sit down. Then we can make a start.’ O’Brien, the fatter one, reached up a hand and lightly touched Caroline on the arm.

‘Make a start? What does that mean? Don’t tell me you haven’t even started looking? I gave all the details to the man I spoke to on the phone, hours ago. Why do you need to hear them again?’

The policewomen exchanged a glance.

‘This isn’t happening,’ Caroline said.

Jean eased herself from the sofa. ‘Why don’t I make us all a nice cup of tea?’

‘For God’s sake, Mum! Putting the kettle on doesn’t actually make everything better.’

Jean ignored her. ‘Milk?’ The officers nodded. Jean looked at the sturdy Jane. ‘I’ll bring the sugar bowl in – you can help yourself.’

The front door squealed open and shut again. Caroline rushed back into the hall. Pete was pulling off his jacket.

‘Why have you come back?’

‘I’m exhausted, Caz. I could barely keep my eyes open when I set off. I’ve looked everywhere I can think of.’ He opened his arms. ‘Come here, Babe, let me hold you for a second.’

Caroline shook her head. ‘The police have arrived.’

Pete dropped his arms to his sides and clenched his fists. ‘That’s progress at least.’

‘I’m not so sure.’

Pete followed her back into the living room and they went through the painful process of repeating all the information Caroline had already given over the phone.

‘Do you have a recent photo of your son?’ Fellows finally asked.

‘His name’s Dan.’

The police officer looked down at her notebook and let out a barely suppressed sigh.

‘I’m sorry – is it all a bit too tedious for you – remembering his name?’

‘Come on, Caz, they’re only doing their job.’ Pete smiled at them.

‘Some support from you wouldn’t go amiss,’ Caroline snapped back at him.

The policewomen exchanged another glance.

‘Has Dan ever stayed out before without letting you know where he was going?’ O’Brien had turned to face Pete.

‘Never,’ Caroline said. ‘You can speak directly to me – I am his mother.’

There was a scratching at the living room door.

‘Who let the dog out of the kitchen?’ Caroline opened the door and discovered Ben standing in the hall, Minty by his side.

‘What’s going on?’ he said, his eyes just starting to water.

‘It’s all right, baby. Why don’t you go and see Gran in the kitchen. I think she might be making pancakes.’

‘I’m not hungry. Where’s Dan?’

Jean appeared at the kitchen door, her face greyer than it had been in the hospital.

‘God, Mum – you look awful. Go back to bed.’

Jean held out her hand. ‘Come on Ben – let’s get some breakfast for Minty.’

Caroline coaxed him into the kitchen and shut the door. She went back into the living room and found Pete and the two policewomen standing over the dining table leafing through a family photograph album.

‘I’m sure there’s a recent one of him somewhere,’ Pete said.

The blanket of tiredness that Caroline had been wrestling with all night suddenly seemed to engulf her. She sagged against the side of the sofa. The shrill ringtone of the pink pay-as-you-go mobile trilled from her bag on the sideboard. Pete and the two constables all turned and looked at her expectantly.

‘Do you want me to get it, love?’ Pete said.

Caroline didn’t reply. The last person in the world she wanted to speak to right now was Angela Tate. Pete ran to her bag.

‘Leave it!’ she shouted at him.

‘Don’t you think—’

‘It’s a work phone – Dan doesn’t have the number.’

Pete’s hand hovered over the open handbag.

‘Just leave it, Pete.’

The ringing finally stopped, to be replaced by violent banging on the front door.

‘Thank God!’ Pete ran into the hall as the last trace of strength Caroline had been clinging onto finally ebbed away. She knew before Pete reached the door that it wouldn’t be Dan. Dan wouldn’t loudly announce his return. If he’d forgotten his key he’d be mewling apologetically through the letterbox, too embarrassed to draw attention to himself. She heard the door creak open. Then a huge roar.

‘Where is he?’ An unfamiliar male voice bellowed down the hall. ‘Let me get my hands on him – the filthy bastard!’

A spike of adrenalin propelled Caroline forward into the hall. Pete was squaring up to a ruddy-faced man who already had one foot over the threshold. A string-thin teenage girl was cowering behind him.