The Loyal Servant (35 page)

Tate flung open the first file and handed another to Caroline. Caroline laid the paperwork on the desk and continued to glance up at the monitors every few seconds.

‘Bloody hell.’ Tate waved a sheet of paper at her. ‘Freddie Larson’s blood test wasn’t for Hep C after all. These are DNA results requested by Valerie Larson.’ Tate shoved the sheet to one side.

Caroline blew out a breath and stared down at the uppermost piece of paper on the desk. It was a formal letter printed on expensive thick paper, from a pastor in Kentucky. She scanned the contents quickly and moved onto the sheet below. Both documents were letters of gratitude thanking Sir Fred for his generous donations to their ministries. She checked a third and a fourth, again both expressed enormous gratitude, both were sent from churches in America.

‘I think we may have found proof of Sir Fred’s creationist tendencies,’ she said. ‘We should definitely go now. We really do have enough.’

Tate didn’t respond. She was sitting on her haunches staring open-mouthed at a collection of black and white ten by eight inch photographs spread across the floor.

Caroline crouched down next to her.

‘What is it?’

Still Tate said nothing.

Caroline peered at the photos. She blinked and sucked in a breath. One of the pictures showed a naked man half submerged at the end of a large swimming pool, his mouth gaping. In another the same man lay stretched out on a towel or blanket by the side of the pool. A uniformed policeman was standing next to the body.

Caroline pointed towards the image. ‘Is that…?’

Tate nodded. ‘PC Barry Flowers.’ She slipped a photograph from a stack. ‘Look at this.’

The picture was taken from another angle, lower down. The stark white corpse was clearly visible in the foreground. Just behind the body, sitting on the edge of a sun-lounger, was a wide-eyed man. Next to him a woman gripped tightly onto his arm. Caroline peered more closely at the photograph.

‘Oh my God.’ She looked up at Tate, who nodded again. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said. Caroline sucked in a breath and let the photograph of a terrified Rachael Oakley and William King fall out of her hands.

48

Pete cheerily shouted goodbye to someone and eased the van through the yard gates. They drove along the bumpy track for five minutes before he said another word.

‘Are you all right back there?’

Tate answered for them both. ‘We’ll survive. Just stop as soon as it’s safe to let us out.’

They bounced down the road for another ten minutes before the van finally turned and came to a halt.

‘Bloody hell! I’ll have to stop somewhere else. Just sit tight.’

The engine started up again and Pete crunched the gear stick into reverse, backed up a few feet then stopped again.

Caroline heard him winding down his window. She eased out a breath and closed her eyes. As soon as she did the scenes captured in the black and white photographs crowded in on her.

‘Sorry, officer,’ Pete said. ‘Took a wrong turn. What’s going on?’

‘What have you got in the back?’

Caroline clenched her fists and held her breath.

‘Just some building gear.’

‘Working on a bank holiday?’

‘Actually I’m just on my way home – I’m running a bit late.’

An agonising few seconds of silence followed.

‘All right, sir. Move along.’

The van accelerated backwards, the engine complaining all the way. Pete swung back round and they were bouncing along the track again. Caroline finally released the breath she’d been holding.

‘What was all that about?’ Tate shouted after a few moments.

‘Field full of police vans – must have been a dozen of them – riot gear, the lot.’

‘In the middle of Essex?’ Tate turned to Caroline. ‘Maybe Jean’s little gang have got a demo organised and someone’s tipped off the police.’

Caroline shrugged.

After another ten minutes the van stopped again and Pete opened up the back.

Tate waited by the passenger door for Caroline to slide onto the seat next to Pete. She was clutching a thick pile of files close to her chest, another few were stuffed into the bag over her shoulder. Caroline stared at the bag.

‘Oh!’ She lifted a hand to her mouth. ‘I left my bag in the office.’

‘We can’t exactly go back for it,’ Tate said.

‘It had my purse inside – my house keys, my mobile.’ She pressed a hand against her pocket and lifted out a mobile phone. ‘The other phone, the one you gave me, was inside.’

‘Shirley knows Pete, she knows me. It’s not like we were anonymous in there. Leaving your bag’s not going to make any difference either way.’

The phone in Caroline’s hand started to ring.

‘Claire?’

There was silence the other end.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’

‘Gran’s gone.’

A cold wave of dread swept up Caroline’s back and across her shoulders.

‘What do you mean, love?’

‘She went out and she hasn’t come back.’

Thank God
. ‘Have you tried calling her?’

‘She’s not answering.’

‘Maybe she got stuck in a big queue at the supermarket.’

‘She didn’t go to the supermarket.’ Claire’s voice was barely audible. ‘She went out to look for Dan.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Dan’s gone too.’

‘Where did he go?’

‘He wouldn’t say. He got a text and then stormed off.’

‘From Kylie? She’s the only one with his new number.’

‘He’s still got his old phone.’

Caroline closed her eyes.
Oh Dan.
‘Think, Claire. Where would he have gone?’ She could hear her daughter breathing noisily into the phone.

‘I’m really worried. Gran was really in a mood this morning – she said she hadn’t slept all night, because she’d forgotten her tablets.’

‘Her tablets?’

‘Her sleeping pills.’

Caroline’s breath caught in her throat. ‘Forgotten them or lost them?’

‘She left them at home. Dan said he’d go back and get them for her – take the train. She told him not to worry about it, she said she’d have a glass of wine tonight instead.’

‘Do you think that’s where he’s gone – to get Gran’s pills?’

‘Are you at home now? I tried phoning but nobody answered.’

‘Your dad and me are on our way.’

‘You need to hurry. I think he might be… I don’t know.’

‘What is it, Claire?’

Pete glanced at her. He put a hand on her leg.

‘There’s stuff going on with him at the moment…’

‘Has something happened with Kylie?’

Claire was breathing noisily into the phone again. ‘I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. He told me he was going to sort it out on his own.’

‘The baby? Is she going to have the baby?’

‘Oh Mum! You didn’t really believe any of that, did you?’

Caroline put her hand over Pete’s and squeezed his fingers tight.

‘Dan and Kylie aren’t together. Not like that, anyway. He hangs around with her, but that’s just because he fancies her boyfriend.’

She must have misheard. ‘What was that?’

‘Dan’s gay.’

‘Of course he isn’t. How would I not know something like that?’

Caroline took a moment longer to process the information. ‘I’d be able to tell.’

‘Well you didn’t. And he is.’

Caroline squeezed Pete’s hand harder. She stared through the windscreen without really seeing anything. How could he be gay?

‘Mum? Are you still there?’

‘I can’t… I can’t take it in. If you’re right, why did Kylie say the baby—’

‘Because her boyfriend’s black and her dad’s the biggest racist ever. Kylie’s really scared of him.’

‘I’m not surprised she’s scared.’
I’d be bloody scared
. ‘Claire – do you know anything about the cuts and bruises Dan’s been picking up recently?’

Claire didn’t reply.

‘Claire?’

‘Sorry… I can’t…’ She let out a long sigh. ‘I promised not to say—’

‘He’s missing again, Claire – don’t you think you need to tell me everything you know?’

Claire sucked in a rattling breath.

‘Come on, Claire. You’re not betraying Dan. You’re helping him.’

‘He’s being bullied.’ Claire blurted out the words. ‘Online, mostly. And boys from his school are sending him gross photos on his mobile and calling him a paedo. Some of the girls too.’

‘Paedo?’

‘He went out with a boy in year nine last year. God – he was only a couple of months younger than Dan. I didn’t realise anyone was actually beating him up until yesterday.’

‘Beating him up?’

‘Oh God – he’s gonna go mad when he finds out I’ve told you.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘Dan made me swear not to.’

‘For God’s sake, Claire. Can’t you make your own decisions?’ Her voice was louder and harsher than she’d meant.

Pete looked at her again. ‘Do you want me to pull over?’ he said.

‘It’s not my fault – don’t shout at me.’ Claire sobbed.

‘I’m sorry. Listen – you’ve got to be honest with me now. Do you think Dan is going to do something… anything—’

‘He might… I don’t know.’ Claire sobbed again. ‘If he finds Gran’s pills…’

‘It’ll be all right, I promise. I’m going to call Dan now. I want you to dial 999 and tell the police about Dan and your gran. Can you do that?’

Claire sniffed. ‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure Dan’s headed back home?’

‘I think so.’

‘I want you to stay right where you are, in case Dan or your gran comes back. Just sit tight. OK?’

The line went quiet.

‘Claire? Are you still there?’

‘I thought I heard a noise.’

‘Is it Dan? Is he back?’

Claire let out a loud shriek.

‘Claire! What is it?’

‘A window smashed. I think someone’s trying to get in.’

She screamed again.

‘Call the police, Claire – right now!’

The line went dead.

‘Claire!’

‘What is it?’ Pete was indicating and slowing down.

‘Don’t stop!’ Caroline punched Dan’s number into her phone. It went straight to voicemail. ‘You’ve got to get to the chalet. I need to get home. Is there somewhere round here I can pick up a cab?’ She jabbed three nines into her phone.

‘The mainline station – we’re probably ten minutes away. What’s going on, Caz?’

‘Police.’ Caroline shouted into the phone. ‘Hello? An intruder is trying to attack my children. 14 Sheridan Court, Leysdown… What? I don’t know the fucking post code.’

The van lurched forward as Pete stamped on the accelerator.

‘No – I’m not calling from that address. For God’s sake – you’ve got to get someone out there right now. Thank you.’

She hung up and dialled again, this time telling another police dispatcher about Dan. Pete leaned over the steering wheel, as if he was willing the van to move faster.

‘We can’t get stopped for speeding,’ Tate said.

Caroline had almost forgotten the journalist was in the van with them. ‘She’s right – we don’t want to get pulled over. Stick to the limit.’

‘Fuck that.’ Pete checked his mirrors. ‘I know these roads. I’ll slow down when I have to.’

The Nokia ringtone chimed from inside Tate’s bag.

‘What the…? No one has that number except you,’ Tate said.

‘The mobile you gave me was in my bag… back in Larson’s office.’

Tate pulled the files from her bag and fished around inside. ‘I thought I’d switched it to silent.’ She stared at the screen then glanced at Caroline.

‘Answer it!’ Caroline urged.

‘Hello. Who is this?’

Caroline leaned her head towards Tate’s ear. There was silence at the other end. Then a clanking sound. A muffled voice started to speak.

‘I’m calling from er… what’s her name?’ A woman’s voice. ‘Mrs Barber’s phone. Who am I speaking to?’

‘I asked you first.’ Tate hit a button and held the mobile in front of her mouth. The hiss and crackle of heavy breathing rattled out of the phone’s tiny speaker.

‘I’m trying to contact Mrs Barber? Or her husband? He was a recent employee of ours.’

Caroline glanced at Pete who mouthed the word ‘Larson’.

‘They have some property of mine,’ Valerie Larson said.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Perhaps you could pass on a message?’

‘Sorry, I’ve never heard of them.’

‘Oh that’s a shame. You see, I really need to speak to one of them. Quite urgently.’

Caroline locked eyes with Tate.

Valerie Larson cleared her throat. ‘If you do happen to run into them, would tell them something for me?’

‘You’re wasting your time.’

‘Oh I doubt that.’

There was mumbling in the background. Caroline couldn’t make out what was being said.

‘If you see them, tell them their children say hello… Ben… and … Claire, is it?’

The line went dead.

Caroline snatched the phone from Tate and hit the re-dial button.

‘She’s bluffing,’ Tate said and clutched the files closer to her chest.

The call was answered before it even rang out.

‘Oh good – I have your attention now.’

‘Let me speak to my children.’

‘Mrs Barber? Bring those files back and I’ll consider your request.’

Caroline looked at Pete. ‘OK – we’re about 30 minutes away from you, less than that, maybe. We’ll bring all the files back. Just don’t hurt them – please.’

The line went dead again.

Tate hadn’t released her grip on the files.

‘We’ve got to get back there.’

‘She’s bluffing,’ Tate said again.

‘For God’s sake, Angela. I don’t fucking care. I’m not prepared to take that chance.’

‘But think of all the stuff we’ve found. We can finally get some justice for Martin. We can’t just give back the evidence.’

‘They have my children.’

‘We don’t know that.’

‘For fuck’s sake! I heard Claire screaming! Someone was breaking into the chalet.’

‘Please, Caroline, you’ve got to trust me. Valerie Larson would try anything to—’

Caroline ignored her. ‘How long before we get to the station?’ she asked Pete.

‘Five minutes.’

‘OK – drop me there first. You take the files back, then get to the chalet. Keep trying Claire’s phone. I’ll keep trying Dan’s.’

‘Where are you going?’ Tate had gathered up all the files in her arms and was clutching them even tighter.