Seven Days Page 25

  He flicked through a few pages, then put it back on the table. He got to his feet and walked to the window. It looked over the car park. He searched for his red Audi. An S4. Fast. Expensive, but not too flash. Great engineering. A good use of the money he had.

  Nothing other than a bauble. It meant nothing to him at all.

  He wanted Sandra to be OK. That was all he asked.

  Maggie was gone, he was resigned to that now. He had been for a while. James – well, James was alive, at least. Not doing well, but not getting worse. It was time to sort that out. Whatever happened with Sandra he was going to bring James home. He wasn’t going to lose all of them.

  He’d tried, over the years, not to feel sorry for himself, he really had. After all, he had plenty going for him. Good health, plenty of money, a wife he adored. Yes, James was a worry, and of course there was Maggie, but he still had his blessings.

  Now, though, he wondered whether a bit of self-pity wasn’t in order.

  He took a deep breath. It wasn’t time for that yet. She might be fine; Maggie might come home James might get well.

  Yeah, right.

  But for now he needed to focus on Sandra.

  He walked back to his seat. The receptionist smiled at him.

  ‘She won’t be long, love,’ she said.

  Martin sat down. He felt sick.

  Wynne

  DI Wynne held her hand on the horn. The light was red and she didn’t see any other cars approaching but if you were going to ignore a red light it was worth letting people know.

  There were squad cars on the way, but she was not waiting for them. There was no time to waste.

  A woman’s voice on Best’s phone, saying the name Maggie Cooper. There were possibly other explanations, but Wynne could only think of one.

  Best had been holding Maggie Cooper captive and she had somehow escaped. The fact the call had been cut short meant Best knew she was out and had stopped her cry for help, and that meant Wynne had to get there as soon as possible.

  The speedometer was a few clicks shy of ninety miles per hour when she went through the light. Next to her DS Chan was gripping the sides of his seat.

  ‘How much further?’ he said.

  ‘Two minutes,’ Wynne replied.

  Almost exactly two minutes later she braked to a stop outside Best’s house. A house she knew well. There was no car outside, although the garage door was closed, so it could be in there.

  She ran to the front door and rang the doorbell. There was no answer.

  ‘Best!’ she shouted. ‘Open the door!’ She turned to DS Chan. ‘Ready?’

  He looked at her. ‘Are you sure we should do this?’

  ‘Now,’ she said, and raised her foot, sole facing the door.

  Chan lifted his and they kicked the door. It juddered, and they kicked it again. The lock gave and it banged open.

  Wynne ran inside. The house was quiet; she checked the living room and dining room. Nothing.

  ‘You check the kitchen,’ she said. ‘I’ll look upstairs.’

  She was in the bathroom when she heard DS Chan calling her name. When she reached the kitchen he wasn’t there.

  ‘DS Chan?’

  ‘In the garage,’ he called.

  She walked through a white door. DS Chan was standing in the middle of the garage, looking down at a set of steps.

  ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘This is the place. But there’s no one here.’

  Martin

  Martin’s phone rang. He frowned.

  It was DI Wynne.

  He hadn’t heard from her in a long time. He let it ring to voicemail. He didn’t want to deal with her at the moment. He’d call her later.

  The phone rang again. Wynne, again.

  It must be important.

  After all these years, it must be Maggie.

  He put it to his ear.

  ‘Mr Cooper? This is DI Wynne. I worked—’

  ‘I know,’ Martin said. ‘I’m a bit tied up. How can I help?’

  ‘I have some news,’ DI Wynne said. She sounded nervous. ‘There’s been a development in your daughter’s case.’

  Martin sat up. ‘What? What kind of development?’

  ‘Your daughter – Maggie – was imprisoned,’ Wynne said. ‘She was held captive.’

  ‘Captive? How do you know?’

  A nurse opened the door to the waiting room. ‘Mr Cooper?’ she said. ‘Your wife is out. You can come through.’

  Martin looked at the nurse then at his phone then back at the nurse. He covered the phone with his hand.

  ‘One second,’ he said, then lifted the phone to his ear. ‘I’m at the hospital,’ he said. ‘I have to go and see Sandra.’

  ‘Is everything OK?’ Wynne said.

  ‘I’m about to find out.’

  ‘Before you go,’ Wynne said, ‘let me tell you what happened.’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Someone – a young woman – dialled 999 and said your daughter’s name. That was all they had time to say before the line was cut off. However, we have the number she rang from. It’s a mobile phone belonging to Colin Best.’

  ‘Best? What does he have to do with this?’

  ‘We think it was him who took her. We found a secret room under his garage, but it was empty when we got there. We think he knew she’d called 999 and fled with her.’

  Martin’s legs shook; he sat down heavily.

  ‘Is she alive?’

  There was a pause. ‘We have every reason to think so. We have all available resources looking for her.’

  ‘My God,’ Martin said. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Mr Cooper? Are you all right?’ The nurse walked over to him, frowning in concern.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I got some – some unexpected news.’

  Wynne spoke again. ‘You should go. I’ll ring as soon as I have any kind of update.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Martin said. He cut the connection and stood up. His legs were still weak and he steadied himself against the arm of the chair. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

  Wynne

  The first few hours were critical. Best would likely have a place he could go to ground. Once he was there it would be hard to find him. It was while he was on the move that they had the best chance of catching him.

  They had found a passport photo of him in a drawer in the house and that, along with the make, model and registration of his car, was now circulating among every police force in the country. Border Control also had the photo, as well as an alert on his passport. In case he had a fake, they had been told to look out for a man in his sixties travelling with a girl in her late twenties.

  Wynne didn’t think he would try and leave the country, though. It was too risky, especially since the description didn’t stop at a man in his sixties and a woman half that age.

  It also included a toddler.

  There wasn’t much in the room under the garage, but what there was included a child’s clothes and some toys. She hadn’t mentioned to Martin Cooper that he might have a grandchild, but it looked as though he did.

  There was also a lot of blood, which must have left someone with some injuries. Such an unusual group travelling together, one of whom would look like they’d been in a boxing match, would draw a lot of attention to them.

  So he may have got rid of them.Wynne doubted it. Not after so much time. Still, she’d make sure that the alert included the instruction to look out only for Best.

  All in all, Wynne didn’t think Best would be leaving the country. Where he was going, she didn’t know. But it was important they find him before he got there.

  Martin

  Sandra’s room was at the end of the corridor. Martin felt dazed as he walked along it, the nurse by his side.

  Maggie had been held captive by Best? It was impossible. He’d been at their house. James had been at his house. He was their friend.

  He felt sick. If it was true then it meant Best had done more than simpl
y take their daughter. He had taken some perverse pleasure in watching them suffer.

  And he still had her.

  But she was – or at least might be – alive.

  First, though, he had to see Sandra. He put his hand on the door, and pushed it open.

  Wynne

  There was a knock on the door of DI Wynne’s office. DS Chan walked in. He was holding his car keys.

  ‘They found it,’ he said. ‘They found Best’s car.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘On the Sparkedge industrial estate. It was parked behind a warehouse. There’s a canal that runs past it and someone was jogging on the towpath. They called it in.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘No sign of them. The industrial estate is abandoned. Been that way for years.’

  ‘Do we have anyone there?’

  ‘Two officers. Another two are on the way. We’ve also called in the armed response gang. You never know.’

  Wynne nodded. ‘Let’s go and check it out.’

  Best’s Ford Focus was hidden from the road. Wynne walked around it, taking in the details. Two forensic technicians were working inside it, methodically collecting whatever evidence there was to collect.

  She looked around the industrial estate. There was a car park, grass growing through the tarmac where it had buckled and split, and four large buildings, their corrugated rooves rusting. Beyond them was a brown, fetid-smelling canal.

  She gestured at the buildings. ‘Have you been in?’

  ‘All locked up,’ said one of the PCs. He took off his helmet and scratched the back of his head. ‘We’ve contacted the owners. They’re sending someone who can open them.’

  ‘There may be an entrance,’ Wynne said. ‘A side door, or window.’

  ‘We had a good look,’ the officer said. ‘But it’s possible.’

  ‘Let’s have another look,’ Wynne said. ‘Best must have brought them here for a reason.’

  They divided the buildings up. Wynne and Chan took the one nearest. There was a double door at the front. The glass was grimy, but they could make out a reception area through it. The name of the company was still on the wall above the desk.

  The door was secured by a chain.

  ‘They didn’t come through here,’ Chan said. There was a large window to the left. At some point the glass had been broken and it had been covered with a board. ‘And I don’t think they got in there, either.’

  They walked down the side. There were a series of high windows at least thirty feet above the ground. At the far end was a loading bay. It too was secured with a padlocked chain. Wynne picked up the padlock. She pulled it; it was locked.

  ‘Not here either,’ she said. She looked down the other wall of the building. There was a door about halfway along.

  ‘Let’s check that out,’ Wynne said.

  They walked along the building. The door was metal, and had the words ‘Fire Escape’ printed on it in faded red letters. There was no chain, and no padlock.

  Chan glanced at Wynne. He walked up to the door and gripped the handle. It twisted and the door swung open.

  ‘Get an officer,’ Wynne said. ‘I want backup.’

  Martin

  Sandra was lying on the bed. There was a cup of tea and a packet of biscuits on the table next to her. As the door opened, she looked at Martin.

  The whole of his life seemed to crystallize in that moment. There were two possible futures, the left fork of illness and treatment and maybe the premature loss of his wife and the right fork of good health – for now, at least – and travel and growing old together.

  And then there was Maggie. He didn’t dare believe it yet, but if she was alive and Wynne could find her, what would she come home to? Would she be reunited with her mum, only to lose her again? It seemed impossible that the universe could be so cruel, but Martin had learned from bitter experience never to underestimate the capacity of the universe for cruelty.

  He took a step into the room.

  ‘So?’ he said.

  Sandra smiled.

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘I’m clear. I guess it really was just an upset stomach.’

  Wynne

  There were no lights, but in the beam of the torches they could see that the building was empty. It was a warehouse of some description, and, apart from a thick layer of dust, an unpleasant, animal smell and a stack of pallets in the far corner, there was nothing.

  ‘There are offices at the front,’ Wynne said. ‘Where the reception is. Check those.’

  Two officers – a man and a woman – headed for the front, their torches bobbing in the darkness. It was not long before they called out that there was nothing – and nobody – there.

  Wynne and Chan walked out into the sunshine.

  ‘Not in that building,’ Chan said.

  ‘There are three more,’ Wynne said.

  ‘I know.’ Chan looked around. ‘But there’s no one here. No one’s been here for years. You can tell.’

  ‘You can’t be sure.’

  ‘No, but why would they go into one of these buildings? They’d be trapped,’ Chan said. ‘There’s no way out. This place’ll be crawling with uniforms soon.’ He shook his head. ‘Best wouldn’t be here. He knows he’d get caught.’

  Wynne nodded. ‘Unless he doesn’t care about that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maybe being caught makes no difference to him. Maybe he brought them here to end it.’

  ‘To kill them?’

  ‘Murder–suicide,’ Wynne said. ‘It makes sense. Because if that isn’t why he came here, then I don’t know what the hell his reason could be.’

  An hour later there were eight squad cars in the car park and every building had been searched.

  There was no sign of Best, or Maggie, or a child, whether alive or dead, and there was no sign any of them had been in any of the buildings.

  Wynne stood in the car park and tried to think. Chan walked over with a coffee and handed it to her.

  ‘Why did he come here?’ she said. ‘Why come to this place in particular? What’s special about it?’

  ‘Maybe it’s something close to here,’ Chan said. ‘A house? Or something else?’

  Wynne turned to look at him. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Which means this is not his destination. It’s a stopping point. He must have known that one day he might need to run. And he would have had a plan. He’d know that we would be looking for his car, so he’d need a new one. That’s what this is. It’s where he kept another vehicle, and that’s where he is now. In some nondescript car on his way to wherever he’s going to hide.’

  She inhaled deeply.

  ‘We need to go through everything in his life. Every document in his house, every photo, every record of anywhere he’s been and anything he’s done. Get his bank records. See if there are transactions clustered in a particular place. Cash withdrawals. We need to find somewhere he’s visited more than normal. He’s going to need a place, property of some sort. If he has property there’ll be a record of it. Something he inherited, maybe.’

  Chan nodded. ‘Or somewhere he has access to that nobody knows about. Something abandoned.’

  ‘No.’ Wynne sipped the coffee. ‘I think he’d want control. An abandoned cottage or something like that would be too risky. He’ll want his own place. And we’ll find it. There’ll be a trace, somewhere, and when we find it this’ll be over.’

  Sandra

  ‘I’m fine,’ Sandra said. ‘I can walk to the car.’

  Martin was holding her arm. The nurse had said she might be a little woozy, and he had taken it to heart. What she mostly felt was elation.

  She was clear. It was a stomach upset and not a return of the cancer. There would be blood tests and check-ups for a while, but for now, she was in perfect health.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘But there’s something I have to tell you.’

  There was a seriousness in his tone which she was not expecting. She was expecting joy and happin
ess and laughter. She stopped walking and turned to him.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Let’s wait until we get to the car.’

  ‘Martin. What is it? Tell me.’

  His eyes flickered right and left, before he caught her gaze. For a moment she wondered if he was going to confess to something. An affair, maybe.

  ‘DI Wynne called. You remember her?’

  ‘How could I forget. What did she want?’

  ‘She said they think Maggie has been held captive. They found the room.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It was in Mr Best’s house. Under his garage.’

  It was a good job he was holding her. Whether it was the sedative or the news or a combination of both, she stumbled and he had to catch her.

  ‘Best?’ she said. ‘He took her? But – but he ate with us. He was my teacher.’

  ‘I know. It’s almost unbelievable.’

  ‘Are they sure it’s him?’

  Martin nodded. ‘They seem to be.’

  Had his friendship all been a sham, then? It was hard to believe, but then she remembered the book he had been reading that time at the hospital. The Collector. It had struck her as odd at the time, but now she understood what had actually been going on. He had been toying with her, stringing her along for his own amusement.

  Sandra felt something drain away from her – belief in the goodness of other people, maybe – as well as a rising anger – at Best, but also at herself. How had she missed it? How had she let him get away with it?

  ‘Should we have known?’ she whispered. ‘Could we have seen it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Martin said. ‘But we can save that for later. Wynne said Maggie escaped and called 999. They traced the call to Best, but by the time they got to his house, he was gone. Maggie too.’

  ‘So what are they doing?’

  ‘Looking for them.’

  ‘Oh, God. Is she alive?’

  ‘They think so.’

  ‘But with Best?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Our little girl,’ Sandra said. ‘She’s alive, Martin.’

  ‘I hope so.’