During his deliberations, Paul never stopped to think about the sender of the e-mail. Never stopped to wonder why a complete stranger should pick him, to inform him of these facts. Or to question the sender’s motives. None of these questions crossed Paul’s mind. It’s doubtful if they’d have influenced his course of action even if they had. Eco Sounder had been roused: he had a mission to fulfil, a crusade to organize.
His mother wasn’t sure if her son actually enjoyed his tea, or even if he tasted it. She was about to ask if he wanted a dessert when he stood up. She supposed she should have been grateful for the ‘Thanks, Ma,’ delivered over his shoulder as he left the dining room. He was too preoccupied with the task before him to be concerned with such trivial matters as food. He had to get back to his computer. He needed to mobilize his troops for their best demonstration yet. More than that, he would do his level best to gain access to the place where he now knew they were torturing helpless animals. He felt his gut twist in agony. This was no reflection on his mother’s excellent cooking, but the thought of the suffering those poor creatures had endured – were still enduring.
Well, if he’d anything to do with it, that suffering would soon be over. Next weekend would be the best time for what he had planned. The movement could always count on greater support at weekends. In addition, he reckoned the target for their activities would have less staff on hand to raise the alarm.
Paul ran down a mental list of some of their most radical minded activists. Ones who, like Paul himself, would have no qualms in breaking the law, breaking a whole raft of laws to achieve their ends. And, he’d send a copy to the guy who’d e-mailed him. Only fair he should be kept in the loop.
He began composing the e-mail he would circulate to all like-minded individuals who he knew would possibly be available. No point in sending it to those in Cornwall or Essex. They had to be within striking distance of Helmsdale. They’d need to arrange a meeting place as well. And they’d need directions to their target: Helm Pharm.
Eventually, after what seemed an age, the motorhome turned off the main road and onto a narrow, winding lane. In the beam of the headlights, Jessica could see grass growing through the tarmac in the middle of the single track. What she could make out of their surroundings through the windscreen looked wild, moorland country, with no houses, or barns even. They hadn’t passed a village or a signpost for several miles until, as her captor slowed the vehicle, the headlights picked out a sign. There was only one destination shown on the board. It read: ‘Stark Ghyll 8 miles’. Jessica gave an involuntary shiver. Her fear returned, amplified. She knew she was at this man’s mercy. A chaotic jumble of thoughts crowded her mind. He’d said he was keeping her safe. Safe for herself, or safe for him? Why had he taken her? Certainly not for her money. She had none, her father had very little. If not money, there could only be one other explanation, but it horrified her. The fear became terror. Subconsciously she shrank away, pressing close to the passenger door. She was miles from the nearest human habitation. Alone, with a man who’d kidnapped her. And her only explanation for her abduction was that she was now at the mercy of a rapist.
‘You don’t have to worry,’ his words broke a silence that had become oppressive.
‘What do you mean?’ Jessica was proud of the calm tone of her voice.
‘I mean that I haven’t kidnapped you for the reason you’re thinking about.’
‘How did you know what I was thinking?’ The moment she blurted it out she regretted it.
In the darkness she saw his teeth. He was laughing. At her? ‘You’re not an heiress. You’re not a famous film star. You’re not a millionaire’s daughter. You haven’t got a map of a mine where there’s buried treasure in your possession. So the only other logical explanation is that I’m a sex maniac after your, admittedly, highly attractive body. And that I’ve brought you out here to this remote spot to have my evil way with you. Until I get tired of you that is, when I slit your throat and drop you down a disused mine shaft. Is that close enough to what you were thinking?’
‘You’re not? A sex maniac I mean?’
‘Oh yes.’ Although she barely knew the man, Jessica recognized the sarcasm in his voice. ‘You’ll be the tenth this week. If it continues like this I’ll have to find another mine shaft. This one will be full by the end of the month.’
As he spoke he swung the vehicle off the track. They were now on the open moor, bumping over the uneven ground. ‘Not long now. Bit bouncy for a while, but you’re quite safe.’
They’d only travelled a couple of hundred yards when the ground before them opened up. They drove slowly down a long slope until they were in some sort of a natural bowl. ‘Where are we?’ Jessica asked as he stopped the vehicle. ‘What is this place?’
‘Old quarry,’ he told her as he unbuckled his seat belt. ‘Disused for centuries. Come on.’
He opened the curtain leading to the back of the van and gestured to her to go inside. ‘Better sit down,’ he told her. ‘Before I tell you why I’ve brought you here, I want you to tell me about your family.’
He pressed a switch and warm, subdued lighting lit the small living space. He pulled the curtains across the windows behind the couches, then the longer one separating them from the driving area.
‘My family, why do you want to know about my family?’
‘Tell me what they’re like. Do you love them? All the normal things. What’s home life like? Anything that comes into your mind.’
She laughed, but he saw no humour in her expression, in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was bitter. ‘That’s a joke for a start. Calling them my family, I mean. I don’t have a family. I just have a set of relatives. My mother’s a lush and a nymphomaniac. My brother’s a thief and a junkie. And I hardly ever see my father. You call that a family?’
This was going to be easy. Easier than he’d imagined. ‘Doesn’t sound as if you’d miss your mother much. Or your brother for that matter. Now why’s that I wonder?’
She hesitated; decided she owed her mother no loyalty. Or Adam either. ‘When I was fifteen years old I was sent home from school, because I’d been sick. I walked in the house and heard noises from the bedroom. The one she shared with my father. But at that time she was sharing it with two other men. Complete strangers. The moment I saw what she was doing with them, saw the look on her face, at that moment I ceased to have a mother.’
‘Not a pleasant thing for a young girl to find out. Especially about her mother,’ he agreed. ‘And what about your brother? What about Adam?’
‘You know Adam?’
He nodded. ‘Know of him,’ he corrected her.
‘That’s the best way to know Adam. I wasn’t granted that luxury. My grandmother died when I was five. I only met her a few times because we were in America. She came to visit us, but not often. She left me a beautiful necklace. It was made up of diamonds and rubies. Father had it valued for insurance. They said it was worth ten thousand pounds. Four years ago, before I’d even had chance to wear it, my brother stole it. He sold my necklace to buy drugs. I found out later he only got seven hundred pounds.’ Her tone took on a new level of bitterness. ‘He couldn’t even get a decent price for it. If my father hadn’t pleaded with me, I’d have reported him to the police. I think that says everything about my relationship with my mother and brother. So, what would you like to talk about next?’
‘Your father. Tell me about your father?’
‘What is this all about?’
He shook his head. ‘Later. First I’m going to make us a drink.
What would you like? I’ve tea, coffee or drinking chocolate. Whilst the kettle’s boiling you can tell me about your father.’
‘Hot chocolate please.’ Was there no understanding this man?
There was a long silence. So long he thought he was going to need to prompt her. Then, at last she spoke. Her tone changed, the bitterness vanished, to be replaced with a gentler, more protective air. ‘It hasn’t been easy for him. Dad isn’t strong, you see. He’s not able to face up to things. That’s why people feel they can bully him, take advantage of the fact he’s so easygoing. When he was at university he got headhunted. It must have seemed like a great deal at the time. The opportunity of a lifetime, especially for someone so young: so naive. He was sponsored to do research. That was fine; it was what he enjoyed doing most anyway. But then they wanted payback; big style. By then, he and my mother were married and Adam was on the way. They called on Dad, wanted him to go to America, wouldn’t take no for an answer. They wanted him at their headquarters in California, to head up some research project they’d just started.’
‘Do you know what that was?’
She shook her head. ‘Dad’s never been allowed to talk about his work. Anyway, all this was way before I was old enough to understand what was going on. Then, one day, out of the blue, he told us we were all moving back to England.
‘Until then, we’d been fairly happy. But after we got to England, everything went wrong. Mother started her antics; then Adam started on drugs. Dad always seemed so unhappy. A lot of the time I put it down to Mother’s behaviour, or Adam’s problems, sometimes I even wondered if I’d caused it, but eventually I came to understand there was far more to it than that.’
‘Did he say why he decided to come back? Was his work in America over?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Jessica screwed her face up in an effort to remember. ‘He said it was because he’d been transferred. That was it. That was the word he used, transferred. As time went on, things got worse and worse. Mother’s behaviour got more outrageous. Adam was totally out of control. And Dad, well, I hardly ever saw him. When I did, he was either too upset to talk,
or simply too exhausted. Or sometimes both.’
She looked at him, sudden realization came to her. Something he’d said. ‘You asked me if I’d miss Mother or Adam. Why did you ask that? Has something happened to them?’
He thought for a moment before replying. ‘They’re dead,’ he told her laconically.
Shock flared in her eyes. Shock, but no distress. ‘Dead?’ she repeated. ‘How did they die?’
‘I killed them.’
He said it in so matter of fact a tone she didn’t realize what he’d said for some time. When realization came, she began to shake. ‘Don’t worry. I said I wouldn’t harm you, and I won’t, as long as you do as you’re told. As I tell you. Understand? Behave, and you live. Misbehave, and all bets are off.’
‘I understand.’
‘Say it properly. Say, “I promise to do everything you ask of me. I promise to obey you at all times.”’
She repeated the words. He wasn’t bothered about what she said. It was the voice he was interested in. As she spoke it was getting more and more slurred. The effect of the sedative in her drink.
‘That’s enough. No more talking for tonight.’ He watched her eyes glaze over as the drug took effect. He fielded her empty mug and swung her legs onto the couch. He reached into the stowage compartment underneath the bunk and took out a duvet. He covered her and tucked a pillow under her head. ‘Good night, Jessica,’ he said softly. But she was already fast asleep.
He slid open a drawer and took out a laptop, plugged it in and switched on. Fortunately the area was close enough to several military establishments, so signal wasn’t going to be a problem. When the internet connection was made, he located the cursor over the space bar and began to type the word ‘STOCKHOLM’.
When time had passed with no contact, Nash had all but given up hope of getting a positive response to his request for information regarding Dr North. The phone call came as a considerable surprise, not the least part of which was due to its source.
‘Detective Inspector Nash? Major Smith, Military Intelligence.’
‘Another one?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘A colleague of mine had a phone call from a Captain Smith. I wondered if you’d been promoted? Or if you’re all called Smith, like in
The Matrix
?’
‘Coincidence,’ the major told him. ‘I understand you’re concerned about Dr North?’
‘That’s certainly no exaggeration.’
‘I’m happy to tell you Dr North is both alive and well. Unfortunately I’m not in a position to tell you much more.’
‘That’s certainly good news, although it’s of very little help in my investigation.’
‘I understand that, and believe me, I am sympathetic. However, I may be able to be of some limited assistance, as far as I’m allowed. I can tell you that Dr North was at a meeting in Birmingham on the night his wife died. Over twenty people can vouch for that fact. They include several eminent scientists and half a dozen high-ranking army officers. As for when his son was killed, Dr North was in hospital at the time, having suffered head injuries in a car smash. And before you ask, my people have conducted a thorough investigation into the accident and there are no suspicious circumstances surrounding it.’
‘It would have been useful to speak with Dr North, if only to ask him if he has any idea of a motive for either murder, or even a possible suspect.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Inspector, but my superiors will not allow that. Dr North’s work is highly sensitive, and I understand it to be at a critical stage in development. Please believe me, though, we have questioned him ourselves as to who might be behind these deaths and he has absolutely no idea. I can also assure you that he is being extremely well protected. Without wishing to denigrate your officers, I believe we can offer him far better protection than you would be able to.’
‘And what about Jessica?’
There was a pause. ‘To the best of my knowledge, Miss North is also alive and well. I’m sorry, but that’s all I’m allowed to say.’
After the man rang off, Nash stared at the phone for a few moments. That pause worried him. That, and the sentence that had followed it. Reading between the lines, he wondered if the military actually knew where Jessica was.
He called Clara into his office. ‘Go back to Gorton. Talk to anybody and everybody you can. Find out anything you can about Jessica North. If nothing else, ask if anyone’s ever seen her in school uniform, and if so, see if they can describe it. If they could, it might be a help, especially if the logo or badge is distinctive.’
‘Damn it, Mike, why didn’t I think of that?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘One of the forensics guys unearthed something from beneath a huge chunk of broken plaster. It had come off the wall of the smallest bedroom. It was a plaque in the shape of a shield.’
‘Can you remember what it looked like?’
‘No, but I’m sure the fire service collected a lot of the smaller items such as that.’
It took an hour of searching through a series of black plastic bags before they located the shield. Clara held it up; then stared as Nash began laughing. ‘Drive over to Harrogate this afternoon. I’ll give you directions.’
Clara blinked. ‘You recognize this?’ She looked at the shield. Despite the smoke damage she could make out a griffin’s head, an oak tree and two white roses. ‘How come you know it?’
‘Because I went to the same school.’
Clara stared at him. ‘But Jessica’s a girl. How come? Is it a mixed school?’
‘It is now. It wasn’t when I went.’
‘I bet a lot of mothers would be glad about that, if they knew.’
It was mid-afternoon when Mironova rang him. ‘I spoke to the headmaster. Jessica was taken out of school a couple of weeks ago. The men who came for her had Military Intelligence warrant cards. The headmaster told me he wouldn’t have accepted the cards on their own, but that they also brought a letter explaining that Jessica’s mother and brother were dead, and that Dr North was in a hospital, unconscious, and that there
were fears for Jessica’s safety on grounds of national security. The letterhead was Helm Pharm, who Jessica confirmed as her father’s employers. The headmaster didn’t pass the contents on to Jessica but kept the letter. I’ve brought it away with me.’
‘Who signed it?’
‘Dr Caroline Dunning. Her title is given as “Head of Scientific Research”. The headmaster asked Jessica if she knew Dr Dunning. She told him Dr Dunning worked closely with her father.’ Clara paused. ‘He got the impression Jessica didn’t like Dr Dunning much.’