Bring Him Back (3 page)

‘Which was?’

‘Wildlife photography,’ Jessica said. ‘That became his passion. Sneaking up on animals and getting pictures of them.’ She snorted, her anger returning. ‘He didn’t give a damn that there was no money in it, that nobody was going to pay for a long-distance shot of some rare bird or other, even if he could stay sober long enough to snap the bloody thing. Didn’t care that we might end up having to sell this house and live like a couple of paupers for the sake of his dream. He didn’t even care about Carl’s education. He was becoming more and more despondent and spending more and more time drunk, and I mean
drunk
. I couldn’t take it any more. It simply tore us apart.’

Ben had already noticed the gold Datejust peeking out from under the sleeve of her silk blouse, and the diamond earrings that glittered through her hair. He wondered to himself how much it was the prospect of being married to a much poorer guy that had swung Jessica Hunter’s decision to end it.

‘What do you do, Mike?’ he asked.

‘I’m a development consultant for a specialist optics firm in Europe,’ Mike replied. ‘Custom applications for science and industry. I work mostly from home. But at the moment I’m taking time off to devote myself totally to supporting Jessica.’ He squeezed her hand tenderly.

Ben nodded, and turned back to Jessica. ‘Tell me more about your relationship between you, Carl, and Drew since the marriage ended.’

‘He used to have Carl every second weekend,’ she said, ‘while things were still reasonably amicable between us and before the drinking got completely out of control. But then it did, and the arrangement couldn’t go on. He’d turn up here reeking of booze, slurring his words – expecting me to hand Carl over to him in that state?’ Jessica sighed. ‘He was going more and more downhill. Living like a total slob. Carl said his place was a pigsty and all there was to eat there was frozen pizza and takeaway curry. Bottles everywhere, gin, whisky, vodka. He hadn’t had a job in months and all he did was drink. The last straw was when he crashed the car with Carl in it. He’d tricked me, somehow managing to turn up relatively sober to collect him, and then getting plastered the moment he was away from here. When the police arrived at the scene of the accident they found Drew four times over the drink-drive limit and a half-empty bottle of spirits in the car.’

‘Were they hurt?’

‘Carl had minor bruising, nothing more serious, thank Christ. Drew dislocated his shoulder. That’s when he was banned from driving and I had the restraining order put on him. Of course, I felt bad that it meant taking away his access to Carl completely. But I had no choice. It was the only thing I could do for my son’s safety.’

‘You said Drew had become prone to outbursts. While you were married, did you ever have reason to think that he could harm Carl?’

Jessica shook her head firmly. ‘Never. Despite everything, I always thought he loved him as deeply as I do.’

‘The night of the abduction, did it seem as if he’d been drinking?’

Jessica and Mike both shook their heads. ‘That was the strange bit,’ she said. ‘He seemed completely sober. There was no smell of alcohol on him. He didn’t seem discoordinated at all, and his voice was steady and clear. He knew exactly what he was doing. But he looked crazy.’

Ben asked, ‘Crazy in what way?’

‘I hadn’t seen him since the restraining order,’ Jessica said. ‘He looked like a wild man. I can let you have a copy of the police artist’s sketch, if you want.’

‘That would be helpful,’ Ben said. ‘But if you can describe him to me, that would too.’

‘His hair was all straggly and greasy. He had a beard. His clothes were dirty looking and he’d got so much fatter around the belly. It’s like he’s become a whole other person. A complete stranger.’ Her voice choked up. Her lip began to tremble, and then she burst out weeping. ‘How can a man who says he loves his son kidnap him?’ she said through the tears. ‘What’s he going to do?’

Mike put her arm around her as she dabbed her eyes. ‘I’m never going to see him again,’ she sniffed. ‘I just know it. Drew’s never going to let me see him again.’

‘What was Carl’s reaction when his father turned up like that?’ Ben asked, steering the conversation back onto neutral ground. ‘Did he seem scared?’

‘I think he was as shocked as Mike and I were,’ Jessica replied, dabbing her eyes.

‘So he didn’t go willingly.’

‘Drew was armed with a pistol,’ Mike said, frowning. ‘Who’s going to argue with a half-crazed man waving a gun around? We did what he ordered. So did Carl. None of us had a choice.’

‘Do you know where Drew could have got hold of a firearm?’

‘I haven’t the faintest clue,’ Jessica replied. ‘He’s always hated anything to do with guns. Said the only thing he’d ever shoot an animal with was a camera.’

‘The police have already been down that route,’ Mike told Ben. ‘They presume he must have obtained an illegal weapon from somewhere. They didn’t find any leads. There isn’t exactly a lot of arms trafficking on the island.’

‘Plenty of places he might have got one in France,’ Ben said. ‘He could have smuggled it back on the ferry, or he could have sailed a boat across himself.’

Jessica shook her head and almost smiled. ‘Drew couldn’t possibly handle any sort of boat on his own. He’s hopeless at anything practical that doesn’t involve cameras, lenses and tripods.’

‘Does he know anyone with a sea-going vessel of any kind?’

‘We had friends with yachts, when we were married. They no longer speak to Drew. In any case, gun smuggling would hardly be their thing. Neither would helping to kidnap a child.’

‘Look, the police have already been over this ground,’ Mike said.

‘And found nothing,’ Jessica added, suddenly on the edge of tears again. ‘Not a trace of my boy. Where is he? Where’s Drew taken him?’

‘Jessica, Mr Hope is here now,’ Mike consoled her. ‘If anyone can find Drew, it’s him. Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see.’

‘Call me Ben,’ Ben said. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at Carl’s room.’

4

WHILE JESSICA STAYED downstairs, pacing and agitated, Ben followed Mike to the boy’s bedroom. It was at the very top of the house, two floors up.

‘Jessica can’t bear to come near this room,’ Mike said. ‘Nobody’s been in since the forensic people. It didn’t take them long to find the DNA evidence that proves Drew was here.’

The door was slightly ajar. Ben swung it open a little wider and stepped into the large bedroom. He walked around, careful not to disturb anything. The bedclothes were rumpled. Drawers had been left lying untidily open where clothes had been pulled out. A lone sock lay strewn on the carpet.

‘What do you see, Mr Hope?’ Mike asked.

‘After he closed you and Jessica in the cellar, Drew brought Carl up here to pack his things up. Looks like it was done in a hurry.’

‘Why would that be?’ Mike asked. ‘He had us locked up good and proper down there. No way could I have smashed my way out, and he knew it.’

‘Maybe he had an appointment to make,’ Ben said.

‘Such as?’

‘Such as whoever he paid to take him and Carl off the island that night. With sixty grand in his pocket, there’d be a lot of people willing to help him, and no questions asked.’

Ben went on walking around the room, taking in details. Apart from its size, it was a more or less a typical room for a kid Carl’s age. Posters were clustered all over the wall around and above the single bed. A bookshelf was filled with books a twelve-year-old boy would read. There were model kits of fighter aircraft hanging on threads from the ceiling. A carefully painted plastic Tyrannosaurus Rex stood on a table next to a Sherman tank. Nearby was a collection of miniature enamel paints and some fine brushes standing in a pot.

‘He likes models a lot,’ Mike explained.

Spotting a small black object lying on the carpet, Ben crouched to look at it. It was a chess piece, a rook.

‘That’s from his chess computer,’ Mike said sadly. ‘I’d just fixed it for him, the night he was taken.’

‘You won’t mind if I hang onto this for now,’ Ben said, picking up the rook and dropping it into one of the small polythene evidence bags he carried in his pocket.

‘No, but any particular reason?’

‘I like to have something of the victim’s. So Carl’s into chess?’

‘Loves it, and he’s an excellent player. Thrashes me every time. Even beats the machine. He’s a very gifted boy. Very gifted indeed.’

Ben noticed the pride in Mike’s voice. It could have been the real father talking. ‘How do you and he get on?’ he asked.

‘He’s a great kid,’ Mike sighed. ‘I’ve tried my best to be a proper dad to him, but it’s hard. I know he resents me. I can’t really blame him for that. It’s normal in a situation like this. It’s always tough on the kids when their parents split up, isn’t it?’ He glanced at Ben, then went on. ‘I was hoping that in time he’d get to know me better. Now I don’t even know if I’m ever going to see him again.’

‘Don’t think that way,’ Ben said.

‘I’m counting on you,’ Mike said with sudden emotion. ‘We have to have Carl returned to us. He’s the most important thing in our lives. And I want that piece of shit Drew caught. I want him—’ Mike swallowed whatever he was going to say next, as if he’d been going to say too much. ‘What now?’ he asked instead.

‘I’ve seen enough,’ Ben replied, and headed for the door.

‘Where will you go from here?’

‘Give me Drew’s address.’

‘The police have already—’

‘I’m sure they have,’ Ben said. ‘I’d still like to take a look around the place.’

‘Carl had a key,’ Mike said. ‘I think Jessica’s got it somewhere.’

‘Then I’d like that too,’ Ben said.

‘I can do that.’

As Ben was leaving a few minutes later, armed with the things he’d asked for, Jessica appeared in the hallway. She’d been crying again and her eyes were puffy and red.

‘Take care. I’ll be in touch,’ Ben said, heading towards the door.

‘Ben?’ she said, and he stopped and turned.

She stepped up to him, reached out and clasped both his hands tightly.

‘Please find him. Find my son. Bring him back.’

5

DREW HUNTER’S ABODE since his divorce from Jessica had been a stark contrast from the family home the two of them had once shared. Ben parked a little way up the quiet street from the modest semi-detached suburban house on the outskirts of St Helier.

He didn’t get out of the car immediately, because nobody could have failed to notice the police patrol car sitting right outside Drew’s place. Ben sat at the wheel of his Mondeo, watching it. He could see the figures of two officers inside, in conversation with one another. With time passing and the kidnap becoming yesterday’s news, he guessed that the cops would be downscaling their surveillance of the place, just dropping by now and again on the off chance that they could catch Drew sneaking back to his address.

As if he’d come near the place with a marked car plonked outside his gate, Ben thought. Not the best strategic policy in the world. But that was why they were the police.

A few minutes later, the patrol car drove away. Ben got out of the Mondeo, walked to the house and let himself in the front door using the key that Mike had given him.

As he went from room to room, he was keeping his eyes open for the telltale signs that Jessica had described and which hopeless drunks always left in their wake. Empty bottles lying about, unwashed glasses perched on every flat surface reeking of stale beer and spirits, dishes piled high in the sink, fast food containers overflowing from the bin.

But there were none of those. The house was tidy, everything in place, everything clean. Even the bed was made. One room was full of expensive photographic equipment, all carefully organised.

Ben spent the next half hour sifting through every piece of paperwork in Drew’s study desk. Utility bills, tax documents, bank statements, insurance. Nothing beyond the mundane. Next, he went through every pocket of every jacket and pair of trousers in Drew’s wardrobe. He found a small folding knife. Not exactly the weapon of a hardcore crook. A camera lens cleaning cloth, still in its packet. A bus ticket. A photography supplies business card. Lastly, there was a little yellow receipt from a business called ‘A Stitch in Time’, which sounded to Ben like a clothes repair shop. Below the place’s address in St Helier was scrawled a collection date for the repaired garment: May ninth. Two days after the kidnapping, meaning that unless Drew was still on the island and crazy enough to go back to pick it up, it was still at the repair shop.

‘A stitch in time,’ Ben murmured thoughtfully as he left the study and continued his search of the house.

Returning to the kitchen, he checked the fridge and freezer. No beer, no vodka. Not even a frozen pizza. Surprisingly for a heavy-drinking deadbeat, it seemed that Drew had been living on organic health foods: tofu, lentils, wholegrain rice and pasta. ‘Jesus,’ Ben muttered to himself. He sniffed inside a plastic container: homemade vegetable soup. Give me army food any day, he thought.

Drew juiced his own fruit juice, too. A large bowl nearby was filled with oranges and grapefruit, some of them turning soft and discoloured with age. In a cupboard, Ben came across packs of dandelion and nettle tea, the kind of stuff hippies and alternative types drank. Along with them, sitting in front of stacked tins of organic butter beans and chickpeas, was a small brown bottle with a dropper top, which he took out and examined. It was some kind of herbal tincture. He wondered what ailment Drew had been using it for. That could be useful information. Sick people generally went to doctors, collected drugs at pharmacies. You couldn’t do that without leaving a trail.

Thinking he might find more of interest in the bathroom cabinet, he went back upstairs to check. There was nothing in the cabinet apart from the usual everyday toiletries. A pack of soap. Band-aids. Nail cutters. A pair of scissors with specks of fresh orange rust on the blades. Ben closed the cabinet door.