Deception

NINETEEN

Steven wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. Although he rebelled against the notion that fate could be so cruel, like a man, lost in the desert, wanting more than anything to find water, he acknowledged that he could be seeing what he wanted to see most in the whole world, his daughter Jenny. This possibility did not however, stop him rushing to the door and throwing it open. It was no mirage. Jenny was walking up the path. She seemed tired, confused and frightened but more importantly, she appeared to be unharmed.

‘My Daddy!’ exclaimed Jenny, using up what little energy she had in making a headlong rush for Steven.

Steven swept the little figure up into his arms, smothering her in hugs. ‘Oh, my baby, my sweet, sweet baby,’ he murmured, tears filling his eyes. ‘Sue! Peter!’ he called out. ‘She’s back!’

DCI Grant and his sergeant arrived within fifteen minutes. They brought with them a WPC trained in dealing with children who had been subject to trauma. The police doctor arrived shortly afterwards and it was quickly established to everyone’s relief that Jenny had apparently suffered no physical harm. She was a very subdued and frightened little girl but none of Steven’s worst fears had been realised and, like a successful actor on Oscar night, he was filled with an overwhelming desire to thank everyone in the entire world, such was his sense of relief. For the first half-hour or so it didn’t matter who had taken Jenny away or why. The only thing of any importance was the fact that she was back safe and well. The police however, had a different priority and wanted to question Jenny as soon as possible.

Steven sat with her on his knee, providing comfort and assurance, as Grant and the WPC talked Jenny gently through what had happened to her. Grant, with the admirable common sense he had shown throughout the inquiry, sensed quickly that Jenny was an articulate child for her age and encouraged her to tell them the series of events in her own words, rather than subject her to the demands of a question and answer session.

It transpired that Jenny had been taken away by a man who had approached her in the bushes near the road when she’d gone to collect the ball. He had told her that her daddy wanted to see her. Jenny, having been well warned about not speaking to strangers, had been suspicious and had told him that she would have to tell Robin and Mary first, whereupon the man had snatched her up and put her into his car. Jenny mimed to them how he had held his hand over her mouth. He had not struck her and the car she described was in fact, the blue Range Rover.

She had been driven to a house ‘a long way away in the country’, which she thought was very ‘old fashioned’ because of the furniture and the smell. It smelled, ‘old, like Granny’s house’. She had been locked in a room but given books with pictures in them and pens to colour them in. She had been given something to eat on two occasions — ‘yukky food’ — and ‘yukky orange juice’ when she’d asked for something to drink. She hadn’t been allowed to go to the bathroom but had been told to use the potty in the room. Jenny was very embarrassed about this.

‘Did this man touch you at all, Jenny?’ asked the WPC.

‘Once, when he came into the room, I tried to run away but he caught me and carried me back. He threw me on the bed and said I wasn’t to try that again or it would be the worse for me.’

‘Apart from that?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Did he ask you to do anything for him, Jenny?’

‘He said to keep quiet. I was crying a lot and he said I should be quiet. He said I was a pain in his arse and I was getting on his nerves.’

‘Was there just the one man, Jenny?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell us what he looked like, Nutkin? Was he young or old?’ Steven asked.

‘Old.’

‘Old like Granddad or old like Daddy?’ asked the WPC.

‘Like Daddy.’

Jenny gave a reasonable, although childish, description of a well-built man in his thirties with dark hair who had taken her from the park, driven her to a cottage out in the country somewhere and kept her there all day. She had been fed and given colouring books to play with and, after falling asleep at some time during the evening, she had been woken up and returned unharmed.

‘It’s weird,’ said Grant.

‘Maybe he got cold feet when he thought about what he was doing,’ suggested his sergeant. ‘Abducting a child still gets you a lot more than a slap on the wrist, even in these “enlightened” times.’

‘Possible, I suppose,’ said Grant. ‘But I feel there’s something we’re missing here.’ He looked towards Steven who was also deep in thought and not liking what he was coming up with. ‘Jenny,’ he asked. ‘Did this man say anything to you when he brought you back?’

‘He said, “Here we are, kid. There’s no place like home. Tell your daddy that.’

Steven felt his blood run cold. Everyone was looking at him and he didn’t quite know what to say. He was suffused with feelings of guilt as he realised that he’d got the whole thing completely wrong. Jenny’s abduction had not been the work of some child-molesting weirdo from the darker wastelands of society, as they’d all been assuming. The whole thing had been a ploy to get at him. It had been another warning from Sigma 5 to get out off the case.

‘I think we should talk,’ said Grant.

Steven handed Jenny over to Sue and went through into the kitchen to speak with Grant who demanded, ‘What’s going on?’

‘They took her to get at me,’ said Steven. ‘It never occurred to me that they’d do anything like this.’

‘Who’s “they”?’ asked Grant.

‘I’m not sure myself,’ replied Steven although he was thinking about Childs and Leadbetter. ‘I’m working on a Sci-Med investigation in Blackbridge in West Lothian, a problem with GM crops. Let’s say my interest is not appreciated in some quarters. They’ve already had a go at wiring my car. I think this was yet another way of expressing their disapproval.’

‘You mean they kidnapped your daughter just to warn you off?’ exclaimed Grant.

Steven nodded.

‘Bloody hell, man. Whose toes have you been stepping on? The Mafia’s?’

Steven felt that to reply, ‘No, the government’ would sound even more ridiculous so he did not furnish an answer, instead he said, ‘The family’s going to need protection. I’ll square it with Sci-Med and get the paperwork rushed through but I’d be grateful if you’d put your best on it. We’re not dealing with amateurs here.’

‘I’ve a couple of officers who’ve done a stint with the Royal Protection mob,’ said Grant.

‘Just as long as they’re not republicans,’ said Steven.

‘How long are we talking about, here?’

‘Things will come to a head in Blackbridge quite soon,’ said Steven. ‘I can’t guarantee it but I feel it in my bones.’

The police left and Sue put Jenny to bed. The house became quiet as befitted the early hours of the morning and Sue and Peter made some tea and toast. Amazingly, Mary and Robin had slept through all the excitement.

‘God, what a relief,’ said Peter, when they were all seated. ‘It’s just so good to have her back. I must confess now that I feared the worst.’

‘I didn’t dare let myself,’ said Sue. ‘I just couldn’t bear to think about it, poor little sausage. Now are you going to tell us what it was all about, Steven?’

Sue caught him by surprise but Steven recognised that she and Peter were entitled to an explanation. He took a sip of his tea before putting the cup back down and resting both hands on his knees. ‘When you phoned me in Edinburgh and told me that Jenny had disappeared, I imagined the worst too,’ he said. ‘My mind was filled with nightmare thoughts about why she’d been taken and whatever way I looked at it, I feared the most likely outcome would be that they’d find her in some field in a few days time. It never occurred to me that Jenny’s disappearance had anything to do with me and my job but that’s what it looks like now. They took Jenny to get at me. They did it to warn me off the investigation I’m working on at the moment. I’m just so sorry that it has affected you and your family too.’

‘I didn’t realise your job could get you mixed up in anything like this,’ said Peter.

‘Neither did I,’ said Steven.

‘Can’t you ask to be taken off the case in the light of what’s happened?’ asked Sue.

‘I could but I think I’m in too deep,’ said Steven, ‘and it wouldn’t be fair to a new investigator. I’ve spoken to DCI Grant and he will provide police protection for all of you from now until the investigation is resolved but I do realise that this may all be a bit more than you bargained for…’

Sue held up her hand to stop him. She said, ‘Jenny is part of our family too, whatever daft things her father gets up to, so don’t go suggesting anything silly about moving her away. We’ll cope, won’t we, love?’ Sue took Peter’s hand and he smiled his assent.

Steven felt a lump come to his throat. ‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘I appreciate it.’

‘How would it be if we were to go away for a bit,’ suggested Peter to Sue’s obvious surprise.

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘We haven’t had a proper holiday this year as yet so it strikes me that this would be an excellent time. What d’you reckon, Sue?’

‘Sound good to me. Where?’

‘We could all go down and stay with my parents in Norfolk without telling anyone where we’re going. What do you think?’

‘Knowing that all you folks were all away somewhere safe would certainly be a load off my mind,’ said Steven.

Steven said that he would have to let DCI Grant know of the plan but apart from him, no one else need know.

‘Then it’s settled. Let’s all get some sleep.’

Jenny came out of her shell a little on the following morning under heavy questioning at the breakfast table from Sue’s children about her experience. ‘Did he have a gun?’ Robin wanted to know. Had she been tied up and blindfolded? Was she put in a sack?

Mary asked about the cottage she’d been taken to. Was it like the witch’s cottage in Hansel and Gretel? Was there a black cat there? All Jenny’s replies seemed disappointing to them. The whole experience had been much more prosaic than they had imagined. Steven was pleased however, he thought that talking about it to the others would be therapeutic for Jenny. She was still very subdued however.

This was even more apparent when they all went for a walk in the village to thank the people who’d taken part in yesterday’s search. Instead of scampering ahead with Sue’s children, as she would normally do, she positioned herself between Steven and Sue and held on to their hands tightly. At one point, when the whole family was laughing at something Robin had said or done, Steven noticed that Jenny wasn’t smiling and that her mind seemed to be on other things. He asked her gently what she was thinking about and she started to cry. ‘I was frightened Daddy,’ she confessed. ‘I didn’t like that man.’

From time to time, Steven tried to steer the conversation back to the man who’d taken her away and anything he might have said or done but he did it as casually as possible, so as not to encourage any post-event trauma. He stopped immediately when Jenny grew restless of his questions. They then talked about what children did at nursery school instead — Jenny’s favourite subject in recent weeks.

There was a bad moment when the time came for Steven to return to Edinburgh and Jenny decided for the first time ever in this situation that she wanted to come with him. She clung to his sleeve in determined fashion until he eventually managed to reassure her that she’d be safe and that no one would try to take her away again. The moment passed but Steven could see that Jenny’ view of the village and her life in it had been coloured, perhaps indelibly and forever, by the events of the last two days.

As he drove back he found himself becoming increasingly angry over what Sigma 5 had done. True, they hadn’t harmed Jenny physically but the experience was going to stay with her and it would always be there in nightmares. It seemed likely that the confident little girl he’d known would never be quite so confident again.

The description of the man that Jenny had given could have fitted either Childs or Leadbetter — both were tall, athletic men with dark hair, but he recognised that such a description would fit a great many other men, simply because of the lack of distinguishing detail. Jenny was too young to give a better description. While he thought about it, Steven remembered that he had spoken to DCI Brewer on Saturday morning when the policeman was returning from a visit to Crawhill Farm where he had learned of Khan’s destruction. If Childs and Leadbetter had been around to answer his questions about the fate of Rafferty’s dog, then it clearly could not have been either of them who’d been involved in Jenny’s abduction. But had both of them been around? It was possible that Brewer had only spoken with one of them. He decided that this was something worth checking so he pulled into a lay-by and phoned him.

‘No, I only spoke with Leadbetter,’ replied Brewer. ‘Why d’you ask?’

‘You’re sure you didn’t see Childs at all?’ asked Steven, ignoring Brewer’s question.

‘No, these two are usually joined at the hip but not on that occasion, or the night before for that matter.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Childs turned up at Trish Rafferty’s place after you asked us to put a guard on it. He said he wanted to express his sympathy over Tom’s death and find out Trish’s plans for the farm. The officer on the door pointed out that it was very late and suggested he leave it until the morning. Childs agreed and left.’

‘I don’t suppose your man reported what kind of car Childs was driving, did he?’ asked Steven.

‘It wasn’t on his report but I could ask him.’

Steven thanked Brewer and continued his drive. He had reached the southern outskirts of the city when Brewer called back. ‘It was a blue Range Rover. Does that help?’

‘It does,’ replied Steven and clicked off the phone. Coincidences didn’t stretch that far. It had been Childs who had taken his daughter.

Steven drove to his hotel and made contact with Sci-Med for the second time that day — he’d been in touch before he left Glenvane to make the official request for police protection for Jenny and the family. It was already there in practice — he’d noticed the dark Ford Escort with two men in it on their walk round the village, but DCI Grant would need the official paperwork. At the time of his first call, Sci-Med had not had anything back from the lab so he thought he’d ask again.

‘The report’s just come in,’ said the duty officer. ‘Do you want me to read it out?’

‘Shoot.’

‘All submitted samples of glyphosphate and glufosinate weed-killing chemicals contained exactly what was stated on the container labels and in the same proportions. A search for contaminating traces of other chemicals was negative in all cases.’

‘Shit,’ murmured Steven as his theory caught fire and turned to ashes. ‘What about the rat?’

‘Toxicology report on animal ref. 23567, male rat. The animal’s body contained no trace of toxic chemicals.’

Steven felt utterly dejected. He was so silent that the duty man had to ask if he had heard. ‘I heard,’ he murmured.

‘The lab want to know if they can destroy the chemical samples and ditch the rat’s body or do you want them kept?’

‘They can chuck them. Wait! No, tell them to hang on to the rat for the time being. They can lose the chemicals though.’

‘Will do.’

Steven remembered his conversation with Sue and Peter when he had said that he couldn’t give up the investigation because he was ‘in too deep’. The lab had just told him that, far from being in too deep, he had actually failed to scratch the surface of the affair. The GM crop on Peat Ridge Farm had not been poisoned and neither had the rats. He had no idea what was going on.

He gazed out of the window while he tried to salvage something from the situation. The threats to his and his daughter’s life had been real enough and Rafferty’s and Binnie’s deaths were a sad matter of fact. There was also little doubt that the rats’ behaviour had changed so where did that leave him if chemical poisoning was no longer in the frame?

He thought again about Sweeney’s reaction to being questioned when he’d spoken to him at the Vet school and took comfort from that. Sweeney wouldn’t have behaved the way he had if all he had been asked to conceal was a completely negative report. In fact, there would have been no reason to pressure him into doing so in the first place. But there had been a reason. Either the rat Binnie had examined was in some way different from the one he had sent to Sci-Med or… Or what? Could it be that he had asked the lab to look for the wrong thing?

Steven reckoned that it was difficult to see what other test he could have asked for in the circumstances. Toxicology would cover the presence of all known noxious substances including those which damaged DNA and would therefore affect future generations… but it wouldn’t have entailed a check for infection, he reminded himself. Maybe the crop or the rats or both had been infected by a bacterium or virus, although he couldn’t see how someone like Rafferty could have engineered anything like that. It was a long shot but it was worth checking out, Steven decided — if only because he couldn’t think what else to do for the moment. He contacted Sci-Med again and asked for bacteriology and virology reports on the rat’s body.

Eve called to say that she’d been in touch with Trish Rafferty again.

‘Any progress?’ asked Steven.

‘She’s coming home to Crawhill tomorrow,’ said Trish. ‘She has to sort out various things and make arrangements for Tom’s funeral so I said I’d give her a hand whenever I could.’

‘Well done.’

‘I didn’t do it for you. I did it because she’s my friend.’

‘Understood,’ said Steven in such a way as to make Eve feel guilty that she’d said it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just that I feel so guilty about all this. How was your daughter? Did you have a nice day with her?’

‘I’ll tell you about that when I see you,’ said Steven.

‘When will that be?’

‘Dinner this evening?’ suggested Steven.

‘I can’t. I’m working at the hotel.’

‘Pity.’

‘I’ll get off about ten. Maybe we could meet then?’

‘See you at ten.’

Steven returned to thinking about Childs and what he should do. This, he saw as a test of his own character. What he really wanted to do was confront Childs, put the automatic in his mouth and blow his head off for what he’d subjected Jenny to, but years of training had drummed into him the fact that letting things get personal could be the kiss of death. He must remain cold and dispassionate or at least as cold and dispassionate as he could manage. He was still human and in this case, that meant bloody angry.

The obvious thing would be to inform the Dumfriesshire police. He felt sure that Jenny would identify Childs and the fact that he drove a blue Range Rover, which the other children had seen, would seem to be the clincher. There would be a lot of satisfaction to be gained from seeing Childs put away for what he’d done but there was a bigger picture to consider. Steven recognised, albeit reluctantly, that Childs had done what he’d done to protect his own assignment. The question he had to ask himself was, would seeing him in court bring him any closer to finding out what that business was all about or who was really behind it?

After a few minutes thought, he could see that the only chance of that would be if Childs spoke out at his trial in order to save his own skin. The chances of that, he concluded — even in the face of a long prison sentence, were remote. Childs and Leadbetter were both ex-Special Forces not a couple of cheap crooks on the make. If they had been selected for the assignment at Blackbridge it was because they were the best. They would keep their mouths shut. There was also the strong possibility that the establishment would find some way of not bringing Childs to court if it suited their purpose and it obviously would. The whole thing could end up with himself and a lot of policemen down in Dumfries feeling very bitter about nothing having been achieved. He would bite the bullet and do nothing for the moment.

He called Jamie Brown to see if he’d managed to speak to Gus Watson.

‘I didn’t get very far, I’m afraid,’ said Brown. ‘He’s worried about his job right now so he’s not inclined to rock any boats. I think he hopes that Trish Rafferty will keep on the plant-hire business and do something about his working conditions, which he says are pretty bad, but, as he put it, jobs in this area are about as common as flying pigs. Mind you, if the GM people get their way, flying pigs might become a bit commoner!’

Steven felt in no mood for humour. He asked, ‘What about the organic farm plan? Does he see himself fitting into that at all?’

‘I don’t think so. Gus didn’t understand Rafferty’s interest in organic farming any more than anyone else around here.’

‘So what’s bugging him about his work conditions?’ asked Steven.

‘He reckons that the condition of the machinery is much worse than it would be if it were housed properly. He’s fed up repairing damage caused by exposure to the elements. Most of the storage sheds have leaking roofs.’

‘Seems a reasonable complaint. Out of interest, did he ever talk to Childs and Leadbetter about the problem?’

‘He did,’ said Brown. ‘He says they just weren’t interested.’

‘Surprise, surprise,’ murmured Steven, pleased to get even more confirmation that Childs and Leadbetter had no real interest in the financial state of Crawhill Farm. ‘Did Gus have anything to say about our “venture capitalists”?’

‘Just that they’re no farmers. “Wouldn’t know a cow from a unicorn,” was what he said, so he couldn’t see where the expertise to run an organic farm was going to come from.’

‘I hear Trish Rafferty’s coming back to Crawhill tomorrow,’ said Steven. ‘We’ll see what develops then.’

‘That should be interesting,’ agreed Brown.

Steven sat in his car about fifty metres from the Blackbridge Hotel, waiting for Eve who was late — it had already gone quarter past ten and he was beginning wonder if anything was wrong when she finally appeared, looking harassed.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she apologised. ‘We’ve been rushed off our feet this evening. One of the girls has gone down with flu and we’ve been really busy.’

‘No problem,’ said Steven. ‘What shall we do?’

‘I could do with a drink,’ said Eve. ‘We could drive over to Livingston?’

They drove the short distance to Livingston and found a hotel bar that wasn’t too crowded. ‘So what’s wrong?’ asked Eve, reading Steven’s general demeanour.

He told her what had happened to Jenny.

‘Childs and the other one were in the hotel bar tonight!’ said Eve. ‘The bastards! Have you told the police?’

Steven told her why not.

‘You must have been out of your mind with worry,’ said Eve.

‘I’ve had better days,’ agreed Steven with masterly understatement.

‘They really don’t want you snooping around, do they?’ said Eve in her attempt at matching it. ‘Are you any closer to knowing why?’

‘If anything, I’m further away,’ Steven confessed. He told Eve about the lab report on the chemicals and the rat.

‘But if it’s not the weed-killer and it’s not the GM crop itself, what else can it be?’ exclaimed Eve.

‘Trish Rafferty knows,’ said Steven.

‘I’ll have another go at her tomorrow when she comes home,’ promised Trish.