Pop Goes the Weasel

115

They were floundering in the dark – hapless figures scrabbling for a foothold as the ground kept giving way beneath them. Racing back to the station, Charlie had taken the lead. Harwood might be the boss, but she had the operational experience and she refused to trust anyone else with this – there was too much at stake. But they were getting nowhere.

McAndrew had read Helen’s files twice already but had unearthed no clues as to Ella’s whereabouts. They had tried triangulating Helen’s mobile phone signal, only to find that her phone was turned off. It had last been used six hours ago, when she was at the nick, so would be no use to them now. Traffic cameras had picked Helen’s bike up speeding north, but then lost her as she left the city centre. Where the hell was she? What had she seen that no one else had?

Charlie marched along the corridor, then down the stairs and out of the station. The team would continue to do their work as directed, but Charlie felt she needed to be out doing something. And as she neared her car, she slowed. A thought was forming, a past conversation coming back to her. Slowly an idea took hold and, electrified, she jumped in the car and roared off. Suddenly she knew exactly where to go.

Heads turned as Charlie marched between the line of desks, making a beeline for the office at the back. The security guards and receptionists, whose protests she’d ignored, hurried after her, but she had too big a lead on them and she was in Emilia’s office before they could get to her. Slamming the door shut, she rammed a chair under the handle and turned to face the startled reporter.

‘Where is she?’ Charlie demanded.

‘Where’s who?’

‘Helen Grace.’

‘I have no idea and frankly I’m not sure what you think you’re -’

‘How do you do it?’

‘Do what? Make sense, please, Char-’

‘You know where she is, you know who she is with -’

‘For God’s sake, why would I -’

Charlie was across the room before Emilia could finish her denial. Grabbing the reporter by the throat, she thrust her hard against the brick wall.

‘Listen very carefully to me, Emilia. Helen’s life is at stake here and I promise you that if you do not tell me what I need to know right now, I will nail your head to this wall.’

Emilia was choking now, Charlie’s hands growing ever tighter round her throat.

‘I have been through too much to let her down, so tell me how you do it. Are you bugging her phone? Intercepting her messages?’

Emilia shook her head. Charlie cracked it hard against the wall.

‘TELL ME!’

Emilia made a gurgling noise as if she was trying to speak, so Charlie loosened her grip. Emilia mumbled something.

‘What?’

‘Her bike,’ Emilia croaked.

‘What about it?’ Charlie demanded.

‘There’s a tracking device on her bike.’

So there it was.

‘How do you follow her?’

‘It’s linked to my phone. As long as she’s within a five-mile radius of me, I can find her.’

‘Good,’ Charlie said, releasing her victim. ‘Take me to her.’