People Trafficker (8 page)

Karen had gone cold at Garry’s name being mentioned. Out of all the SAS officers only Garry knew she’d shot and killed Saeed. But would he talk, after all he fancied her and wanted to see more of her when they let him go? She’d said yes at the time, after all she thought he was dying and would never return, but the mutual arrangement of meeting each other again could be very important to her now.

Because she didn’t reply James pushed on. “Come on it’s very simple. Is what you’ve told me the truth or fabrication?”

She gave a soft smile, deciding to call his bluff. “So you believe you can frighten me by talking about mental health acts and holding me? Tell you what James. I’ve had enough shit from you. You’ve had my story, believe it or believe it not I couldn’t care less, but it’s all you’re getting. So I’m going to walk out of this building. I’m going to sell the real story of my captivity and escape to the highest bidder. Try and stop me and I’ll have dad call the papers, I’ll tell them how you’re treating me as some criminal. I’m not, I’ve done nothing but the minimum to stay alive and get myself out of that hellhole. So arrest me or shut up.”

He knew then he’d failed to get through the barrier she’d set up. Every time he tried to breach it she gained strength in her story, which was now unshakable.

He shrugged. “Okay if that’s what you want, I’ll call Sir Nigel. He will give you permission to leave, if it’s possible, I cannot. You and I are finished, Karen, I hope to god you can live with what you’ve done out there? I know I couldn’t, if I were in your shoes.”

She glared at him. “Who the hell do you think you are; pontificating as to what you think went on? You don’t know and neither do you want to understand, apart from your own belief that I’m some sort of murderer. No man can really know what it’s like to be a girl alone and on the run. If a man’s caught he can expect a beating. If a young girl’s caught what can she expect? I’ll tell you. She can only expect rape, rape and more rape. Stretched out on some bloody table, more than likely tied down like I was, until everyone has had their turn. Maybe she’d get lucky and they’d kill her, but probably not. After all there’s always the brothel, or more soldiers to satisfy the next day and the next day and the next? Faced with that, my option was to fight for my freedom or die. Well I decided to fight and believe me, I can live with myself. I was brought up as a Catholic, taught to turn the other cheek. I didn’t, and I really, really hope one day you’re faced with decisions like I had, and see just what you’d do. Although looking at you, you’d shit yourself if you had just one day of what I had to endure for weeks. So just get lost. From now on I no longer want to see you, talk to you, or listen to your patronising bloody twaddle anymore.”

James left the room and five minutes later Sir Nigel entered.
“I hear you want to leave,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk to that idiot or another like him, that’s what I want,” she retorted.

“I see Karen and you really have nothing more to add to your story of the events in the Lebanon?”

“No, nothing although I’d like to meet Garry again. We got on well and I thought he’d died of his injuries.”

“That may be possible, although I’m not certain he will be released before you return to the UK, Karen. But you are free to go; shall I call a cab for you?”

“No I don’t want a cab. Besides, they cost a fortune and I’m not made of money. I’ll walk; maybe thumb a lift, it’s not your problem. Anything’s better than being beholden to you lot.”

He looked down at the open file in front of him and signed the release paper, then looked up at her.

“You know all we wanted was the truth Karen, it seems you don’t want to tell us, so you can hardly expect us to be all nice and pally can you?”

She shook her head. “No you didn’t want the truth. You wanted me to admit what James decided in his mind was the truth, not what really happened. So you’re just pissed off he couldn’t break me and force me to tell a load of lies to make him and you look good. All he’s done is make me relive times I wanted to forget. I had nightmares last night, stayed up half the night afraid to close my eyes. You have no right to do that to me. But I’ll tell you this. Every bit of what he’s done to me I’ll tell the papers. Its harassment and he’ll bloody pay.”

“I think that is a bit of an exaggeration, Karen,” he replied, not really believing what she was saying.

She laughed. “You do, do you? Well we’ll see won’t we, when I get dad to take me to a solicitor.”

She stood and looked at him watching her as she picked up her backpack; she’d kept it close to her since coming to the building. “Anyway I’m off, is it left to the town or right when I get out of the gates?” she asked.

“I did say we’ll drop you off, Karen, you don’t have to walk.”

“You won’t. I don’t want to see any of you again. So I’ll find my own way thank you.”

She left the room and walked down to the main entrance door of the building. The security men made to stop her by one of them putting his hand on her shoulder telling her to wait there. This time her composure dropped, she snapped inside, her mind began to play tricks, making her believe he was something to do with Sirec and this man was trying to send her back.

“Take your hand off me,” she demanded.

“You’re going nowhere young lady, until I’m told different,” the man replied, with authority in his voice, confident he could hold this young girl with ease.

“I said take your hand off me, this is the last time I will ask,” she replied very softly but with aggression in her voice.

Still he ignored her.

However, before she took the next step of taking this man on, Sir Nigel caught up with her and intervened. “Leave Karen alone, just let her go. Ring the gate, tell them she can leave,” he demanded.

Karen turned to look at Sir Nigel; he could see the change in her, the wildness in her eyes.

“Tell that James of yours if he comes near me again, I’ll kill him.” Then she walked out of the door.

The security guards and Sir Nigel watched her walking down the path towards the main gate.

“These kids, they say some stupid things. Thinking she could do something like that. I blame the television and the video games. She’d run a mile if someone even said boo to her,” one security guard commented.

Sir Nigel never replied. Suddenly he’d seen another side of this girl. For nearly three days James had tried to pull this out of her and failed. Yet it only took one person to try to restrain Karen and in that second, her mask of naivety and femininity slipped, ever so slightly, but it slipped. Then he saw it in her eyes; heard it in her tone of voice. Her comment was no comment from a video game, or TV show as the security man believed. That was a direct threat from a very capable killer. Although he now knew there was nothing he could do about it. Her recorded answers gave nothing away; the others that were with her in the Lebanon were missing. Their only chance of perhaps getting at the truth would be if she was traumatised, and James’s questions had disturbed her to the point she needed counselling. But not by James, he must be warned to keep well way from her; he’d not a shadow of a doubt that Karen would almost certainly follow through with her threat, given a chance.

Karen arrived at the gate. No one said a word as she walked out. However, just outside were a few newspaper reporters hanging around, stopping and asking people going in and out if they had heard what was happening to Karen.

To say they were astonished, seeing her walk through the gate, was perhaps an underestimation. But unlike her attitude with security Karen had slipped back into her naïve young girl role.

“Hi, I don’t suppose anyone would like to give me a lift into town?” she asked.

“Very strange; what of the neighbours around here, did anyone see anything unusual?”

The sergeant shook his head. “Most were at work, the few who weren’t tend to live in the back rather than the front. No one saw or heard a thing.”

“Okay, I think I’ll visit this woman, is she in hospital or at home?”

“St Wilfred’s, ward twenty-two. There’s a policewoman outside the door.

Forty minutes later Inspector Morris entered Lucy’s room in the hospital. She was awake, but just staring ahead. He could sense the tension in the room, the fear this woman had.

“I’m Inspector Morris, Lucy. Now I know you don’t want to talk about your ordeal. Whoever it was who assaulted you threatened your children didn’t he?”

She nodded, tears beginning to trickle down her face.

“I understand. I also understand you don’t believe we can protect you and your children from him, do you?”

Again she nodded.

“Well we can, but I have to admit to do that we would need to put you and the children into a safe house until he’s caught. Whether you tell us what happened or you decide to remain silent, I recommend you don’t return to your house. The man could still come back, even if you tell us nothing he wouldn’t know that, believe me.”

She looked up at him. “I can’t help you Inspector, I won’t help you. My children are all I’ve got. You can’t expect me to risk their lives? They are so young and innocent.”

“That’s all right Lucy, but I’d like you to answer me one question, it’s nothing about what happened to you. It’s just a stab in the dark that you may be able to help me with another incident.”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Do you know, or have you heard of a girl called Karen Marshall?”

Lucy suddenly went cold, her mouth dropped open and she began to shiver. “I know of her,” she whispered.

“Was this before she was splashed across the national press?”

“No, I’d not heard of her before then. But it turns out my husband was her boyfriend. He told me this two days ago. We split up over it.”

“Thank you, Lucy. Now one more tiny question. Did your husband ever mention a Frank Whittle?”

She nodded. “He did, at the same time he told me about this Karen Marshall. It was this Whittle that introduced him to Karen.”

After thanking her once more he left the room, wandering slowly down the corridors deep in thought. Whatever was going on, someone was eradicating anybody associated with Karen’s abduction. But why, what was there to gain? After all he’d a statement from Susan and her father; there was nothing in it that would warrant him being killed? The only connection between these two incidents was Whittle, but he was dead and Karen was coming home.

Back outside he climbed into his car. Then called control for Lucy’s address. Once there he went into the room where the assault took place. Staring for a time at the drawers on the floor with their contents scattered. The line of blood told him that it was Lucy who’d gone to those drawers. She’d taken something out to give the man, but what was it?

At that moment he heard someone coming down the stairs. Going out to the hall an elderly woman was just at the bottom holding a suitcase.

“I hope you don’t mind, it’s clothes for the children? I’m Lucy’s mother.”

“No that’s fine, I’m Inspector Morris. Tell me, would you know if anything is missing from the drawers in the lounge?”

She followed him in and went carefully through the items, then looked up. “The address book isn’t here. Lucy normally leaves it in one of these drawers.”

“I see. Do you have other children?”

“No Inspector, Lucy is our only child. Grant, her husband has a sister in London. I’m not sure where she lives, as his part of the family never communicates with us. His mother would know, she lives in Marple, on some farm. I can give you her address, if you’d care to come back to my house?”