Threats at Three (29 page)

JACK SR. HAD COVERED ABOUT EIGHT MILES ON FOOT, HE RECKONED. He was crossing fields and woods, dashing illegally over railway lines and cursing as he made a detour in order to cross a precarious footbridge over a disused canal.

He looked at his map again. If he was lucky, he could be back in his hut by nightfall. He intended to waste no time, and during his long trek across country had made a plan. The most likely time to find his target would be early in the morning. He knew he was gambling on the likelihood of the villain doing Jack Jr. no harm until then, but on balance it was safer than busting in late at night with all guns blazing and causing a knee-jerk reaction.

The light was going by the time he reached the Farnden woods, and with his old hat pulled well down over his face he made his way towards his hut. He did not go straight to it, but made a wide detour around the parkland to check there were no police cars waiting for him. He had skirted the edge of the park and now plunged into the spinney of poplars planted within sight of the drive up to the hall. Nearly there, he said to himself. He planned to have a few hours sleep, then start off towards Tresham at dawn, before the day began.

Suddenly he stopped short, instinctively squatting down on his haunches. Something was hurtling down the sloping approach to the house. It was bright red, driven by a helmeted figure gripping the steering wheel, and, as he watched, it crashed with a shout from the driver into a holly bush planted near the turn into the stable yard.

He stood up and ran like a hare. He pushed his way through the thicket and at last stood, scratched and breathing heavily, at the door of his hut. Good God, what on earth was it? Some new toy of the police—heat-seeking night-vision vehicle? But why bright red? He sat down on the pile of sacks that did duty as a chair and put his head in his hands. “Oh, young Jack, what have I done? Dear God, don’t let him be hurt before I get there. Please.”

 

 

“NO HARM DONE,” LAUGHED MRS. T-J, AS LOIS AND DOUGLAS came running to where she had landed.

Douglas helped her to her feet, and quickly examined
Jam & Jerusalem
. “Not a scratch,” he said.

“Thank goodness for that,” Lois said. “Josie would kill us if she had to do it all again.”

“But did you see how fast she went?” said Mrs. T-J, taking off her helmet. “My goodness, it was most exhilarating! She must have been doing at least fifty miles an hour, Douglas!”

He grinned indulgently. “More like twenty,” he said. “It probably felt like more. Tony Dibson said the secret is in the weight. There’s no rules about how heavy it’s got to be. So we can put a few lumps of rock in with you on the day.”

“Lumps of rock!” Mrs. T-J colored with indignation. “There are a couple of blocks of Carrara marble in the potting shed. Been there since that dreadful woman came to sculpt my dear husband’s head. Looked nothing like him. I put him in the cellar, and the blocks of marble—which we purchased at great cost—were left over. Awful mistake. But they’ll be just the thing. Rocks, indeed! Nothing but the best for
Jam & Jerusalem
! If my gardener returns, I’ll get him to carry them.”

When the soap box had been safely stowed away in a stable and covered with an old horse blanket, Lois and Douglas set off to walk back to the village. “Notice she didn’t offer us a lift back,” said Douglas glumly. “Just as well I don’t actually have to be back early. Why did you say that during the meeting, Mum?”

“To change the subject. Stop the gossip about Jack Jr. Mind you, nothing I can say will stop it. But I need to find out a couple of things before I can speak with authority. I am his mother’s boss, and people are bound to think I know more than I’m telling.”

“And do you?” said Douglas.

Lois did not answer, and they walked on in silence. As they reached the edge of the village, Lois said casually, “By the way, Douglas, you know when our mad woman driver was out of control in a jar of jam? Well, did you notice anything over by the hedge at the side of the park?”

“What do you mean, Mum?”

“I thought I saw a shadowy figure moving along the hedge. It stopped when she crashed, and I looked away. When I looked back again it had gone.”

“Could’ve been a fox,” Douglas said, getting into his car. “I thought I heard a vixen barking in the wood when we came away. Anyway, I must be going. Susie will wonder where I’ve gone. All going well, so I’ll see you on the day. Bye, Mum.” He pecked her cheek and was gone.

J
ACK JR. HAD HARDLY SLEPT. THE GROANS AND YELLS COMING from the rest of the house frightened him so much that he lay curled up in a ball under the smelly duvet with his fingers in his ears. A glimmer of light showed through the filthy windows. There had been curtains once, but they had been reduced to rags hanging in strips. It didn’t matter. The dirt was so thick on the windows that nobody could see in or out.

“Wake up, kid!” The man’s harsh voice pierced through Jack’s defences, and he sat up, shrinking away from the looming figure. “Come on, we’re going on a visit. Here, take this. You can eat it on the way.”

“Where’re we going? I want to go home. If you don’t take me soon, they’ll be on to you and you’ll wish you had.”

“Persistent little sod, aren’t you?” The man took hold of Jack by his shoulder and pushed him out of the room, down the rotting stairs and out of a door at the back of the house. The early morning was cold and clear, and Jack saw the familiar scruffy van. Once more he was pushed into the back, and in seconds he was on the road, having no idea where he was going. He began to eat the stale sandwich and said to himself that at least he had more chance of escape from this old wreck on the move, than from that locked room. For all the man’s bluster, Jack reckoned he was not very bright. “Me against him,” he muttered, and swallowed hard. The sandwich was disgusting, but he had to keep up his strength.

 

 

LOIS STARED AT THE TELEPHONE IN HER OFFICE, TRYING TO decide whether or not to ring Cowgill. She knew from Mrs. T-J that Hickson had gone into hiding again, and whether or not he had taken his son with him, the police would need urgently to find him. She had already told Cowgill all she knew about Jack Sr., but she still did not know where he was living. Working, yes, and there had been that shadow lurking round the park. If Cowgill had already been up there to look around for him, he might have spotted him. But had he? It was a question of relying on police efficiency, or ringing Cowgill to make sure. She dialled his number.

Chris answered. “Hello, Lois,” she said. “Did you want Mr. Cowgill? Oh, dear, he’s gone to the dentist. Said he’d be out all morning. No, they don’t allow mobiles in the dentist’s. Can I give him a message when he comes back, or can I help? Is it something to do with young Jack Hickson’s disappearance?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chris. I’ll catch him later. Any news on Jack Jr.?”

“Nothing definite. We’ve got just about every man in the force on to it, and nationwide as well. It won’t be long before we find him. How’s his mum holding up?”

“Not too well. I’m going round there now. Bye.”

Paula opened the door at once. Lois could see she’d had no sleep and been crying a lot. There were big dark circles under her eyes and her skin was blotchy. She was holding baby Frankie, and Lois could see the twins in the kitchen, sitting at the table eating cereal and looking solemn.

“Shouldn’t they be at school?” Lois said to Paula, as they walked through and the twins said hello.

Paula shook her head. “Not until they’ve found Jack,” she said shakily. “I’m not letting them, any of them, out of my sight. Sorry I can’t do the work at the moment, Mrs. M.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Paula,” Lois said. “Of course you can’t. But I’m sure you’ll soon have him back and we can all get on with life. Have you had any news, or thought of anything else to tell that might help?”

Paula shook her head. “No, nothing,” she said.

Well, now there was something she could tell Paula. “Jack Sr. has gone missing, too,” she said. “Mrs. T-J said last night that he didn’t turn up for work yesterday morning. You’ve not seen or heard anything?”

Paula shook her head. “Mind you,” she said, “I’m not surprised. With his picture all over the papers, he’s not likely to hang around here. He’d be suspect number one, wouldn’t he?”

“Do you think he’s got Jack?”

Paula shrugged. “In a way,” she said, “I hope he has. He’d not harm him. I’m really certain about that. Probably just doing it to scare me. And if he has got him, he’s dug himself into an even deeper hole than he was in already. Abducting a child is a real crime, the stupid idiot.”

The doorbell rang, and Paula started. “Go on,” said Lois, “answer it. I’m here.”

“Oh, hello, Paula. I hope I’m not intruding. I just came to say . . . well, you know . . .”

Lois knew the voice. It was Kate Adstone, and Paula returned with her visitor following close behind. “Morning, Mrs. Meade,” Kate said. “I just came . . .”

“Quite right, too,” Lois said. “The more support Paula gets the better. Is there another coffee in the pot, Paula?”

Their conversation ranged over every subject except that of missing Jack Jr., and then they fell silent. Lois waited. Surely something useful would come up.

“I was thinking about them early days, when we both worked at Froot’s Builders,” Paula said finally to Kate. “They were carefree compared to this, weren’t they. Always having a laugh with the girls.”

“Too right,” Kate said with feeling. “Me a personal assistant in the office, and weren’t you—?”

“I worked in the canteen,” Paula said. “It was a good job. I liked it there, except when the boss came round, feeling up all the girls. Old Greasy, we used to call him. Luckily he didn’t appear often. No, it was a good job and some nice people worked there.”

“Old Greasy!” Kate said, and laughed nervously. “My God, I remember him. He interviewed me for the job. You were lucky. I saw him most days, and I must say I couldn’t get away from there fast enough. Gavin worked there, too. . . .” Her face closed up, and she looked at her watch.

“I must go,” Lois said quickly. “I’ll leave you girls to have a chat. Cecilia at playgroup? You’ve got plenty of time, Kate, and I know Paula is glad of the company.”

After she left, she crossed the road and went into the shop.

“Hi, Mum,” Josie said. “What’s new?”

“Nothing much, unfortunately,” Lois said. “D’you mind if I lurk for a minute or two? I just want to check on when Kate leaves Paula Hickson.”

“For God’s sake, why? Aren’t you carrying the sleuth bit a trifle too far?”

The door opened and the vicar came in. Lois nodded to him, and then pretended to look at the notice board by the window.

“Dreadful business, Mrs. Meade,” Father Rodney said. “I pray to God that the child will be returned safely very soon.”

“And so do we all,” said Lois sharply.

The vicar shook his head sadly, and muttered something about moving in mysterious ways. Then he collected up a basket of shopping and took it to Josie. “Are we all ready for the big soap box day?” he said.

“Most of us think it should be cancelled,” Josie said. “You couldn’t put your heart into it, could you?”

“Not long to go,” Father Rodney said. “But I’m sure we’ll have good news before then.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Lois said. “So glad you’re sure.”

After he had gone, Josie turned on her mother. “You were a bit sharp! Poor bloke’s only doing his job. And anyway, maybe he’s right. I reckon a miracle would be just what we need at the moment.”

Lois was suitably chastened, and said that probably the most useful thing was that Kate Adstone was still with Paula Hickson, and in her opinion that was worth more than a fistful of prayers.

 

 

THE VAN STOPPED AT LAST, AND JACK JR. BLINKED AT THE LIGHT as the man opened the doors at the back.

“Get out,” he said.

“Where are we?”

“Never you mind, just get out!”

“I’ve got cramp. Can’t move.”

The man advanced on him. He took him by one ear and dragged him out of the van and on to a rutted track. “Cramp all gone?” he said, and laughed. “You don’t fool me, little Jack Horner! Good at deceiving yer teachers and your mum, aren’t you? But I know you from way back. Lying little toad then and still are. Now, get going. We’ve got a long way to go.”

 

KATE ADSTONE FINALLY LEFT PAULA AND HURRIED TO THE PLAYGROUP to collect Cecilia. Like every other mother in the village, she couldn’t feel at ease until her toddler was safely cuddled in her arms. There were still police patrolling, knocking on doors and stopping people in the street. It occurred to Kate that even if the kidnapper had thoughts of returning Jack, he, or she, was unlikely to bring him back with this lot all around. More likely the boy would be dumped. Alive, Kate wished fervently.