Suffer the Torment, page 20
Roy said to Sarah, “I’ll go with Melissa, you stay with the girl.” Sarah agreed, and Roy left with Melissa.
“I can drive if you direct me,” Roy said. Melissa hesitated for a while, then realised Roy’s car was outside the gates already. She got in the passenger side and gave Roy directions. They got to the bus stop, and the teenage boy was visible soon, standing at the stop. As Melissa got Jack in the car, Roy had a look around. The road was sloping down the hill, and a few cars went past him. Behind the bus stop there was a steep fall that ended in rocks and bush. He took out his radio.
“He went downhill from Sir William Hill Road. No other way he could’ve gone.”
Inspector Jonty Adams, the uniformed officer leading the search, spoke on the channel. “That road leads to Eyam Moor. Straight down it’s Foolow and Bretton, small villages. He can’t be far. The main road is the A623, further down south. I think he’ll head down there if he’s in the car. No other way around here.”
“Put roadblocks where this road joins the A623. Let’s make sure he doesn’t end up there. If he’s here, he can’t hide for long.”
CHAPTER 48
James Ridpath had decided not to ditch his car. He knew about the Automatic Number Plate Recognition System, or ANPR, and his car’s reg would flash up on the screens of any police car passing within ten metres. He couldn’t just leave it in some bush and hope for the best. The car would bear incriminating evidence because Emma had been in it. He had wiped the back seats clean, but there was every chance that traces of DNA remained. He also needed the car to make his escape later. Or maybe not. Any patrolling police car in the motorways could get him on ANPR.
He had enough camping gear packed in the back precisely for a day like this when he would have to up sticks and leave with no notice. In the back of his mind, he had known a day like this would come. He had hoped to make this escape with Emma, and they had made plans, in better days.
As he sat there, slouched in the driver’s seat, memories clouded his mind. No one would understand their age-gap romance. As Emma said, if she was in her twenties, and he was in his fifties, then that was acceptable. Then why not now, when she was seventeen? What difference would a few years make. Her logic was impeccable, as always.
They had to escape, and the first step would be to go on a wild camping trip. Out in the heather and gorse of the raw mountains, under the windswept stars. They would walk and use public transport all the way to Dover, because cars could be caught. Use cash, of which he had a wad with him now. From there, to France, and then fade in Spain. No one would find them again.
James heard a car in the distance, and he flinched. Leaves covered him, the greenery around him so thick, it had literally stopped the car from moving. This was an old woodcutter’s path; one he had discovered while running. It was wide enough for a horse drawn cart, although overgrown now. It was also not visible from the road. He had to mount the verge, and drive into the woods before he found the opening. He got out of his car and used fallen branches to get rid of the tyre tracks from the road, then driven deeper into the forest, till he found the track.
He hoped and prayed no one would find him here. He just had to bide his time and check the situation again after dark. The one thing he didn’t have much of was food. In the camping gear he had some pasta and canned sauces, but he needed to cook that. He didn’t want to start a fire here. Worst case scenario, he descended further into Eyam Moor, and pitched camp overnight. He had to move in the morning, because if the police didn’t find his car, they would come searching here.
He took out his burner phone and checked. No messages which was good. He didn’t want to check his main phone. He had only kept it for the photos of the children. James wound the windows down and listened.
It was very quiet now. An occasional bird chirped. Far in the distance a car engine whined away. There was nothing close by. He was cramped in the seat, and slowly got out, then stretched. He looked around and saw nothing but trees and vegetation. He was on the side of a long, flat hill, and it rolled gently down to the moors at the bottom of the valley. He stepped away from the car, his eyes searching.
It was then he saw it. A flicker of bright, lime green, moving through the trees. A figure in a high visibility jacket. He saw it again, two men moving through the trees. Heart thumping loudly, James threw himself to the ground. He scrambled along the grass, scraping his palms as he got to the car. He managed to open the boot and take out his backpack with the essentials. He had to leave the car here. He could reverse all the way out, but the police would chase him, and might even have set up roadblocks.
No, he had a better chance of hiding in the woods till nightfall. Let them find the car. He would be long gone. James went to the edge of the clearing, staying as close to the ground as possible. He rested against a tree trunk, watching the dense forest now all around him. His breath came in gasps. He hadn’t seen any more high-visibility jackets, which was good. He took his compass out and mapped out a route. He had to keep going northwest, higher up into the Peak District, then cut across towards Manchester. Five days hike, at least, but he’d mapped this route out in advance.
The sound of a twig snapping made him freeze. He whirled around. Three figures stood there, staring at him. A woman and two men, all of them police. One of the men, taller than the others, flicked open an extendable baton, and advanced towards him. At that moment, James Ridpath knew he had nowhere left to go.
CHAPTER 49
He heard the sound a second later. It was a soft thump, like someone, or something, stepping on the ground. It was close by, and behind him. He whirled around, but there was nothing. He had moved a few feet away from the car, and he realised that was a mistake. He rushed back but heard the sound again. This time, it was behind him again, and for that to happen, someone had moved around. James didn’t bother to check. He got to his car, and with a sigh of relief, reached for the door.
He sensed movement behind him, and in the split second he registered that, an explosion of pain slammed against his left ear. His eyes dimmed as his body sagged against the side of the car. The pain came again, a red-hot ball of screaming agony, pitching him into blackness.
*****
A dead weight seemed to press over James’s head. His eyes flickered open. Instantly, pain echoed around his skull, shook his spine. He groaned and tried to shift. Pain held his limbs prisoner, and his arms wouldn’t obey his brain’s command. He tried to open his eyes again, and the pain was worse. But this time, he could see. The yellow glare of the headlights hurt his eyes, but the view made him almost forget the crushing agony in his head. A man stood in front of the car, lit up by the headlights. At first, James thought he was seeing things. He had to blink to make sure it was real.
It was a reindeer. No, it was a man, because it had a man’s legs. For some reason, the man had a reindeer, or a stag deer’s head. As he watched with spellbound eyes, squinting against the pain, the figure moved. It walked on two legs and came up to the car. The driver’s door opened, and the strange reindeer head got closer. It was terrifying, and James screamed, then tried to move. That’s when he realised he was tied to the car seat. He couldn’t free his hands. Coils of rope tied his hands and feet.
James tried to bend to the side, but the pain was immense, almost driving him to unconsciousness. He couldn’t move, and when he shouted, his voice was a whisper.
“Who … who are you?”
“I’m the Master,” the reindeer said. “We meet at last.”
Even through the mist of pain and nausea, fear grabbed James’s spine. He wondered if this was all a horrible dream, and he had died. Was this hell? Surely hell couldn’t be any worse than this. The disgusting reindeer head moved close to his and James screamed and fought against his ropes. It was no use. He sobbed, head hanging on chest.
“That’s it,” the reindeer said. “Let it all out. Let the blood and tears flow.” After a pause, the animal with the human voice spoke again.
“You tried to take Emma from me. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Now both of you are going to be reset.”
James didn’t know what on earth this strange creature was saying, and he didn’t care. He heard the sound of ripping clothes and felt a tug on his arm. His eyes flew open in alarm. The man was kneeling now, and all he could see was that animal head bobbing up and down. It was so unnatural, so utterly unreal, that James felt sick, bile rising up into his throat. But even more frightening was the sharp knife slicing through his clothes, eventually exposing the skin on his right forearm.
“Gloria,” the animal head whispered. “How much I miss you.”
Before James could make any sense of it, the knife was ripping into his flesh, and he was screaming in pain, eyes bulging out as the veins engorged on his neck.
CHAPTER 50
After Roy got back to the house, he asked Melissa’s permission to have a quick look upstairs, in the converted loft where James had his office. With Sarah, he went upstairs. The office was well decorated, with bookshelves on the walls, and a large wooden table that overlooked long windows offering spectacular views down the valley.
“No wonder he saw us coming,” Sarah said. “Like an eagle’s nest up here.”
Roy put his gloves on and gingerly opened a couple of the desk drawers. Apart from papers and folders he didn’t find much. Sarah looked in the chest of drawers, while Roy searched in the shelves, between the books. In an ideal world, a knife would be hidden somewhere. But they found nothing.
“He’s taken the laptop but left the charger behind.” Sarah was kneeling on the floor and picked up the black cable.
They searched carefully, not wanting to disturb the work of Scene of Crime when they arrived later. No wallet, phone, or other personal items were visible, and they went downstairs shortly.
Melissa was waiting for them. She came out of the kitchen and shut the door behind her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was working hard to hold herself together.
“I need to protect my children. They go to school tomorrow. The neighbours are going to be asking questions, their kids go to the same school as mine.” She folded her hands across her chest. “What do I do if he comes back?”
Roy said, “We’ll have a Family Liaison Officer here very soon. She will stay the night, if you want her to. We will also do patrols at night, and we’re always a phone call away.” He gave her his card, and so did Sarah.
“Call us any time,” Sarah said. “If we have any updates, we will share them with you.”
They said goodbye and went out. Pickering was outside, speaking to Inspector Jonty Adams. Adams nodded at them.
“No sign of the car as yet. We’ve got the reg number and using ANPR. If it’s around here, we’ll find it.”
“My worry is that he’s a local and he’ll know country lanes here that aren’t on the map, and lead into the moors. Eyam Moor is big, if we lose him there, then it’s hard.”
“He’s got to have a tent and camping gear to survive out there,” Adams said. “Maybe he’s got that. Or maybe he’s just biding his time somewhere, waiting to give us the slip. If he gets bogged down in the moors, we’ll find him sooner or later.”
Sarah looked at Roy, and so did Adams and Pickering. He flicked his eyes from Sarah to Adams. He pressed his lips together. It was decision time.
“Alright. We need the ANPR recognition of his car, so let’s have more uniform teams on the roads. I’m going to ask for a helicopter as well, or maybe a couple of drones over Eyam Moor, and anywhere else you think is necessary. I suggest the teams remain here to search, but we go back to the nick and have a meeting at the MIR. I need to call in help from Derbyshire Police as well.” Most of the Peak District lay within Derbyshire, but the border between Sheffield and Derbyshire was a fluid one.
Roy got back in the car with Sarah. He asked her to drive down to the bus stop where Melissa picked up Jack from. Sir William Hill Road stretched down to the valley, to the heart of the Peak District. The road curved around, revealing the Don Valley in all its glory; greyish clouds kissing the green hills, then wrapping their white tendrils around them. A brook sparkled down the hill, dashing up against the rocks. At the bottom, the road levelled out into a dense forest, trees hanging over the road like guardians of a forbidden land, obscuring the light. Roy peered at the mossy, rocky ground, and the close crop of tall trees on both sides.
“How could he hide a car in there?”
“He might know a dirt track somewhere. We’ve passed a few already, they’re not easy to spot when driving past. He might wait till nightfall before making his move.”
They came upon a squad car that had set up a temporary roadblock at the junction the with the main A623. A uniformed sergeant leaned over Sarah’s window.
“No sign of him as yet. Five of our lads are in the forest now, but it’s a big area to cover.”
“Air support on its way. We got drones as well, I hear. Nothing but the best for you lot,” Roy said. The sergeant grinned and waved as they drove away. Roy called the Helicopter Service, and was assured one would be scrambled shortly, and he would be informed. He gave them the car’s details, and James Ridpath’s description. Then he rang Dobson, as it was forensics that organised the drone service.
“Don’t ask for much, do yer?” Dobson exclaimed. “Put an egg under your cap, like.”
“Better than egg on my face, I guess,” Roy said. “Can you please sort the drones? They’ll be quicker, and maybe more effective than the chopper.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Short-staffed now, got two armed robberies, and I’m on scene now. Will deal with it as soon as I get back.”
Roy hung up and checked his personal phone. Anna had left two messages. One of them was a selfie with her sticking her tongue out at the camera, which made him grin, despite the stress of the moment. Anna did things that made the years melt away, and she was a little child again. Well, she would always be his little girl.
“What’s so funny?” Sarah asked. They were leaving the ring of hills behind, and approaching Dore, the first village in southwest Sheffield.
“Anna.” He turned the camera to her, and Sarah grinned. “Bet she wanted to do that for a while.”
“Apparently, I’m very embarrassing,” Roy said. “But it’s not me sticking my tongue out, is it?” He checked his watch. Anna was an hour and a half away. He would be in time to pick her up, he hoped, unless something happened.
*****
Major Incident Room 1, or MIR 1 was packed. Roy faced six rows of chair, all of which were occupied. At the back, photocopiers and fax machines sat silent on desks. Behind Roy, there was a projector screen, and Emma’s face was shown next to her supine body on the warehouse floor. Below that was James Ridpath’s face.
The door opened and Nugent came in, with another taller man Roy hadn’t seen before. The man wore a uniform, and the colours on his jacket breast signified him as a senior officer.
“This is Chief Constable Beadle,” Nugent said, introducing them. Beadle had sparse, silvery hair, and thin, gaunt cheeks. He wore a pair of slim spectacles and seemed more like a professor than the leader of Yorkshire Police. His eyes were dark and glittery, and they gazed at Roy intensely before he offered him a tight-lipped smile. Roy nodded and got back to the task at hand.
He pointed at James Ridpath. “He is now our main suspect, and he’s on the run. We should be able to get him soon. Consider him to be armed and dangerous. If he’s killed a teenager, he can kill an adult. No PCNs, and no previous contact with the forces.” Roy looked at his team, and they nodded.
“Which only means any of his misdemeanours weren’t reported,” he carried on. “As you know, most victims of abuse maintain their silence. Now he knows the game is up. His photo and details have been sent to the internal database, so please check it if you come across anyone who matches his description. Needless to say, this remains top secret, and do not speak to the media under any circumstance.”
Melanie raised a hand. “All the parents were informed of Emma’s death today. Our helpline is inundated with calls from worried parents.”
Karen Rose, the Medial Liaison Officer, was sat on the first row. She spoke up. “We’ve kept it from social media, so far. But it’s only a matter of time before one of the parents makes a mention, and some journalist picks it up. We need to make an announcement today. Do we mention the suspect as well? We need witnesses to come forward.”
There was a hubbub of low voices across the room. Roy was about to speak, but he looked across at Beadles, and the man cleared his throat. The room fell silent.
“Mentioning the suspect now will be cannon fodder for the tabloids,” Beadle said. “He’s the headmaster, and there’s going to be an uproar. We can announce the victim, but we keep the school’s name, and the suspect out of the picture for now.”
He turned to Roy and indicated for him to carry on. Roy said, “A chopper’s up there already, and two drones will shortly be operational. We will do our best to find him before nightfall. The Ridpath residence will be guarded overnight in case he returns. We also need a heavy presence around the school, and around Emma’s Street, in the community.”
Nugent said, “What’s happening with suspects in custody now?”
The satisfaction on Nugent’s face was plain. Roy ground his teeth together and allowed himself a humourless smile.
“Thanks to the team’s hard work, we had a couple of suspects from yesterday. Unfortunately, one of the suspects was the target of an NCA surveillance operation. We had to let him go this morning, without charge. The other remains in custody and will be questioned.”
“But we will not charge him, as we don’t want to disrupt the NCA operation,” Nugent said, practically beaming. “It was a mistake, but we all make them, don’t we, DCI Roy?”
