Concrete Evidence (37 page)

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“Major Investigation Team, DS Stirling speaking.”

“Sarge, I’m in trouble.” Becky whispered. “I’ve been kidnapped!” she said feeling very frightened and a little bit stupid. She didn’t feel as if she had said it in the right way but then how should she have said it? In the end, she had just blurted out. “Can you hear me, Sarge?”

“Is that you, Becky?” Jim Stirling said yawning. He rubbed his eyes and sat back in the chair confused by what she had said.

“Yes, it’s me!” she whispered. “I’ve been kidnapped, Sarge.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I’m not joking around, I’m serious. I was zapped with something, a Taser I think, maybe a cattle prod but the bastard got me from behind.” She began to ramble. Just knowing that her sergeant was on the end of the call made her feel better. It gave her hope. “I thought that I heard something behind me but when I looked around I couldn’t see anyone.”

“Slow down, Becky,” Stirling sat forward and frowned. He waved a hand at Annie and summoned her over. Sensing that something was happening, some of the other detectives followed her and listened in. “Where are you, Becky?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m in the back of a van,” she said meekly. “God, I feel so bloody stupid!”

“What’s going on?” Annie asked. She could tell by the expression on Sterling’s face that something untoward was happening.

“It’s Becky, Guv,” he covered the mouthpiece. “She says that she’s been kidnapped.” Stirling pointed to another handset and gestured for her to pick it up and press the party line. Annie heard it click and connect. “The DI is on the line, Becky,” he said calmly. “Now take a deep breath, calm down and tell us exactly what has happened.”

Becky closed her eyes and took a breath. She released it slowly and explained in a whisper. “I drove home and when I was putting the key in the door, someone whacked me from behind,” she paused. “He Tasered me I think.”

“Jesus,” Annie said. She was concerned and equally confused. “Where are you calling from?”

“Your mobile, Guv,” she said embarrassed. “I must have picked it up from the desk by mistake. Sorry, Guv.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Annie shook her head. Putting her hand over the mouthpiece, she turned to one of her team. “Get a trace on my phone now!” he turned and ran to his desk. “Where are you now, Becky?”

“I’m in the back of a white van. At least it’s white inside but I have no idea what make or model it is.”

“Did you see your attacker?”

“No,” Becky said frustrated. “I felt a whack from behind and the next thing I know I was tied up in the back of this van.”

“You’ve broken free?”

“Yes, Guv.”

“Good girl,” Annie said shaking her fist. “Are you hurt?”

“A few cuts and bruises but I’m okay.”

“That’s good. Have you got any idea how long you have been in there?”

“Not really,” Becky thought out loud. “I reckon it took me twenty minutes to cut the tape off.”

“Was the van travelling the entire time?”

“Yes.”

Annie covered the mouthpiece again. “Forty mile radius to begin with.” Her detectives nodded. “Okay,” Annie said thoughtfully. “Becky, Is there anything that you can use as a weapon?”

“I’ve got a piece of angled iron in my hand,” Becky gripped it tightly. “I used it to cut my feet free. It’s heavy enough to do some damage.”

“Good. Keep hold of it. Can you tell if you’re in the city or moving away from it?” Annie asked.

“I don’t really know.”

“Is the van travelling at a constant speed or is it stop starting?”

“Constant.”

“Hold on there, Becky,” Annie said. She turned to look at Stirling. “Let’s check how long it will take to get the trace on my phone immediately,” she paused, “and get an alert to traffic on the main motorways out of the city, M62, M6, M56, M57 and get armed response here and in all the surrounding counties on standby.”

“Guv,” Stirling said calling over another detective who was listening. “And get a list of all vans that have been stolen in the last week. Let’s start with white vans for now.”

“Yes, Sarge.”

“Becky,” Stirling spoke slowly, “is there anything in the back of the van?”

“Yes,” she muttered looking around. “There’s a washing machine and some metal bars, some golf clubs and boxes full of crap. I didn’t want to move around too much in case he hears me.”

“Have you checked the doors?”

“Of course I have,” Becky said frustrated. “I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not, Becky but I need to ask. We need to understand everything that is happening to help you, okay,” Stirling calmed her. “I want you to find something hard enough to jimmy the bottom of the doors, okay?” A beep interrupted the line. “What was that?”

“The battery,” Annie said. “My phone was nearly dead. I meant to charge it. How many bars have you got, Becky?”

Becky felt a lump in her throat as she looked at the screen. “Less than two.”

“We’ve got at least fifteen minutes, Becky,” Annie said. “That’s more than enough time for us to find out where you are, okay?”

“Okay. Are you running a trace?”

“Yes,” Annie said. “We’ll have a lock on it before the battery runs out.”

“Okay.”

“Becky,” Stirling said, “you said there were metal bars in the van?”

“Yes. I think they’re old railings or something.”

“Good. Grab one and stand near the back doors.”

“Okay,” Becky gasped. She crawled to the bars that she had felt earlier and picked them up to gauge their weight and density. One of them was heavier than the others. She picked it up and shuffled towards the doors. “Okay, I’m at the doors.”

“Good,” Stirling said. “The door with the handle on is the weak point. Try and slide the metal between the bottom of the door and the van. I want you to bend the corner open if you can.”

“I’ll try,” Becky whispered. “I’ll have to put the phone down a minute, okay?”

“Okay. I need you to force the bar in as far as you can and the pull back as hard as you can.”

Becky hesitated before putting the phone down. She didn’t want to stop talking but she knew that she had to. Kneeling down close to the door, she placed the bar at the bottom of the door and pressed her weight on it. The door moved a few millimetres from the van but not enough to wedge the metal between them. She wiggled it and tried again but it wouldn’t budge. “Shit!” she hissed and picked up the Blackberry. “I can’t get it in, I feel so bloody useless,” she said close to tears.

Annie sensed the panic in her voice. “Take a breath, Becky. Jim seems to forget that we’re not all built like a brick outhouse,” she smiled and felt Becky relax a little. “Put your foot against the bottom of the door and try again. Take your time.”

“Okay.” Becky sounded determined. She placed the phone on the floor and put her foot against the corner of the door. She could see light between the narrowest of gaps and she forced the bar a couple inches into it. Becky pulled back with all her strength and the corner of the door buckled an inch. Fresh air streamed into the van and she could hear the sound of traffic. She forced the bar even further into the gap and then she pulled backwards using all her weight to jimmy the door. The gap widened to six inches and she pulled again. Her hands slipped off the bar and she fell backwards clattering into the box of plates. The metal bar sprang back against the door with an almighty clang.

The van slowed immediately. Becky held her breath. She heard him turn the music down as the vehicle slowed to a steady pace. She felt the van move across a lane and prayed that he didn’t pull over and stop. She could hear her own breathing and the blood pounding through her head was deafening. She lay perfectly still, frozen in fear. The driver had slowed down but the van was still moving. Becky felt for the Blackberry blindly but all she touched was cold metal. She reached further to her right and her fingers brushed against the phone. She felt the van accelerate again and the driver turned the music up to its previous volume.

Becky breathed a sigh of relief and put the phone to her ear. “Guv,” she whispered. She waited for a reply. “Sarge, are you there?” Nothing. “Guv!” she whispered louder. Nothing. “Sarge, can you hear me?” She looked at the screen and her breath stuck in her throat. She felt tears forming in her eyes. “Oh no!” It was cracked from one side to the other. The keyboard was crushed and an impression of a shoeprint was stamped across it. The only sign of life was a dull green glow from behind the fractured screen. “Oh, no!” Becky hissed. Her heart felt like it would punch its way through her chest. She felt that she was about to vomit. “Oh, God no!” Her mind was racing as she thought about what she had done. She thought that the phone trace might have been completed but it was just as likely that it hadn’t. She wondered if the sim was still traceable even after a donkey had cracked the screen. She felt useless and helpless in equal measures. A twist of fate had given her a lifeline, which she would be eternally grateful for. Squashing it wasn’t in the plan. She covered her eyes with her hands and stifled a sob. “Get a grip, Rebecca,” she whispered to herself. She couldn’t afford to break now. She had to be strong. “Pull yourself together and do something.”

Becky thought back to the phone call. Jim Stirling wanted her to bend the bottom of the door. He hadn’t said why precisely but she had to assume that it was to make it stand out from all the other vans on the motorway. She had to attract attention to the van. She wasn’t sure if the buckled door would work quickly enough. She knew that the DI would have alerted the traffic division but no one had a clue which motorway she was on or in which direction she was being taken. She might not even be on a motorway; there were plenty of dual carriageways encircling the city. She could be on any number or them. The sergeant wanted her to attract attention to the van and that’s what she intended to do.        

                              CHAPTER 41

Becky reached behind her and grabbed the golf bag. She put her hand into the pocket and took out the three golf balls. Crawling back to the door, she leaned towards the gap and dropped one of the balls through it. She didn’t see it hit the Tarmac but she knew that it would bounce across carriageways causing havoc with oncoming vehicles. She listened for a reaction but none came. Becky dropped the other two onto the road and waited. She heard a horn blaring and lights flashed but the van maintained its speed.

Becky reached into the bag and grabbed the clubs. She didn’t know much about golf but she recognised them as irons. She took one and slid it through the gap. She heard it clatter on the road followed quickly by a series of horns blasting. Her heart began to beat faster. She could see lights flashing off the bumper; the traffic behind was reacting angrily. Angry isn’t enough, she thought. She needed them to be so livid that they picked up their telephones and called the police. Becky reached for a second golf club and she slid it through the gap and let it go. It clattered from the back of the van and was greeted by more horn blasts. When she dropped the third club, the reaction intensified further. This time the drivers behind seemed incensed. The horn blasts were continuous. She clapped her hands together in joy and looked around for another potential missile to launch through the gap.

When the van slowed quickly and veered to the left, her delight waned to be replaced with fear. “Shit, shit, shit!” she shouted as the vehicle slowed to half its speed. The music was silenced and she felt a layer of perspiration form on her chest and back. She gripped the piece of angle iron in her right hand and sat down behind the door. She closed her eyes and took a breath and steeled herself for the fight that would come. When her kidnapper opened the back doors, she would pounce like a scorched wild cat. She swallowed hard and realised how thirsty she was. She thought about what she would give for a drink of ice cold water. She thought it was odd to feel so relaxed and yet be totally ready to fight to the death. Maybe she was resigned to her fate? If her attacker had a firearm, she would probably die. She knew that he had a Taser or similar but that didn’t matter right now. The angle iron was heavy and it was sharp at one end. She was trained in unarmed combat by the police. Her Krav Maga lessons drifted through her mind in a blur.
Strike for the weak areas, the eyes, throat and testicles.
She would do that with every ounce of strength in her body until her breath stopped coming. She wouldn’t let him take her life cheaply.

Suddenly, the van picked up speed quickly. She was thrown backwards and had to hold on tight. She heard horns blasting violently, long sustained blaring from three or four different vehicles. The van swerved and increased speed again. He was panicking. Becky squeezed the metal bar with both hands, closed her eyes and listened to what was happening outside. She could hear the tyres on the road. She could hear rainwater splashing beneath the van as it accelerated to full speed.

Becky decided to maintain the pressure. She grabbed the basket of curtains and scrambled to the back doors again. She screwed up the top piece of material. It felt like a curtain. She fed it through the gap inch by inch and let it flap wildly in the slipstream. She heard horns blasting in response as it was ripped from her grasp. The next piece felt like a cotton bed sheet. It fell through the gap with ease and she felt it billowing to full width before she let it go. Lights flashed and the van swerved violently to the left. Becky stumbled backwards and landed on her elbows with a sickening thud. “Bastard!” she shouted at the top of her voice. She struggled to her feet and banged her fists on the bulkhead. “You have no idea how much shit you’re in!” she hammered her fists against the cold metal. The driver chose not reply but he responded by swerving sharply to the left. Becky was thrown against the side of the van cracking her head against the washing machine. “Fuck you!” she screamed. She felt the van lurch forward again as the driver pushed the engine to the limits. Warm blood trickled down the side of her face. She touched a deep gash on her forehead and felt tears of frustration filling her eyes. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” she shouted as she slammed her fists against the metal. “There is no way I’m giving up,” she whispered in the dark.