No Going Back (28 page)

Strictly speaking, it was no longer anything to do with Daniel – it was police business now, and he was reliant on updates from Tom – but you couldn't switch off caring just like that. His life might have turned out quite differently if he
had
been able to, he thought wryly.

Not that he hadn't got problems enough of his own to deal with. Drew was refusing to answer or return his calls, and Amanda was saying it was up to the boy whether he wanted to speak to Daniel or not and she wasn't going to take sides. Daniel had no idea whether Drew's silence was an attempt to punish him for what he saw as his rejection or whether there was something else going on. The uncertainty was tearing him apart and he'd decided that, come the weekend, he was heading for Taunton to sort it all out.

Just as Meg came back into the room carrying the freshly filled coffee pot, they heard the sound of a key turning in the front door.

Fred looked up from his paper. ‘Tom. He did say he might call in.'

Moments later, he appeared in the doorway of the dining room.

‘Hi, all. Any coffee left?'

‘I've just made fresh,' Meg told him. ‘Come and sit down. I'll do some more toast.'

‘Well, I've already had breakfast at work,' Tom said, stripping off his coat and sitting down nonetheless, ‘but I expect I could manage another slice or three.'

Meg disappeared into the kitchen once again and Fred behind his paper.

‘Any news?' Daniel asked.

‘Bits and pieces,' Tom said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. ‘We've lifted Patrescu's phone records and pulled your friend Naylor in for questioning. And we also know who the second girl is now. Molly Stubbs – daughter of Shelley Stubbs, who was found dead in a bedsit in Bristol at the back end of last year. OD'd. Gave herself a shot of pure heroin and wasn't found for a week. Unintentionally, it was initially thought, but given that Patrescu appears to have had big plans for her daughter, I have my doubts.'

‘Unless she was a most unnatural mother, she'd have kicked up a huge fuss if she found out.'

‘Easier to remove her from the equation,' Tom agreed. ‘What we don't know is how much Macek was in Patrescu's confidence. He must have known what the girls were intended for, but would Patrescu have entrusted him with anything as important as details of his clients' contacts? I don't think so, do you?'

Daniel shook his head. ‘I got the impression that he was just the muscle. He certainly had a healthy respect for Patrescu.'

‘So what'll he do with the girls now?' Tom wondered. ‘Worst-case scenario is that he buggers off to Birmingham or Manchester or somewhere and puts them straight into work. If that's the case, we really haven't a hope in hell of finding them.'

‘Poor Katya,' Daniel said. ‘What'll happen to her?'

‘I'm not sure,' Tom admitted. ‘Nothing's ever decided in a hurry – you know that. The wheels of bureaucracy grind exceedingly slow. By the way, how's your girlfriend?'

‘Well, there's no permanent damage, but she's pretty traumatized, as you might imagine. She's home now and her mother's staying with her.'

That was the bare bones of the matter, but didn't touch on the cool way Tamzin had greeted Daniel when he'd visited her in hospital. Her mother had been with her when he arrived and the welcome she offered could only be described as frigid. Tall and elegant in a jersey skirt suit, Nadine Ellis had ignored the hand Daniel had offered and taken a seat in the corner of the room with the clear intention of staying there.

Under her scrutiny, Tamzin seemed awkward and ill at ease, offering her cheek to receive Daniel's kiss, accepting his flowers, grapes and magazines with murmured thanks, and avoiding eye contact.

After a scant ten minutes, Nadine had voiced the opinion that her daughter looked tired and needed to sleep. Not wanting to cause friction, Daniel had accepted his cue to leave, saying he'd call in and see her at Quarry Farm the next day if she was discharged, as expected.

‘That's very kind, but there's no need. I shall be staying with her,' her mother told him.

Daniel had looked at Tamzin for confirmation, and she'd smiled wanly and said, ‘I'll be fine, really.'

An outburst of barking from Mosely brought Daniel abruptly back to the present, and after a moment, they heard the soft flop of envelopes hitting the doormat in the hall.

‘I don't know how he does that,' Tom exclaimed. ‘Deaf as a doorpost but always knows when the postman's coming.'

‘One for you, Daniel,' Meg said, coming into the room moments later with a plate piled high with toast in one hand and half a dozen envelopes in the other.

‘For me?' Daniel was surprised. ‘But no one knows I'm here except Amanda and she's not in the habit of writing to me.'

Putting down his coffee cup, he took the white envelope she held out. The address was printed, the postmark Bristol.

He slid his thumb under the flap and immediately noticed the letterhead of his and Amanda's solicitor. He started to read, his eyes skipping impatiently over the legal phraseology to pick out the bits that mattered, and what he read shook him to the core.

‘Trouble?' Tom was watching him closely.

‘Erm . . .' Daniel cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Amanda's filing for divorce.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry.' Tom didn't sound sure whether he should be or not.

‘No, don't be. I mean, anything we had is long gone. The thing is, it looks like she's trying to stop me seeing Drew.'

‘What? She can't do that!' Meg protested. ‘On what grounds?'

‘Apparently, she's saying it's what he wants. She says . . . She's trying to say that he's frightened of me!'

‘But that's rubbish!' Meg said hotly. ‘How does she work that out when all this time he's been desperate to come and stay with you?'

‘I know. I can't believe it either. She's obviously spun some ridiculous story to the solicitor,' Daniel said. ‘But the thing is, since I took him back last time, he hasn't answered any of my calls. I wish I knew what she's been telling him.'

‘Sounds as though he's sulking to me.' Fred lowered his paper. ‘He'll change his mind in a day or two – kids are like that. It's hardly enough to base legal action on. The woman's a fool, and the solicitor's a fool for going along with it!'

‘Oh, he'll be rubbing his hands together in glee,' Tom put in. ‘A nice meaty confrontation spells oodles of dosh for them.'

‘You need to see a solicitor yourself – straight away,' Meg advised.

‘Her solicitor
was
my solicitor.'

‘Not any longer. They can't act for both of you,' Fred said. ‘Tell you what, why don't you try mine? Fitch, Hall and Welland. They're in Tavistock. I'll introduce you, if you like. They've done some very good work for us, and I believe Fitch Junior specializes in divorce work.'

‘Thanks.' Daniel sighed. ‘God, what a mess! Poor Drew. I never thought she'd use him like this.'

‘There's a joker at Molton Nick, custody sergeant – name of Peterson,' Tom said. ‘He's been married three times. Anyway, he always says you never really get to know your other half until one of you files for divorce.'

Later that afternoon, Daniel slotted the Mercedes into a space in Tavistock's Bridge Street car park and went in search of a ticket machine. Fred's solicitors had come up trumps, not only agreeing to meet Daniel, but even managing to fit him in later that day, due to a cancellation.

He was fifteen minutes early, so having paid his dues, Daniel let Taz out of the car and walked down to the river, where he stood and gazed sightlessly at the water rushing over the weir, his head still filled with the injustice of Amanda's words. His first instinct had been to call her, hoping that she had been encouraged in her action by a solicitor bent on generating a little lucrative work for himself and that for once a little reasonable discussion would sort it out.

Reason didn't have a chance to come into it. Coldly Amanda told him that Daniel had brought it upon himself and that she'd been advised to have no contact with him over the matter; at which point she put the phone down.

After ten gloomy minutes, Daniel returned Taz to the car and set off to find the offices of Fitch, Hall and Welland, pulling his jacket close against a damp, cold wind. Although in the town spring flowers were blooming, winter seemed loath to loosen its grip, and today the sky above the grey stone town buildings was overcast and unpromising.

Leaving Messrs Fitch, Hall and Welland three-quarters of an hour later, Daniel felt as happy as could be expected in the circumstances. Fred's recommendation had been a good one. Fitch Junior had a son of a similar age to Drew and sympathized fully with Daniel on the emotive issue of access. He said that in such a case the courts would require the three of them to seek mediation before any further action would be taken. Nothing would happen in a hurry, he said, and if, as Daniel believed, Drew was merely reacting to recent events, there would be plenty of time for the boy to reconsider. Fitch Junior was cheerfully reassuring as he showed his client out – as well he might be, Daniel reflected, at God knows how much per hour.

Closing the glossy black door behind him, Daniel was met with an arctic blast, liberally laced with stinging pellets of icy snow. He paused, looking up and down the street. He'd been too wound up to eat before his appointment and now he was keen to find a bakery or café that might supply him with a hot pie or bacon roll.

What he was looking for and what he found were two very different things, for out of the door of a bank some 20 feet away from Daniel came a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a hooded sweatshirt under a denim jacket. He was wearing sunglasses in spite of the dullness of the day and had several days' growth of beard, but it was a face that was etched on Daniel's memory.

Anghel Macek.

His nemesis.

Daniel's whole being started fizzing with anticipation. He'd imagined the Romanian was far away by now and the sense of unfinished business had left him feeling restless and unsatisfied. Now fate had given him another chance to bring the man to book, but he must tread softly; Macek was on his own and it was vitally important that Daniel did nothing to draw attention to himself if there was any chance that the Romanian might lead him to the two missing girls.

Drawing into the alcove of a shop doorway, he took out his mobile and put through a call to Tom Bowden, keeping his eye on his quarry all the while. Frustratingly, he was once more put through to Bowden's answerphone and was forced to leave a message.

‘Tom, Macek is in Tavistock. There's no sign of the girls as yet. I'm going to follow him, if I can. Please ring me as soon as you get this.'

Even as he finished speaking, Daniel saw Macek run across the road through a gap in the traffic and turn left on the far pavement. Slipping the phone into his pocket, Daniel followed him, staying on his own side of the road. The weather was in his favour because the wind, with its unpleasant cargo of snowflakes, was behind them, and wouldn't encourage the Romanian to look round too frequently.

After 100 yards, Macek turned right into a car park. Daniel crossed the road and followed, hardly daring to believe his luck as he recognized the park where he had left his own car. Glancing round, he saw a black 4x4 in the far corner.

Could it really be that easy?

It was.

As Macek neared the black car, Daniel saw his step slow and he turned, apparently casually, to scan the car park. Smoothly, Daniel swung between the cars and headed away from him without looking back. Reaching the covering bulk of a transit van, he paused beside it, looking diagonally through the side window and windscreen to check whether he was being watched. Apparently, his behaviour hadn't attracted Macek's attention, for as Daniel looked across towards the black 4x4, he saw the Romanian open the driver's door and get in.

Swiftly he made his way to the Mercedes, unlocked it and slid behind the wheel. Taz, who had no doubt been watching his antics with bewilderment, stood up and wagged his tail.

‘Did you see who that was?' he asked the dog. ‘Our friend Mr Macek. And we're going to follow him and see where he goes.'

Tailing another vehicle is beset with difficulties, as Daniel well knew. In a town, there is always a strong possibility that you will be separated from your target by other traffic at junctions, roundabouts and traffic lights. If you take a chance and jump a red light or force your way out of a junction to keep your quarry in sight, the chances are that you'll provoke at least one indignant motorist to lean on his horn, instantly attracting the attention of the driver in front.

Daniel regarded pedestrian crossings as a particular nightmare. More than once in the past, he'd been stuck on the wrong side of a crossing while an elderly shopper shuffled across and had to watch the suspect he'd been following disappear into the wide blue yonder. As if these potential problems weren't enough, Daniel knew his red Merc was already well known to Macek, so he was forced to keep his distance.

On this particular occasion, Daniel's luck held and he managed to negotiate the town centre without any of these hazards occurring. In fact, due to two other cars turning off, he found himself arriving at a junction on the way out of the town immediately behind the big 4x4, which was not ideal.

He pulled up close to the bumper of the Nissan, knowing that the extra height of Macek's vehicle would make it difficult for him to see the Mercedes in that position and impossible for him to see its driver. When the Nissan pulled away, Daniel dawdled at the junction, letting a couple of other vehicles go by before he followed, then, hoping that he wasn't being observed by any zealous traffic cops, slipped his phone from his pocket and thumbed the redial button. This time, blessedly, it was answered.