Taken (26 page)

The hammering on the front door made Janine and Alfie stop arguing and look at each other, seeing other’s fear in their expressions. Alfie’s face drained of colour and he prayed it wasn’t going to be bad news about Emmie.

‘Do you think it’s about Em?’

Before Alfie could answer, they heard the sound of the front door being smashed in. Janine screamed, running behind the couch as dogs and dozens of police ran into the house, shouting instructions for everyone to get down.

The reception room filled up with police in their riot uniforms and it became a blur for Janine as she continued to shriek and watched her husband get kicked in the base of his back and taken down on the floor.

Alfie’s hands were pulled behind his back with force and he cried out. The handcuffs were placed on him whilst the Alsatian dogs barked wildly.

‘Alfred Victor Jennings, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Jake Bellingham. You don’t have to …’

Alfie shouted as his rights were being read out to him. The tallest of the policemen put his foot on the back of Alfie’s neck, pushing his face into the thick wool carpet, but it only added to Alfie’s anger.

‘What about my daughter? What’s happened to Emmie, was she with him? Jan, Jan! Call my solicitor and call Vaughn, try to find out what the fuck’s going on.’

Pentonville Prison on the Holloway Road was one of the few prisons Alfie Jennings hadn’t seen the inside of until now. In the past he’d been kept on remand at Chelmsford Prison prior to being sent to one of the clinks in the North of England, which in his mind was done with the sole intention of making it awkward for his family to visit him.

They’d brought him through the cream-walled building of Pentonville and placed him on A Wing, where they kept first nighters and did inductions. Within twenty-four hours they’d moved him to C Wing for the remand and convicted prisoners, and although Alfie had been in and out of prison more times than he could remember without checking with his brief, this was the first time he’d ever been banged up for something he’d no part of.

‘The gun found in Jake’s flat has your prints on it, Mr Jennings. We are charging you …’

Alfie had looked at his brief incredulously as the DI charged him with the murder of Jake Bellingham. He wouldn’t have minded being celled up if he’d pulled the trigger and wiped the smug smile off his face: it was a risk he was always prepared to take when he crossed the line; but he’d been nowhere near the flat. Hell, he didn’t even know where the boy lived, because if he had, he’d have been right round there to wring Emmie’s whereabouts out of him.

When they’d showed him the bagged-up gun, he’d been so shocked, even the detectives questioning him saw the genuine surprise on his face; but Alfie knew it didn’t matter to them if they’d felt up the wrong guy for the murder, as long as they’d finally got their hands on him. That was all that mattered.

He had no clue the gun was even missing; he seldom got it out and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d actually used it, apart from scaring the shit out of piss takers. The moment he saw it, Alfie knew he was being framed, but what he didn’t know was why.

‘I don’t want to see her.’

Alfie lay on the top bunk of the metal-framed bed in his cell, staring at the tiny pin holes in the ceiling.

‘You could at least make the effort, Jennings; they’ve come all the way to see you. You’re lucky to have a visitor; there are some guys in here who never have a visit.’

‘Then you can get her to go and visit them. I told you, I don’t want to see her. I’ll see him, but not her.’

The prison warden sighed and rattled his keys impatiently, waiting for Alfie to get up and follow him down to the visiting room. He could see the screw wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so after lacing up his trainers, Alfie followed the warden out of his cell and through the locked doors of the wing.

C Wing’s ceilings were high and airy, with wide steel netting hanging from the first and second floors which went from one side to another, in an attempt to stop the inmates trying to commit suicide by jumping. Most of the cell doors were open and as Alfie walked through he saw the respectful nods from other prisoners who were standing on the landings or wandering about aimlessly in their prison-issue striped shirts and blue trousers.

The visiting room was full. Teas and coffees were being bought at the snack bar run by the Mothers’ Union volunteers and at the back of the room Alfie saw the tall figure of Vaughn and next to him, with a handful of tissues, was Janine.

‘I don’t want to see her.’

‘Turn it in Alf, she’s cut up about this and she wants to see you. By the look of her boat race, I think you owe her.’

Alfie glanced down at Janine and noticed her face was still very badly bruised; her eye was turning a yellowy black and her lip was still double its size. Standing in front of Vaughn, he felt very ashamed of himself.

‘Alfie please, don’t be mad at me.’

Janine Jennings blew her nose hard and Alfie decided if he ever got out of this mess, the first thing he was going to do was file for divorce; even if she took every penny he had.

‘Fine, stay then, but don’t fucking try to talk to me; the last thing I need is you jabbering ten litres of shit in my ear.’

Alfie sat down on the faded red plastic chair and turned his attention to Vaughn. He was relieved to see him and thankful he hadn’t deserted him.

‘Good to see you, thanks for coming.’

‘How are you bearing up, pal?’

‘My head’s wrecked to tell you the truth. I pay my brief thousands and he can’t get me bail. I don’t know what the fuck’s happening, Vaughn; it’s a mess.’

Vaughn leant over to Alfie and whispered to him.

‘Did you pull it?’

‘No, wish I did. I should’ve finished the cunt off when I had the chance, but it wasn’t me. Have you heard anything about Emmie?’

‘Nothing mate. I’ve got some of my men looking for her and Janine spoke to the Old Bill again; but she’s not a minor any more, she’s sixteen, so they’re not going to do anything in a hurry. Like the rest of us, they think she’s just run away.’

‘I’m not so sure she has; something doesn’t feel right.’

Vaughn shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the floor, kicking an empty paper cup under his chair.

‘I dunno; Janine’s filled me in about what happened with the letters and maybe she’s just licking her wounds like any kid would.’

Vaughn wondered whether he should tell them about Casey but decided against it when he turned to Jan and saw her burst into floods of tears again.

They all sat saying nothing for a few minutes, contemplating their own thoughts, and it was Alfie who finally broke the silence.

‘I need you to find out what the fuck is going on. I’ve been well and truly stitched up.’

‘Any thoughts?’

‘I can think of a hundred names but at the same time, I can’t think of any. Why Jake? Who knew about him? And who could get the gun and stitch me up like that?’

‘Lots of people knew about Jake – the whole of Whispers saw you slap the Bellinghams about. It wasn’t a secret.’

‘But what about the gun? Who had access? Jan? Me? It’s fucked up; I reckon the police took it when they came to arrest me; wanted to put me in the frame.’

‘Back in the day maybe, Alf, but they can’t get away with shit like that now. I know you won’t like what I’m about to say but have you thought about Emmie? She had access.’

Janine, who’d been sitting quietly listening, sat up straight and spoke through gritted teeth at Vaughn.

‘Emmie? You taking the fucking streak, mate?’

‘Calm down, Jan. Listen, you both might not want to hear it, but think about it for a moment. Alfie slapped her boyfriend about …’

‘He wasn’t her boyfriend,’ Alfie interjected angrily.

‘He was to
her
, Alf. You slap him about, stop her seeing him and she’s mad with you, wants to teach you a lesson, then to make matters worse she finds the letters and thinks you’ve been lying to her all this time and runs off. Makes a lot of sense to me.’

Alfie didn’t say anything straight away; he’d been thinking Emmie might be involved in the gear going missing, for whatever reason, but this? This was something else entirely.

Not wanting to think Emmie could be mixed up in it all, Alfie spoke aggressively to Vaughn.

‘Are you having a laugh? How does it make sense? She’s not going to shoot someone just because I fucking said she couldn’t see some guy; she’s a kid for fuck’s sake.’

‘Come on Alf, what were we both doing at her age?’

‘We were different; she wouldn’t shoot him if she cared for him like you say she did. She’s not going to pump a bullet in his head. Fuck, Vaughn, she’s not some deranged American school kid. She’s a sweet caring kid; you know that.’

‘I know, and I love her as much as you guys do, but maybe things got out of hand. Who knows? It happens Alfie, look at the news; it’s all out war with some of the kids today. And what else have we to go on?’

‘I’m not buying it; Emmie wouldn’t do that to me. There’s no way she would set me up.’

Alfie looked from Vaughn’s face to Janine’s hoping for some reassurance from either one of them.

‘There must be another explanation, and what we need to do is find her and find her fast.’

When visiting time was over Alfie stood up, still ignoring Janine. He knew it wasn’t her fault but it was easier to direct his anger at her instead of at himself. He slapped Vaughn on his back and spoke, clumsily wanting to make amends with his friend.

‘Have you seen anything of Casey?’

Alfie watched Vaughn narrow his eyes at him. What he had intended to say was that nothing had happened with Cass, but at the last moment he’d changed his mind when he’d noticed Janine listening with her crow ears. He didn’t want to give her any more ammunition than she already had when he did divorce her. Also, he needed Vaughn to be on his side, and letting him know he’d been lying about him and Casey sleeping together might not go down well; Vaughn wasn’t the sort of man who liked people playing games.

Looking at the hostility on Vaughn’s face, Alfie definitely decided it was best to keep his mouth shut and let him continue to believe Casey had let off; at least this way, Vaughn would fully concentrate on helping him, rather than be distracted by a bit of useless pussy.

Outside Pentonville, Vaughn was trying to comfort a distraught Janine.

‘He’ll be fine, Jan.’

‘I’m not bothered about that selfish cunt, Vaughnie. It’s my Emmie I’m worried about. If what you say is true, she’ll be afraid to come back; because I know Emmie, she hasn’t got a bad bone in her body: if she has done anything like that, it’ll be killing her.’

Vaughn was about to say something when his phone rang.

‘Yes?’

Vaughn listened carefully to the phone call and nodded his head without saying a word as his heart sank. After the phone call, he glanced at Janine.

‘Everything alright, Vaughn?’

‘Yeah, everything’s fine.’

But as Vaughn helped Janine get into his car he realised things were far from fine, and the phone call he’d just received confirmed that. As he began to drive he realised his hands were shaking.

It’d been two hours or longer and Emmie was starting to get cramp. She was huddled up in the back of a large van with four other girls whose eyes looked dead, and who had said nothing since they’d set off.

Emmie didn’t know where she was going but terror gripped her, not least because she was powerless to do anything about what was happening to her.

Oscar had shown her to one of his bedrooms on the night they’d come back from Jake’s flat. Emmie hadn’t wanted to stay and had told him countless times she’d like to go home but he’d told her to wait till morning.

‘Trust me, it’s better this way. Get some sleep, and tomorrow things will work out exactly as planned.’

She hadn’t argued because she’d been too tired, but when she’d woken up and tried to go to the bathroom the door had been locked from the outside. She’d banged on the door until Oscar had come and opened it, dressed in a black dressing gown over tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt.

‘As you know, your dad owes me thanks to you, Emmie, so you’ll be staying with me until you’ve worked it off. If you behave yourself, you and I shall get along just fine.’

‘Please, let me go home; I’m begging you, please. I know if you tell my dad I’m here, he’ll do anything to get you the money. He’d sell the house, his properties, whatever it takes – please Oscar, just call him.’

She’d broken down into tears, crying hysterically and shaking. Oscar had looked at her coldly as he leant on the polished wooden doorframe, then he’d slapped her hard round her face.

‘If you don’t want trouble, Emmie, you need to stop all the noise; I don’t want to get a headache.’ She’d nodded her head and bitten down on her hand to stop the wails coming out.

She’d been kept in the room for a couple of days and although she’d been brought food, she hadn’t been able to eat anything. Each time Oscar had come into the room with a tray or a drink, she’d begged him to let her go home, pulling out clumps of her hair in desperate frustration. He’d hit her twice more and the second time her nose had bled; she’d spent the next couple of hours curled up in the corner of the room.

And then tonight Oscar had unlocked the door holding a light blue dress and told her they were going somewhere.

‘Put this on, and no more hysterics, Em. The place we’re going to tonight, I want you on your best behaviour. As long as you listen to exactly what I say you’ll be fine. You might even enjoy it.’

Emmie was chilled to the bone as she sat in the flimsy dress Oscar had made her wear, the draught from the van doors whipping round the back of her neck. She could feel every bump in the road, and she thought if she didn’t do something to try to distract herself, she’d start screaming again; and Billy, the man who was driving, scared her more than Oscar did. The other girls hadn’t whispered a sound, and Emmie needed to hear them talk and to stop staring into nowhere as if they were the living dead.

‘I’m Emmie.’