‘No, and it’s not good enough. Millie should be in bed by now.’
‘Do you have anyone with you, Jo?’
‘No. What’s that got to do with it?’
‘I need to explain what’s been happening since you called. The operator contacted the local custody office, and I’m afraid there was no record of your partner’s arrest, so the case has been passed to me.’
‘Are you not local, then?’
‘No, I work at Force HQ in Newton Heath.’
I can feel my heart beating in my chest, the pulse in my neck throbbing. That doesn’t sound good to me. Has Ash done something far worse than I thought?
‘I don’t want you to panic, and we need to handle this carefully, Jo, but I can confirm that we have no record of your partner or daughter being taken into police custody in the Greater Manchester area.’
I almost stop breathing. ‘What do you mean?’ I gasp. ‘Of course they were. I was here. I saw them put Ash in handcuffs. They read him his bloody rights!’
‘And no one has contacted you?’
I don’t know why she keeps asking this. If someone had been in touch, I wouldn’t have had to call her.
‘No, but are you saying those people weren’t police and social services? That is what you’re saying, isn’t it? So who the hell took them?’ I choke back a scream, but I can hear my voice getting higher and shriller. ‘Where are they?’
‘I’m afraid we don’t have an answer to that yet. I know this is difficult, but we’re going to need your help.’
‘Are you going to send someone? Please, get someone here quickly and find Millie and Ash for me.’ I’ve started to sob, struggling to get the words out. I thought things were bad before, but this is so much worse.
‘It’s better if the police are not seen in the vicinity of your property, even plain-clothes detectives.’
What does she mean? Why can’t they send anyone here?
Then a cold icy calm hits me, and I know why she keeps asking if anyone has been in touch. I force myself to ask the question, my voice barely more than a whisper: ‘Which department in the police do you work for?’
‘I work in the major crimes team,’ she answers, her voice soft, understanding. ‘I’m afraid that, for now at least, we need to treat this as a kidnapping.’
10
Becky listened quietly as Jo Palmer yelled down the phone, demanding answers she didn’t have. She couldn’t blame her. Becky had a child too, and if someone took George – or Buster, as he was more commonly known – she would want nothing less than their blood.
This was the strangest case of kidnap she had ever come across. The fact that the hostages had been taken by people posing as police made it almost inevitable that Jo would report it when they weren’t returned, normally the last thing kidnappers wanted. And they hadn’t yet called with their demands either, which made it all the more worrying.
Initially, Becky had wondered if it was a hoax. Sadly, they did get their share of people making fake allegations, so she had run all the checks she could and had been able to confirm that Jo Palmer lived at the address she had given, had a daughter, Millie, and a partner who was a paediatric surgeon. For now, at least, Becky had to take her at her word.
‘Jo, I can’t imagine for a minute how you must be feeling,’ Becky said, ‘but we have to handle this carefully. We need to get you out of the house, to a place where you’ll be safe and where we can talk and discuss our next steps.’
‘I’m not worried about my safety – what about Millie? Ash? Why would anyone want to take them like this? What can they possibly want with my family?’
‘We don’t know, but maybe we’ll have a better idea when we’ve had a chance to talk to you.’
‘I can’t leave the house! What if they bring Millie back and I’m not here?’
‘We’ve already put a team in place to watch your house, Jo. No one will know they’re there, but they’ll be monitoring any visitors and any phone calls on your landline. They’ll also be checking if anyone else is watching your home. At the moment they can see no sign of that. If anyone arrives at the house, with or without Millie, we’ll know about it.’
Becky quickly explained what she needed Jo to do, and where she had to go.
‘What will you be wearing, so that my colleague can identify you?’ Becky asked.
‘I’ll wear a red mac and a turquoise scarf. How will I know if I’m being followed?’
‘We’ll be watching. Just try to stay calm – and I do realise that’s asking a lot of you.’
‘It’s for Millie and Ash. I’ll do whatever gets them back to me as quickly as possible.’
‘Before you ring off, did Ash or Millie have a mobile phone with them?’
‘Millie’s only seven, and Ash’s phone is here.’
Becky felt a beat of disappointment. In the unlikely event that Ash’s phone had still been with him, they would have been able to get a location. It had always been a long shot; this crew sounded too organised and professional to have allowed him to keep it.
‘Can you bring it, please? And your own phone, of course.’
‘Okay. Do you want me to leave now?’ Jo’s voice broke, and Becky had the sense that although she’d been managing to hold herself together, she was about to fall apart.
‘As quickly as you can, but as you go to your car please try not to look down the road to see if anyone’s watching. Don’t look round. Focus on where you’re going, and stick to the speed limit, however tempting it might be to rush. We’ll be looking after you – and Jo, we’re going to do everything we can to bring your little girl and your partner home to you.’
After Becky had once more tried to calm Jo and convince her that this was the best course of action, she left the office and ran down the stairs, aching with sympathy for the woman and fired with determination to find her partner and child.
She had to be ready and waiting for Jo’s arrival at a place where they could keep her safe, monitor her calls and try to tease out of her any clues as to who might have taken her family.
Becky would be running the investigation with a specially selected team. In cases like this, officers were chosen on a need-to-know basis, and no whisper must escape that there had been a kidnapping. The consequences for the hostages could be dire.
She pushed open the main doors of the building and groaned. It was pelting down and her car was at the far end of the car park. She didn’t have time to hang around. Lifting one arm in a vain attempt to cover her head, she made a dash for it, relieved that at least she was wearing jeans and trainers. She’d been off duty when the call had come through, but had left Buster with her partner Mark and raced to headquarters so she could speak to Jo Palmer herself.
Becky flung herself into the car, shaking her head free of any droplets that hadn’t soaked into her shoulder-length hair, and as she put her key into the ignition she pressed the screen of her mobile. The sound of ringing filled the car as the Bluetooth speakers took over.
‘Becky! What can I do for you at half past nine on a wet Saturday evening?’