Towards Light Page 4

  ‘I studied here for four years. We could have been neighbours, my halls were near to your mews house, but you were in the army back then.’ Andy pointed to a concrete hatch on the lawn, ten feet from the tower. It rose a foot out of the ground and gravel surrounded it. ‘You see that hatch. It connects to a network of tunnels under the university. You can cross all the way under Exhibition Road, under your house and onwards to the south side of Hyde Park.’

  ‘And the relevance?’

  ‘I remember tales about the tunnels. One guy reckoned he’d got stopped by military police with rifles when he’d accessed an underground door using his college swipe card.’

  ‘Did you believe him?’

  ‘Yes, and we planned to peek, but the guy didn’t last past Christmas in the first term and he never got to show us. We can’t get into the tunnels through that hatch, but I know where one entrance is. Let’s get a map first though before we lose signal underground.’

  Andy searched online and downloaded a guide to the tunnel network, posted by intrepid students who risked their education in return for adventure and bragging rights. He then strode towards an older building with a concrete canopy. A broad stair case spiralled up, but Roberts followed Andy down to the basement.

  ‘Can you get that open for us?’ Andy pointed to a locked red door at the edge of a plant room. Roberts took a tool from his pocket and jabbed it into the lock. A few twists and tugs and he was through.

  The pair descended a steel ladder and entered a world of heat. The air stifled Andy as he trudged through the brick lined tunnel. Pipes and ducts hovered overhead with loose lagging brushing his face as he moved. He consulted his map. ‘I’ll get us as far north as I can. The guy who got caught by the military police said he was under the halls to the north of Prince’s Gardens when they stopped him. He’d heard a rumour that the tunnels went under Hyde Park to a government facility.’

  ‘He may have been right.’

  Andy headed East first with Roberts close behind. They heard a rumble from above: the road they’d crossed by foot on their way into the university. Someone had discarded a load of toilet seats in an alcove in the bricks.

  They carried on for five minutes before Andy took a left and headed North. Both men sweated and took off their jackets. Another few minutes and the tunnel ended. A concrete wall blocked their passage. Andy showed the map to Roberts. The chart showed this as the most northerly point of the tunnel network, but a government bunker was unlikely to show on a student map.

  They traced back along the passageway and saw other doorways filled with brick or concrete and one of steel.

  ‘That’s got to be it,’ said Roberts. ‘They got rid of the swipe access though and there’s no door handle.’ The steel surface presented a smooth barrier. Andy brushed his hand over the material and it slid away into the wall of the tunnel revealing a guy in a suit slouched at a desk reading a newspaper.

  ‘Hey!’ The guy said, ‘You’re not allowed in here.’ and he rushed to block their entry. Which was a stupid thing to do as he ran right into Roberts’s fist which floored him. They dragged him out into the tunnel and propped him on a wall.

  The guy’s desk was empty; hence the newspaper to keep him occupied as he stood guard. Apart from the desk at its entrance, the new tunnel seemed unremarkable. Water stained block slabs formed the walls. Someone had commandeered this stretch of subterranean landscape. The pair continued along in the blistering heat.

  And then they saw the military police patrolling ahead. Roberts and Andy slunk back into the shadows in two alcoves and let the soldiers walk right on by. The MP’s would discover the gatekeeper was missing soon enough. Andy emerged and picked up the pace as soon as the MP’s were out of site.

  The temperature cooled, and the air was drier and conditioned. They exited the tunnel and entered an area like the basement of 1586 Windsor Road. Plants filled the place, but also people. Five occupants wore white overalls and stood at tables. They tended beakers and jars and tubes and stills. The scientists ground and gouged and stripped and trimmed the plants. They prepared green solutions which they boiled decanted and tested. Extractor fans in the walls threw the heat out into the ventilation tunnels.

  Footsteps approached behind. Andy and Roberts entered the room.

  ‘Excuse us,’ Andy said as he crossed the laboratory floor. The scientists regarded them but continued with their work. The two intruders crossed the lab before the soldiers exited the tunnel. They made it to a canteen area and found a woman crying into her coffee. The reason for her discomfort was a guy in a suit who sat across the cheap table from her. He had the air of a man under pressure and he sent that pressure downhill to his coffee partner.

  The woman was Julia Matthews. Andy had seen her only once, also underground in another basement. She was still beautiful even through the tears. She’d tied her blonde hair back and wore the white overalls like the other scientists. Her pink cheeks glowed, and she stopped crying as she saw Roberts. ‘You came for me?’

  Roberts had no time to reply as the MP’s arrived. He considered an elbow to the face of the lead soldier and he knew he’d get the man’s weapon, but he’d have no chance against the second guy.

  Andy and Roberts stood with their hands up against the wall of the canteen. There were no doors and the only other access was a caged spiral staircase leading to a hatch in the roof. The suited man at the table spoke. He glanced first at Roberts and couldn’t hide his fear. He nodded to a soldier who struck Roberts with his rifle butt and dropped him to the ground.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you again so soon Mr Teague. I’m surprised you came back here. Although now I’ve reviewed your thoughts, I’m not surprised. Take a seat while they deal with Roberts first.’

  Chapter 7

  Janet smiled as she approached Amy’s maisonette. The first few daffodils of spring sprouted in the tubs outside the door. Janet rang the bell, and Amy answered after bundling down the stairs.

  ‘Hi Janet, can you get the coffee on please? I’ve almost settled Poppy for her nap, I’ll be down in a minute.’

  Janet entered the kitchen. It was large for an ex local authority maisonette. Jamie and Amy had bought well. It was in a pleasant suburb of West London with excellent schools and good transport links. If no more children came along, then this place would suit them for years. Otherwise they’d be buying bunk beds.

  Janet arranged biscuits on plates and filled the cafetière from the kettle. She took a tray through to the lounge and stepped out through the unlocked door onto the terrace. It was the smallest patio Janet had seen, but she loved it. A metre-high brick wall surrounded a two-metre square concrete slab. It was Amy and Jamie’s private space in the open air. They looked onto the communal gardens that bordered the road, but a monkey puzzle tree and the sight of the occasional Parrot improved the view.

  Janet had heard that the parrots had escaped from a zoo and established themselves in this enclave of West London. She sat furthest from the French windows to make it easy for Amy to join her at the round plastic table.

  Poppy’s arrival had brought joy to everyone not least Janet, because since Amy took maternity leave last summer, Janet had a coffee date every week. The women had developed a deep friendship and Janet hoped that Amy would decide not to go back to police work. That way they could carry on with their chats. She’d heard that Jamie had a trust fund so perhaps that might give the pair options when the time came to decide.

  Janet had not faced this dilemma after giving birth to her only son forty years ago, but for now she enjoyed the late February sunshine and listened to a few happy gurgles from upstairs as Poppy started her nap.

  Amy took her traditional place at the table. The pair had sat out throughout winter in coats, but the mild weather had been tolerable. Today Amy wore a t-shirt as the direct sunlight cheered them.

  ‘We’ll need the sun tan lotion soon Janet.’

  ‘No need for my leathery old skin but yours is worth taking care of.
’

  Amy’s smile was thinner than usual.

  ‘Something up Amy?’

  ‘I’d like to fool your human lie detector and say no but you’d see right through me. I don’t want to tell you as I like our mornings together and when I’ve told you this, you’ll be off again on your mission and putting yourself in danger.’

  ‘You’ve heard something about Ranto?’

  ‘Mike Baker called me this morning. Andy Teague is looking for you. Someone has kidnapped his wife.’

  A sparkle lit in Janet’s eyes. She was pushing seventy-five years old, but she was still the right person to call. She liked that Teague had reached out to her rather than trust her more restrained former colleagues in the police. Bill Rand and the Ranto company had stolen years of her life. Every day in prison she’d thought of him. This time she would put him behind bars, or in the ground.

  ‘Do you know where I can find Teague?’

  ‘Mike didn’t say, but he gave me his number.’

  Janet called it but got voicemail. She left her own number after the beep. The coffee and biscuits disappeared faster than usual, and Janet rose.

  ‘Thanks for telling me Amy and sorry I’ve got to rush off, but I’ll only be thinking about Rand now you’ve told me, but you knew that.’

  ‘I won’t tell you to be careful but before you take any big risks, just think of us. You’ve got an extended family now and I want Poppy to get to know you as she grows. I don’t see a better role model.’

  ‘I do. But I’ll not throw my life away, what’s left.’

  The walk to the railway station took around ten minutes and the ride into Waterloo Station another forty. Janet resolved to go to Andy Teague’s home and wait for him there. She got the address, just north of London, from Baker and navigated the tube network to Finsbury Park.

  Janet boarded the over ground train and took a cab to Teague’s place. She arrived around midday. A woman of similar age greeted Janet. ‘Andy’s not home. He’s looking for Jess. I’m here to take care of Sam.’

  ‘I’m an acquaintance of Andy’s, I used to be a police officer.’

  ‘You’re Janet, Jess told me all about you and I recognise you from your eyes. They make such an impression; I see why Jess remembered them. Thank you for helping to save Max.’

  ‘No thanks needed. Do you mind if I look around? I might spot things that others didn’t notice.’

  Andy’s mum nodded her agreement and Janet set to work. Except it wasn’t work. She loved it even more now she was freelance and not even paid freelance. She did it for the pure joy and that’s why her eyes were brighter than normal today. It was the way life made her, her purpose on Earth. Her obsession with justice and vengeance sometimes saved lives. She didn’t need the thanks and needed no one’s help: just as well because until she’d met Amy there was no one offering.

  Janet liked to search top down, the way she cleaned. She started in the master bedroom with the cupboards over the built-in wardrobes. She didn’t think Jess would mind under the circumstances. When she got to the chest of drawers, she emptied them like a burglar; from the bottom upwards to save time by only closing the drawers once. Unlike a burglar she folded the items before she placed them back.

  She worked room by room and it was late in the evening before she made it to the lounge. The strange lady working her way through his house intrigued Sam, but Janet didn’t mind him staring. She chatted to him as she worked. ‘Don’t you worry Sam we’ll get your mum back.’

  ‘Who’s taken her?’

  ‘I don’t know Sam, it’s always best to assume nothing. To assume makes an Ass out of “U” and “me”. I’ll tell you one thing though. We’ll get her back, me and your dad, I promise you that.’ Sam giggled at the pun and felt reassured by this woman who seemed to have infinite self-belief. ‘Here Sam, come and help me with this fingertip search.’ Sam bent onto his knees at the corner of the lounge carpet side by side with Janet, the palm of his hands faced the carpet.

  ‘Like this Janet?’

  ‘That’s right. We’ll cover the ground twice as fast with you helping me.’

  The pair crawled backwards with their fingertips tracing every inch of the carpet. It was a big room and Andy’s mum helped to shift the furniture, as Janet wanted to check under the sofas and chairs too.

  Sam found the clue at around nine o’clock just before his Grandma would put him to bed. His keen eyes and closeness to the ground helped because the clue was small. It was a tiny key to fit a miniature lock. Janet recognised it as the key to a set of rigid handcuffs, which were standard issue in the police force.

  ‘Well done, Sam that’s very interesting.’

  She rolled the minuscule metal spike around in her hand a few times and then called Mike Baker who was having a busy day co-ordinating this off the book operation.

  ‘Mike did you have any units over to Andy Teague’s address around the time they took his wife last night?’

  Mike checked and called back.

  ‘Janet, there were no units to Teague’s address but there was a call two street’s away. Tom Cole from CID took it as the patrol units were miles away. We rarely get called over to that neighbourhood.’

  ‘What’s Tom Cole like?’

  ‘Lazy. He’s a liability, the only reason he’s still on the force is because his uncle is the Chief Super. He almost didn’t make it out of his probation. The idiot carved his name into a witness’s mahogany dining table as his mind wandered while he was taking a statement. He went with me over to Andy Teague’s house two years ago when Ranto kidnapped Teague’s friend.’

  ‘Do you think he’s corruptible?’

  ‘When he’s off-duty he spends his time in the bad pubs. That way he’s closer to the bookies. He owes money to half the force and It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s under investigation by the department of professional standards.’

  ‘Do you know where he is Mike?’

  ‘He’s on a rest day today Janet but I’ll send you his address.’

  It was around midnight when Janet arrived at Tom Cole’s road. It was not convenient for public transport and she’d had a long walk through one of the rougher stretches of town. She strode down the footpath like she owned it. A few youths smoking weed showed no interest in moving aside to let the old lady walk through.

  Janet could have walked around them by stepping into the road, it wasn’t busy. But that might have inferred weakness and prompted a mugging.

  She stood in front of the biggest guy who she judged to be the leader. She smiled at him and said, ‘Excuse me. Young man, can I walk through?’

  The guy laughed at her. He stood around six feet three inches tall, wore great trainers, a hoody and cheap jogging bottoms with a cigarette burn in one leg. ‘Are you joking Grandma? Hand us over your purse. In fact, don’t bother, we’ll take it from you. Brady do you want to have fun?’

  Brady was smaller than the leader, around five feet nine with a moustache as fine as a sown lawn when the birds have pecked the seeds.

  ‘Brady’s got an issue old lady. He can’t get it up. Except with old women. Sometimes we wait longer than we want to for him when we go burgling. He’s not interested in the money but he’s a whizz at gaining entry.’

  Brady spoke with a gentle voice. ‘Don’t worry I won’t hurt you. Come over with me to the alley over there. It won’t take long, not the way you look.’ Brady put a comforting arm on Janet’s shoulder

  Janet rejected Brady’s offer. She had no fear and hadn’t for years. But she felt excitement, and she felt the handle of the 12-inch blade kitchen knife she’d borrowed from Teague’s kitchen.

  She’d always wondered why they made the point so sharp. While on the force she’d started a workgroup involving chef’s and the catering industry. They’d looked at regulations to enforce manufacturers to make blunt ended knifes.

  The initiative had failed.

  ‘Let’s see what you’re packing big boy.’ Janet’s hand reached towards Brady�
�s groin. The darkness obscured the contents of her hand. But Brady felt the payload as it penetrated his femoral artery. As she pulled it loose, the blood pumped over 3 metres as Brady screamed and fell to the floor. The leader ducked down to see what happened which proved a mistake. It brought his carotid artery into the range of Janet. And Janet liked to make sure as they outnumbered her.

  The pair bled out in less than two minutes and the rest of the gang fled. Janet hoped someone would call for an ambulance as Tom Cole may need one soon too.

  Chapter 8

  Tom Cole’s flat was above a fried chicken joint, across the road from a betting shop. Access to the flat was via a door with peeling white pain and a broken buzzer but Janet didn’t ring. She forced the lock instead by jabbing her knife in the jamb. The rotten timber securing the latch casing sheared with little force.

  Steps led from the doorway to the first floor. The air was stale with musky tones that almost made Janet wretch. There was no handrail on either side and she was reluctant to touch the greasy stained walls with her ungloved hands.

  A bare bulb provided dim illumination and Janet made it to the first floor. The door to the flat stood ajar which gave her an opportunity to snoop before she entered. The daylight bulb in the centre of the room threw off ten times the lumens of the hallway light. There were no people in the bedsit. A basin hung from one wall, a bed nestled against the other, but it had no sheets or duvet, just a dirty mattress on top.

  A roll mat and sleeping bag stretched across the thin carpet. Janet guessed the bathroom and toilet must be upstairs, perhaps shared with another apartment.

  She entered and studied the walls. What she saw disturbed her. Photos of Jess littered the woodchip wallpaper. The photos showed Jess picking Sam up from school, leaving work, arriving home and out for drinks with a girlfriend. The photos were date stamped with the first one around three months ago and the last one the previous week.

  Jess had attracted a stalker but what was Cole’s motive? Janet would have to ask him, and she’d come prepared in case he declined to answer her questions.