‘I don’t know yet. He has a past that makes him a person of interest. He has a motive of sorts but would he really hurt his daughter and then his granddaughter, and why would he harm Jennifer? We know he’s capable of violence even though the incident was many years ago. He’s not had any police attention since but does a person change? He did go out to Sainsbury’s on the night of Taylor’s murder, which we still have to confirm, but he was playing bridge with his neighbours when Jennifer was hit and his daughter was taken. We still haven’t found Omar. Could it have been him? He’s fit and could easily sneak around. We know he’s been watching Annabel’s house. Maybe he’d taken to watching her father’s house too. We only picked Whittle up a few hours ago. Maybe it was him looking for Annabel or Grant in the early hours. He’s in custody now. He couldn’t have been here this evening. The same goes for Grant.’
Gina’s phone beeped and she relayed the message. ‘We have word from officers at the Braddocks’s house. They found Omar’s phone with the battery removed and traces of blood on his bag. Also, word from the station. The damage to Nina Abidar’s bonnet and bumper was done by hitting a lamp post. Ms Abidar even knew which lamp post it was. Forensics have confirmed that the damage matches her statement.’ She closed the message. ‘Who was driving Grant Braddock’s Merc? Who did Cally see out of her bedroom window on the night that Annabel went missing? Who is the ghost Cally described coming into the garden in the dark? They had access to the garage and took the car.’ Gina felt her muscles tensing. Whoever was pulling the strings had now put two kids in danger and after seeing how things worked out for Taylor, she knew that time was against them. She only hoped that they weren’t too late. Her phone rang. ‘Bernard?’
‘I have some results for you. The paint that we found on the rag at the scene of Annabel’s abduction is boat paint. To be more specific, it’s topside paint. Its purpose is to protect the boat from the elements. We can also confirm that this paint doesn’t match any of the paint samples that we took fromFreedom. It’s a popular make and colour used on barges. I don’t know if that’s any help.’
O’Connor hurried out and thrust a photo at Gina. ‘He showed me some of his photos and this one was taken on Seth Braddock’s boat. Cally was a baby when this was taken but there’s Grant and Annabel Braddock, standing on the towpath. You can tell that’s Grant’s brother, Seth, they look so alike, and that’s Mr Latham holding the picnic basket.’
‘I’ll call you in a bit, Bernard.’ She ended the call and looked slowly up at Wyre. ‘The boat is calledRaspberry Pi. We found a keyring at the scene where Jennifer was hit, a raspberry keyring. When Annabel left the pi symbol on the side ofFreedom, it wasn’t just a mark to say that she’d been there, it was a clue as to where she was being taken. Have you ever heard of a Raspberry Pi? The minicomputer about the size of a credit card?’
‘Guv, you’re a genius. TheRaspberry Pi. It’s the perfect name for a computer geek’s boat.’
‘Call Jacob now. He needs to urgently get in touch with the local boat navigation authorities, see if we can find out where Seth Braddock keeps his boat.’ Gina bit her lip and scrunched her brow. ‘I know who’s behind this.’ She filled Wyre in. ‘With two children in immediate danger, we need to get a search warrant. It all makes sense.Raspberry Piwas right under our noses all the time.’
FIFTY-SIX
Omar
I think of my mum and how worried she must be. The police would be asking her all sorts by now, especially as I stole her car. They must have found my bag, the car or my phone. I know that his prints won’t be on any of my things because he wore gloves. Maybe they’ll find the car first. I’d parked badly. My head stings and my mouth is stuffed with a disgusting rag that makes me want to heave. I wriggle on the floor, rubbing my face on the carpet of the boat. I’m in what I think would be called the galley. I see the shine of the moon catching the oven door.
Another thud comes from the next room and I wonder if the person who’s taken me has an accomplice. As I continue to rub my head on the floor, I manage to catch the rag on a coarse tuft of fibre and the gag comes loose and dangles at my chin. I gasp in the stagnant air, grateful that I can breathe easily again.
At least I’m not locked under the stairs any more. I can get out of this situation and I will find Annabel. I heard him whispering about her under his breath. The boat is calledRaspberry Pi. I need the police. I have proof that I had nothing to do with Annabel’s disappearance and I think she’s on this boat. I wish I had my phone. In fact, I have nothing. He’d even taken my trainers when I tried to kick out at him.
I go to lift my head off the floor and a flash of pain stretches from back to front. He hit me hard and the pain is getting worse. ‘Hello,’ I call out, my throat just about croaking out this word.
A muffled cry comes from behind the door, then a succession of kicks. She’s not saying a word but I recognise the tone in the nasally sound she’s making. It’s definitely Annabel.
‘Mrs Braddock.’
Again, she makes that noise. Finally, I’ve found her. Actually, I didn’t find her at all. He found me and he’s taken me too. So much for being a hero and saving the day. I’m just another loser and both of us will die on this boat and everyone at school will know I messed up.
I’m sure he killed Taylor. What I don’t know is why he hasn’t killed me.
I call out as best I can. My throat is bone dry. ‘It’s me, Omar. I was trying to help. I’m really sorry but he caught me. I’m tied up. He’s gone for your little girl.’ A tear slips down my face. I wish I wasn’t crying. If the kids at school saw me in such a mess, they’d have a field day. I am exactly what they say I am. A weedy loser who will never get a girlfriend. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Braddock. I tried to save you. I wanted to help.’
‘Omar. What are you doing here?’
‘I came to help you but he got me. Are you okay?’
‘I’ve managed to dislodge the gag.’
‘And me, but he’s tied me up. My hands are behind my back and I’m on the floor. I can barely see. There’s a little kitchen against one side and a bench seat and table the other. I’m wedged against the table.’
‘Just keep trying to get free. Whatever it takes. We have to escape from here and get Cally before he takes her.’
‘I’m trying but I really am stuck. Wait. It’s just rope.’ I lie on my belly and lift my head up slightly, pressing my face against a cupboard. With a struggle, I’m on my knees. There’s a screwdriver wedged in the crevice of the seating. I hop towards it, on my knees, and press my lips into the crumby fabric. Open-mouthed, I try to bite the screwdriver. I miss and spit out a load of fluff and bits.
‘Omar, what are you doing?’
‘I see a screwdriver. I’m trying to bite it so that I can drop it onto the floor. If I can do that maybe I can weaken the rope and get us both out of here.’ That little tool is my chance to save us. I lean in again. As I clasp my teeth around the metal, I fall forward, unable to get back up. I sit up and drop the screwdriver onto the floor to my left and take a few deep breaths. That tiny task had zapped all my energy.
‘Did you get it?’
‘I’ve got it onto the floor. I’m going to get free, then get us both out of here.’ Sweating like a pig, I wriggle on my bottom until the screwdriver is behind me. In between both hands, I grab the tool and begin poking it at the rope. I yell as I stab the side of my wrist.
‘What happened?’ I hear Annabel shuffling behind the door.
I can’t see but I feel my way around, getting a rhythm on as I poke and prod away at the rope, tightening it every time I go in. ‘I stabbed myself.’
