The reply arrives barely a minute later.
Wollaton Park 8 p.m. exactly, main car park. Put everything in a black bag. More instructions when you get there.
Jess reads the message over my shoulder, pulling up Google Maps on her own phone to study the location. Wollaton Park is a bit more than a mile west of here, a wide expanse of parkland with a grand old Elizabethan hall sitting atop its highest point. It’s a popular place for families, concerts are held there in the summer, and deer roam the grounds all year round; but at eight o’clock on a cloudy Monday evening, it would be fairly quiet.
“It’s an interesting choice,” I say. “For them at least. Lots of open space, so they’ll be able to observe from a distance away.”
We had less than forty minutes. I wrap all the items in a plastic bag and find an old black backpack, zipping it shut as another text arrives.
Come alone. Any police and it will be your kids going to the hospital this time.
With a chill creeping over my skin, I text a reply to tell them I understand and show the message thread to Jess.
“OK,” she says grimly. “I’m doing this.”
Dom turns to her. “What?”
“Give me your keys.”
“Hang on, sis—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not standing by, letting you two take all the risks.” She points at me. “Adam’s already hurt, and you sat down with Shaun Rutherford a few days ago. For all we know it could be him onthe other end of this phone. They don’t know me and they won’t be expecting me. Especially not in your car.”
I put a hand on her arm. “Jess, I don’t want you to—”
“They’re my kids too, Adam. And no offense to either of you, but you haven’t exactly dealt with this problem over the past week, have you? I’d prefer if the two of you stayed here, close to the kids. Besides which, I’ve run around Wollaton Park a million times. I know it better than either of you.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“We’re wasting time.” She pulls her jacket off the chair, holds a hand out to her brother. “Give me your keys, Dominic.”
“Wait a minute.” I hold up a hand. “Why will they even see the car?”
“Because I’m going to wait, watch the pickup, and follow them. See if I can get a car registration plate or even better, find out where they live.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Jess. They’re going to be watching you, watching everything you do.”
“I know. But there’s only two ways out of the park in a vehicle. And one of them is normally blocked off unless there’s a concert or a special event. Also”—she holds her phone up—“the gates close at 8:30 p.m., which means they’ll have to make a move by then.”
“Unless they’re on foot,” I say, pointing to the map on her phone. “In which case they’ll have more options. Footpaths to the south and west, in other directions.”
“Would you be on foot for something like this?”
“Probably not.”
“Me neither. I’d want to get away quickly.”
“Surely you don’t need to follow them,” I say. “We can just let Dom’s gadget do its thing, can’t we?”
She swings the backpack up over her shoulder.
“This might be the only time they break cover, our only chance to get a look at them. We need to know something about who’s doing all this, otherwise we’re going to be at their mercy for as long as they want. We need to get on the front foot.”
“I know,” I say. “But this is my mess, my problem to sort out.”
She shakes her head. “Bollocks to that. This is my family too. My children.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
