Where There's A Will

Chapter Fourteen

Stone found a crowd at the crime scene when he got there, and among them was Louisa Orchard; it didn't surprise him to see the journalist there, it was a rare occasion when he didn't find her at a major crime scene - she often reached them before he did.

"I guess we're not going to be able to keep this quiet," he remarked to Burke as they climbed from their car.

"Did you really think we'd be able to?" Burke asked as he followed his partner up the road; they had been forced to park thirty yards from the scene because of the crowd, and the line of traffic stuck there by what had happened.

"Nate. Inspector Stone! Are you taking charge of the investigation here? I thought you were in charge of the robbery case at the music festival."

Stone did his best to ignore Louisa, who had spotted him before he even made it through the crowd, let alone to the ambulance that was his destination. Just then he was more interested in finding out what was going on than in talking to the press, she was persistent, however.

"Is it true three men dragged a girl from the Bentley? It's Owen Keating's car, isn't it? Was the girl his daughter? Does her kidnapping have anything to do with the attempted takeover of his company by Feliks International? The rumour is that Grigori Feliks has connections with the mafia back in Russia; could this be an attempt to convince Keating to sell his business to the Russian mafia?"

Reluctantly, Stone turned to face the journalist. "I've only just got here, Louisa; why don't you give me a chance to find out what's happened before you bombard me with questions."

Louisa ignored the request. "Will you be investigating the possible mafia connection? How will you go about doing so? Will you be talking to the Russian authorities to get their help with investigation?"

"You have a vivid imagination, Louisa," Stone told her. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get started. If I find anything the press needs to know, I'll speak to you." With that he turned his back on the journalist and continued to the ambulance.

He was not happy that the press were there already, even if it was only in the form of Louisa Orchard currently, but consoled himself with the thought that as fanciful as Louisa's suggestions might be, she would only print what she could confirm.

"Well, constable, is she right?" Stone asked of the officer standing by the ambulance. "Is the kidnapped girl the daughter of Owen Keating?" He hoped not – it was bad enough that a girl had been kidnapped; if it should turn out that she was the daughter of one of the most prominent businessmen in the county, he was sure that an excess of pressure would be brought to bear on him to see her returned home safely as quickly as possible, and that would make an already difficult job more so.

"It's not certain at the moment, sir," the constable replied. "But it looks like it. The car is definitely registered to Owen Keating, and, according to the schoolbooks we found in the back, Alice Keating was in the car, and she isn't now."

Stone felt like swearing but resisted. "What do we know so far?"

"It looks as though Alice Keating was being driven home from school with a friend, Julia Harris. When they stopped at the lights a van pulled out from the line of traffic and drew up alongside the Bentley; two men got out and proceeded to drag a girl, Alice Keating, we assume, from the car. Brian Jacobs, who was driving the two girls, tried to stop them taking the girl. He was attacked by the driver of the van and badly hurt, he's been taken to hospital already. After that the girl was put in the back of the van, and the kidnappers drove away in a hell of a hurry."

"Okay, the driver can't talk to us right now," Stone said. "But why can't the missing girl's friend confirm whether it was Alice Keating that was kidnapped? Surely she can tell us who got taken – could she be Alice Keating, and the kidnapped girl the friend?"

"She's can't tell us anything at the moment. Oh, she's alright physically, the sleeve of her blouse is torn, but that's it, but she's in shock. She's in the ambulance, hasn't said much so far – she's practically a zombie. She's done nothing but stare into space since I got here, hasn't given the slightest sign that she's aware of anything or anyone, not even when they're right in front of her.

"We are pretty sure she's Julia Harris, not Alice Keating, though."

"Why's that?"

"Sergeant Wells googled her when we found out who the car belonged to, and realised the girl we've got can't tell us anything – she's not Alice Keating, so we figure the kidnapped girl has got to be her."

It was a long way from conclusive, but Stone accepted it for the moment. "Has anyone notified her family yet, or the Keatings?"

"Not yet, sir. Sergeant Wells thought it would be best to wait for you to do that."

"Probably a good idea," Stone admitted. He waited then for his partner, who had joined Sergeant Wells in his questioning of the witnesses, to finish; there was no point in him examining the car, not when doing so might damage any evidence forensics might find when they got there. "Anything useful?" he asked of Burke when he was done with the witnesses.

Burke flipped through his notepad, stopping when he reached the beginning of his scribbled notes. "We've got a few things," he said. "We have seven witnesses who were on the scene at the time of the kidnapping, and eleven more who were in the vicinity. I don't think those eleven are going to be much use to us, though; they were all either in the surrounding shops, or too far away to see any details that will help us.

"All of the seven main witnesses agree that the vehicle used by the kidnappers was a white Ford Transit, and that it was in need of a wash – bloody filthy in the words of one witness. One of them, fortunately, had the presence of mind to note the license number 'Y715 CLH'. There were three kidnappers in total, all of them dressed in black; two of them wore hoods or balaclavas, the witnesses disagree on that point, while the face of the third, the driver, was hidden by a heavy black beard.

"Times for the duration of the kidnapping range from one minute to five minutes." Burke was used to the lack of consistency between eyewitnesses, but that didn't mean he liked it. "There are two recordings of the incident, or parts of it at least, made on phones, that put the time at between two and a half and three minutes."

"We've got video of the kidnapping?" Stone asked, pleased by the news. Like his partner, he knew how unreliable eyewitnesses could be; they were good to have, but too easily confused or discredited by defence counsel – photographs or video that couldn't be disputed were better.

"Yes, one was made from about twenty feet away, while the other is from further away. We also have a series of photographs. I've taken a quick look at them, they appear to be good quality and should confirm the license number of the van. With one exception," Burke continued, "the owners of the phones have agreed to surrender them as evidence."

"Who's the holdout?"

Burke nodded in the direction of a young man who was standing a little apart from the rest of the witnesses. "It's a new phone, apparently, and he doesn't want to give it up."

"I'll have a word with him," Stone said. "Anything else?"

"The lady in the green top is the driver of the Peugeot 205 in front of the Keatings' Bentley, she was closer to what happened than anyone else, and is of the opinion that the beard of the driver was a fake."