THEY DISAPPEARED a gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists (JACKMAN & EVANS Book 7) Read online

  THEY DISAPPEARED

  A gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists

  JOY ELLIS

  DI Jackman & DS Evans Book 7

  First published 2020

  Joffe Books, London

  www.joffebooks.com

  ©Joy Ellis

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this.

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  THERE IS A GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG IN THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR US READERS.

  ISBN: 978-1-78931-532-5

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  ALSO BY JOY ELLIS

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  GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG FOR US READERS

  CHARACTER LIST

  For Ivan, Jackie and Luke.

  So lovely to know you, and thank you all for all your help over the years.

  It's very much appreciated.

  Three cheers, Ivan, for becoming a reader again! Well done you!

  Joy and Jacqueline

  CHAPTER ONE

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  The night was crisp and cold, the inky black sky spattered with diamond bright stars. Then he saw lights of a different origin, small beams darting and weaving in an uneven path across the fields.

  He breathed in and held it. Right on time.

  From his lofty position he could see that they were heading for the side of the old building. That was the way he had entered, and he was relieved that they were going to use the same route in. The other entrance was dangerous in daytime, let alone by torchlight.

  After a while he heard muffled voices echo upwards.

  Waiting wasn’t easy, but he knew how to be patient. Many years ago, he had enjoyed river fishing, and now he employed the same strategy, remaining focused and vigilant. The right moment would come, and he would be ready to reel in his prey.

  It was over three-quarters of an hour before the perfect moment came and he acted — swift, silent and deadly.

  A little later, driving carefully over the fen lanes, he whispered to his passenger, ‘So you like dark, dangerous old buildings, do you?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Well, in that case, you are going to love where I’m taking you now.’

  * * *

  DI Rowan Jackman looked around the CID room until he spotted the newest member of their team, DC Kevin Stoner.

  ‘Kevin? Would you take this laptop down to IT for me? Orac is expecting it. Give it to her in person, please.’

  ‘Sorry, sir, Orac isn’t in today,’ Kevin said.

  Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at Kevin.

  DS Marie Evans voiced their collective question. ‘What do you mean, not in? Orac is always in.’

  ‘Not today, Sarge,’ said Kevin, mildly surprised at all the faces turned in his direction. ‘I met one of her team earlier who said she hadn’t turned up this morning. It’s chaos down there apparently.’

  Jackman threw Marie an enquiring glance, but she just shrugged and raised her eyebrows as if to say, I’m as much in the dark as you are.

  Jackman returned to his office, his sanctuary in a frenetic, crime-filled world. It was like no other office in Saltern-le-Fen police station, furnished not with corporate chipboard and steel, but with things he loved, picked up at house-clearances and auctions. He sat down in his captain’s chair and considered what Kevin had said. Orac? If it had been any other member of staff, no one would have taken the slightest notice, but in all the years he’d been there, he had never known Orla Cracken (more widely known as Orac), head of IT and undeniable genius, take a holiday or go on sick leave. She seemed to work shifts that encompassed the whole day and most of the night, and whenever you needed her, there she would be, hidden away in her basement kingdom, surrounded by computers and monitors.

  ‘Boss?’ Marie stood in the doorway. ‘How about I take that laptop downstairs for you? I’ll maybe find out what’s going on.’

  Marie knew more about Orac than anyone. Jackman would not have called them friends exactly, but they certainly had a rapport. Orac’s life was a mystery, and the only person she had ever opened up to was Marie Evans. And no matter how eager Jackman was to find out more about the legend in the basement, Marie wasn’t telling.

  ‘Yes, do.’ He handed her the carefully bagged laptop. ‘It’s got some pretty sensitive stuff on it, but we’re needing to look deeper, that’s why I specifically wanted Orac. Still, just make sure whoever logs it in is aware of its importance.’

  ‘The Kirby investigation?’

  ‘I’m hoping this will be the magic bullet that seals his fate. Uniform found it at his grandmother’s house, and something tells me that sweet, silver-haired old lady isn’t particularly into money laundering.’

  ‘More like Solitaire or Scrabble, I’d say.’ Marie looked at the bag. ‘I’ll take it now. It’s a good excuse to get nosey. See you as soon as I’ve grilled those techies.’

  He watched her leave and smiled to himself. They were all still recovering from the aftermath of their last murder case, but in the last few weeks he had noticed a different atmosphere in the CID room, a new energy. The dynamic had altered, and they were adjusting to a new routine. DC Rosie Cohen had left them to care for her baby twins, but her husband DC Max Cohen had returned full time, so that part of the team was still active. And now they had newbie Kevin with them, so along with DC Robbie Melton, and PC Gary Pritchard they were nearly back up to full strength.

  He stared at the reports on his desk. The case he had at present was about ready to be handed over to the Crown Prosecution Service, and for once, Saltern seemed more or less at peace. Not that he dared to believe it would stay that way — it never did.

  His thoughts returned to Orac
. Apart from being one of the most striking women he had ever seen, with her white-blonde hair cut in a kind of GI Mohican style, and those disturbing mirror contact lenses that made her eyes look like sheet metal, she was a closed book. He guessed from her accent that she was from Northern Ireland but other than that he knew nothing about her. He didn’t even know where she lived. Indeed, it was rumoured that she never left the basement and probably just hung upside down in a cupboard somewhere. He didn’t know if she was married, single or divorced. Jackman sighed. What he did know, as did every other officer and civilian in the station, was that she terrified him. Maybe it was those eyes. Her sheer brilliance? He wasn’t sure what caused it, but two minutes in her company caused him to morph into a tongue-tied, red-faced teenager again. Orac knew it too and played on it mercilessly. He was certain that Jackman-baiting was her only true amusement in life. In his time on the force, he’d faced killers and all manner of danger and had shied away from nothing. He had a wonderful partner whom he truly loved, and yet, where that spiky-haired, weird-eyed woman was concerned, he was a wreck.

  Jackman pushed aside the funny side of his embarrassing relationship with the IT boss. How very strange it was that he didn’t have the slightest idea of where she lived. He knew where all his team had their homes, his superintendent, Ruth Crooke, and even a lot of the civilians that he worked closely with, but not Orac. She generated more whispers and assumptions about her life, past and present, than anyone else at the station. He frowned. And why, when they had no secrets, had Marie never confided in him? That was probably the oddest thing of all. He and Marie had a special bond — after some of the terrible cases they had been through, it was not surprising. They talked openly about everything. Except what Marie knew about Orla Cracken.

  He shook his head. This was silly. She had probably broken a tooth and rushed to the dentist, or lost one of those scary contact lenses, or had a family emergency. Not that he knew if she even had family, but no one is an island, she must have someone in her life, on some level. He opened a report. Why speculate when Marie would be back in ten minutes with the lowdown? ‘Right, Mr Kirby, let’s get back to work and see if we can drive another nail into your coffin, shall we?’

  * * *

  DC Robbie Melton picked up his phone and a wide grin spread across his face. ‘Stella! How are you?’

  Stella North, as he’d always known her, now Mrs Stella Chalk, had been his sergeant prior to his transfer to Saltern-le-Fen. She had been shot, suffering injuries that saw her leaving the force that she loved. She was now a farmer’s wife, leading a different but very contented life, so there was a happy ending to her story.

  ‘We must meet up, Stel, have a coffee and a catch-up very soon.’ They had been the dream team and he still missed her, though he loved working with Jackman and Marie.

  ‘How about later today, Robbie? In fact, could you slip out around lunchtime? I’ll come into Saltern and meet you somewhere.’

  His smile faltered. Was something wrong? ‘Sure. Is everything alright? You haven’t had some kind of relapse, have you? There’s nothing wrong with Tom, is there?’

  ‘I’m fit as a fiddle, Robbie, and Tom is just fine. Don’t fret. I need a favour, and I don’t want to talk about it on the phone.’

  ‘Then I’ll meet you at thirteen hundred hours at the Cargo Hold in Lemon Alley. Do you know it?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll see you then.’ There was a short pause. ‘And thank you, Rob, I appreciate it.’

  ‘No problem — and lunch is on me by the way.’ Robbie replaced the receiver and stared at the phone thoughtfully. He knew that tone of old. Stella was onto something. Why else would she need to meet up at such short notice? And why not ask this favour over the phone, when she knew that he would help her, whatever it was — well, so long as it was legal?

  They were friends now, more than just ex-teammates, and always would be. They had both been to hell and back when she was so badly injured, but he was the one who had fallen apart, while Stella found the strength to fight the catastrophe that had befallen her. He heaved in a deep breath and told himself not to revisit those dark days. He was finally happy again. He had a lovely home, work he loved — he would do anything for Jackman and his team — and had a great girlfriend in Ella Jarvis, a top SOCO. He’d bounced back too, finally, but the scars still ached from time to time.

  ‘That’s a pensive look, mate.’ Max Cohen was staring down at him. ‘You okay?’

  Robbie plastered a grin on his face and looked up at his colleague. ‘I’m good, Max. I was miles away, just wool-gathering.’

  ‘Not enough work to keep us occupied, is there?’ He laughed. ‘But after that last case, I ain’t complaining, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Me neither, my cockney friend.’ Robbie leaned back in his chair. ‘So, how’s the lovely Rosie and those beautiful kiddies of yours?’

  Max’s smile said it all. ‘Amazing, that’s what. She had doubts that she’d be able to manage the twins, but she’s the best mum in the world. And Tim and Jessica are . . .’ He waved his arms in the air, struggling for the right words.

  ‘Naughty? Insomniac? In need of having an ASBO slapped on them?’ suggested Robbie helpfully.

  ‘I was thinking more along the lines of adorable, or maybe miraculous? But now you come to mention it . . .’

  They both laughed.

  ‘I wasn’t sure if we’d done the right thing, you know, Rosie giving up the job she loved. . .’ Max sighed. ‘But it’s working, mate, it’s working.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  ‘There are days when I know she misses it, but basically she’s enjoying being a mum.’

  Before they could say more, Marie walked in, a preoccupied expression on her face. ‘Uh-oh, the sarge looks worried,’ Max said. ‘Not a good sign.’

  ‘Hope nothing serious has happened to Orac,’ Robbie wondered out loud.

  Max returned to his workstation. ‘Guess we’ll know soon enough.’

  Robbie looked at the clock. 10.30 a.m. Another two and a half hours before he was to meet Stella. If she’d turned to him rather than her husband, it had to be that she wanted help from a policeman, which meant trouble of some kind or another. He wandered off towards the corridor and the vending machine. It was going to be a long morning.

  * * *

  Marie closed the door behind her. Jackman saw her face and knew something was wrong. ‘Okay, what’s happened?’

  ‘I have no idea, and that’s what’s so worrying.’ Marie sat in the chair opposite him. ‘The super hasn’t heard from her, and Leon Barras, her second in command, is pretty stressed. Apparently, Orac asked him to be in around eight this morning to help her with some security sweep that they do every so often to check for hacking attempts or any other suspicious stuff. He said that she’s really hot on what she calls housekeeping, and never misses a routine check. He’s worried sick, Jackman.’

  ‘Common sense says we are all over-reacting. Heavens, she’s probably only late in. Three hours is nothing in the grand scheme of things, yet we are all running around like headless chickens.’ He tried to sound convinced but did a bad job of it.

  Marie looked at him reprovingly. ‘You are talking about Orla Cracken. Respectfully, I think you know as well as I do that that’s bollocks. Er, sorry, bollocks, sir.’

  ‘I’m trying to keep some perspective, that’s all.’ He grinned at her. ‘And I’m struggling.’ He looked at her hopefully. ‘Can’t you tell me just a little bit about that woman? Why are you so secretive about her, Marie?’

  ‘I’m not being deliberately secretive, honestly.’ Marie returned his gaze. ‘Orac spoke to me twice in confidence, and I wouldn’t break a confidence, Jackman, not even for you.’ She sucked on her bottom lip. ‘Unless she was in trouble, and then it would be different.’

  Jackman sighed. He felt excluded, but he also admired her loyalty. ‘Okay, but you say Leon is fretting? Well, he’s her number-one techie — he must have her private number in case of
emergencies? She must talk to him, surely?’

  ‘Oh yes, they talk, alright, like motherboard to mainframe! They don’t even speak English, it’s technobabble in the extreme! I’ve heard them, Jackman, and I understood sweet Fanny Adams! I don’t think it would enter their heads to ask of each other, “What are you up to this evening?” or mention the weather or the election.’

  ‘Different breed,’ muttered Jackman.

  ‘Different species, more like.’ She gave an exasperated grunt. ‘Are you up to asking Ruth Crooke to access her file and get her address? What if she’s had an accident? After all, she is blind in one eye.’

  Blind? Jackman had forgotten that Marie had once intimated that she believed Orac to have been blinded in one eye, and that those strange lenses weren’t just some weird fashion statement. Jackman bit back the questions that automatically followed and instead said, ‘Okay. Good point. No time like the present, I’ll go see the super right now.’

  He slowly mounted the stairs to Ruth Crooke’s office, hoping that she wouldn’t accuse him of being ridiculous. With every step he took, he felt less certain of his probable reception. She was not the easiest of women to get along with, even though he was aware that the tight-lipped, acerbic-tongued superintendent had something of a soft spot for both himself and Marie.

  He knocked and went inside. He was surprised to see a tall, well-built, fair-haired young man seated across from her at her desk.

  ‘Ah, Rowan, I rather thought I’d see you. I expect you are here for the same reason as Leon.’

  He nodded to Leon and took a second chair. ‘Well, I know it might seem alarmist, but—’

  To his surprise, Ruth shook her head. ‘Nonsense. This departure from Orac’s normal behaviour is giving me serious cause for concern. The first thing we do is get you round to her home to check it out. Then, depending on your findings, we either heave a sigh of relief, or really start to worry.’