Fire in the Blood (24 page)

Chapter 51

When he reached the corner of the caravan, furthest away from the window which was leaking light, Jack could hear a low humming sound and almost tripped over a two kilowatt Honda petrol generator, which was purring away at the rear of the caravan, obviously providing the occupant with an alternative source of electrical power.

Behind the generator was a car, which had been quite deliberately tucked away out of sight behind the caravan. But this one was different from the stripped down wrecks nearby. This one still had wheels, doors and a windscreen. Moving closer he saw that it was an old Vauxhall Vectra, the type of unremarkable banger that can either be picked up for a few hundred pounds at a car auction, or by scouring the classified ads for a private owner, who is seeking a quick sale for cash. With perhaps a few months of unexpired MOT and road tax, such a car would provide cheap, anonymous motoring. Certainly good enough for running around the local area, or for transporting bodies.

Jack touched the car bonnet and found that it was still warm, confirming that whoever was inside the caravan had recently returned home. He then slowly walked round the vehicle trying the doors and boot in turn, but found that they all were securely locked. However, security is only a relative term when applied to a fifteen year old car and Jack reached into his backpack to retrieve the wire coat hanger, which he quickly straightened before making a hook shape at one end. He then inserted the hooked end between the rubber seal and window glass on the driver’s side window and twisted the wire around, searching for a transverse metal rod that controlled the door lock release mechanism. After less than two minutes spent fiddling with the wire, he felt the hook end catch on the rod and then pulled the wire sharply upwards, popping the door lock button.

He quietly opened the driver’s door, sat inside the Vectra and looked around. However, the interior of the old car was clean and clutter free, offering up no clue as to the identity, or habits, of the current owner. Going round to the rear of the car and opening the boot lid presented even less of a challenge, as it yielded to a single strong twist from the end of a flat blade screwdriver forced into the key aperture.

Jack cursed when the rusty hinges of the boot lid creaked in protest as he opened it. He thought he had brought everything bar the kitchen sink with him, in his backpack, but he hadn’t reckoned on needing a can of WD40 as well. He froze, watching the windows and door of the caravan for signs of anyone responding to the noise, but there were none. Whilst there was certainly nothing in the car boot that definitely came into the ‘smoking gun’ category, proving conclusively that the vehicle was owned by Burke, Jack nevertheless found the contents of the boot to be intriguing. Alongside a completely bald spare tyre and a rusty scissor jack, he could make out several sets of car number plates, a large roll of duct tape, six five litre petrol cans and a large scale map of Glasgow. These items could no doubt to be found in the boots of any number of old bangers, which are being driven around the city by unsavoury characters at any one time, but they did not provide absolute proof that Thomas Burke was the owner of the car. On the other hand, taken collectively, they did suggest that he might be.

Carefully ducking under the single caravan window, which was showing a tiny chink of light, he tried to peer under the plywood board covering the window, but the gap at the bottom was too small to allow him to see inside. Jack paused and listened. Muffled voices could definitely be heard within the caravan. A conversation was taking place between two people, one definitely male, the other, probably female. Of course, the sounds could also be coming from a television or radio, but the voices were too faint either to be recognisable, or to make out what was being said.

The sixty-four thousand dollar question concerning Jack was, what to do next in order to establish exactly who
was
inside? Was it the armed and dangerous psychopath, Thomas Burke, and his terrified prisoner, Annie? Or a completely innocent couple, who were probably sitting relaxing with their feet up, either watching television or maybe having dinner in the lounge of their humble abode.

Jack felt that simply going up and knocking on the caravan door was not a sensible course of action, even with a gun in his hand. This was not the kind of place where a passing stranger would ever stop to ask for directions, or a charity collector would take the trouble to walk a quarter of a mile up the rough track, in the dark, to rattle his can under the nose of the occupier. So, if it
was
Burke inside the caravan, he would be seriously spooked by a completely unexpected knock on the door. Burke was completely unpredictable and, if surprised in his lair, he might kill Annie right away, out of hand. Or he could even start shooting indiscriminately through the door … that’s if it
was
him inside the caravan.

Jack paused to weigh up what
he knew
.
There was only one occupied caravan still on the site, so why was the car hidden away round the back of the caravan, and why had such obvious care been taken to board over all of the caravan windows? In addition, the Vectra had only recently returned to the site, so that certainly fitted with the timeline of Annie’s abduction. And who, other than Thomas Burke, carries false number plates and
six
spare petrol cans in
their boot of their car?

Although, since there was obviously no mains electricity supply on site, were these multiple petrol cans simply a reserve of fuel for the Honda generator? But why would anyone have
six
small cans … why not have one or two bigger ones and save yourself a lot of work? That didn’t make any sense, if it was just to supply fuel for the genny. However, it made a lot more sense if they were intended for use by a time-served firestarter, who was intent on mayhem.

Jack acknowledged that this collection of circumstantial, possibly unrelated, information proved absolutely nothing, but he still had the gut feeling that his cop’s instinct had led him to the right place.

Chapter 52

Burke came back into the caravan lounge, carrying an unopened litre bottle of vodka and a single glass. He took note of her return to consciousness and said casually, ‘This can be easy or hard for you, girl. Actually that’s a lie. What I meant to say was, this can be hard or
harder
for you, and it makes no difference to me. But if you promise not to scream or act up, I’ll take the tape and gag off your mouth for a bit. Okay?’

Annie nodded assent and after Burke pulled her upright, into a sitting position, the tape was painfully peeled away from her mouth and a rag removed from her mouth. She took a deep breath and licked her lips to try and get rid of the foul taste of the rag, then made eye contact with the psychopath and sarcastically commented, ‘Well I’m so glad
you’ve
had a good long pee. But what about
me
? Surely you don’t you want your guest to make a big puddle in the middle of the carpet. That wouldn’t be very nice now, Thomas, would it? I mean, we don’t want your tidy wee caravan to start smelling like a public toilet. You’ll lose your deposit with the landlord, and …’

‘Shut up for fuck’s sake, girl, or I’ll put the tape back on yer gob,’ growled Burke.

Annie remained silent, but still retained eye contact with her captor and forced herself to smile.

Intrigued, he said, ‘Well you’re a cool one, I’ll give you that. What’s so fucking funny?’

‘I’m sorry, honestly … but you sounded just like Jack Davidson when you said that. That’s exactly the way
he
talks to me all the time, the bastard, always jumping down my throat about nothing. I was actually going to hand in my notice next week, after I get my first pay cheque. Honestly, I really don’t need all this aggravation in my life.’

Burke chuckled and moved slowly behind Annie, where he paused for a moment and then began slowly, almost tenderly, stroking her hair. ‘Well don’t you be worrying about
that
, girl. Not getting paid is the
least
of your problems right now, and next week’s such an awful long way away. A lot can happen between now and then, believe me. All things considered, I think it might be best if you started thinking
short
term.’

She summoned up every ounce of self-control, to stop herself recoiling from his touch and asked, ‘So,
can
I use the toilet? I
really
need to go now.
Please
Thomas.’ That’s it, Annie, keep using his first name, as if you two are best buddies just having a nice little chat.

‘Okay then, but remember, if you start acting up you’ll be getting another good slap, okay?’ Burke roughly pulled her up into a standing position and, wary of being on the receiving end of another head butt, he then turned her round and manhandled her towards the bathroom. As they shuffled awkwardly together, she could feel something large and hard pressing into her back and decided that Burke must have a gun stuck in the waist band of his trousers. At least she
hoped
it was a gun.

When they reached the bathroom door, however, he hesitated and it became clear that his meticulous planning and execution of the kidnap had not extended to considering the practicalities of how a bound female prisoner might successfully use the toilet facilities.

‘Look Thomas, it’s kind of obvious but I
do
need to have my hands free, at least, so I can use the toilet. I promise I won’t try anything,’ said Annie.

She then heard the sinister metallic click of a lock knife snapping open behind her, and Burke used it to quickly slice through the duct tape around her wrists. ‘Okay then, this is how we’ll do it. You go into the bathroom. You can close the door and do what you have to do. I’ll be waiting here, right outside. You’ve got two minutes.’

Annie hopped awkwardly inside the small cubicle and shut the door. The bathroom contained a toilet, wash hand basin and a shower, but no window, which might have offered some prospect of escape. A small ceiling fan, which had started up noisily as soon as the light cord was pulled, provided ventilation.

As Annie sat down to relieve her bursting bladder, she reflected that maybe a tiny bit of progress had just been made in connecting with Burke. She had asked him for a favour, okay not a biggie, but he had consented to her request. How to keep that positive feeling going was the big question. But she had no clever answers, because there is no way that anyone can prepare for an experience like this. You’ll just need to play this by ear, girl, you can do this. She flushed the toilet, washed her hands and then put on her game face, before opening the bathroom door. Burke was waiting for her, casually picking at his nails with the point of the gleaming, chrome-plated lock knife.

‘Hold out your wrists towards me,’ he ordered. He then took a pair of handcuffs from the back pocket of his jeans and snapped them firmly onto her wrists.

‘Run out of duct tape, Thomas?’

‘These will be a bit more comfortable for you,’ said Burke gruffly.

Was this
another
tiny bit of progress? Apparently he now wants to make me more comfortable. Wait a minute, don’t get too excited, Annie. A psychopath who abducted you is now going to shackle you with a pair of handcuffs. If he
really
wanted to make me more comfortable, he could pour me a stiff drink and then phone for a taxi to take me back home. But still.

Back in the lounge Burke sat her back down on the settee and secured the handcuffs with a knotted loop of rope, which was attached to a steel ring bolt fixed to the floor of the caravan. He then said ominously, ‘That should stop you wandering off, before I’m done with you.’

Another step forward, she now had some very limited hand movement. He then sat down on a chair directly opposite Annie and poured himself a healthy shot of neat vodka. As he took a satisfied swallow, he began staring at her with a smile playing around his mouth.

Chapter 53

The damn dog had started barking again, only this time it seemed to be much closer than before. How could that be? Was it a different dog, or maybe he’d missed another occupied caravan, which was hidden away somewhere in a corner of the site. Jack paused and held his breath, willing the mutt to shut up, in case someone came out to see what was going on. Looking up at the trees, he then realised that the wind had changed direction slightly and strengthened, making the barking noise just seem louder and closer. He hoped that anyone staying in the caravan would probably be accustomed to the intermittent racket and simply ignore it.

The sensible thing to do at this point was definitely to withdraw, phone Andy Welch and brief him on the need for a full search of the Mossdyke site. But Jack’s instinct was to retain his only advantage, which was the element of surprise, rather than risk Burke reacting badly to someone from the SWAT team suddenly bawling instructions at him through a bullhorn, from behind a blaze of floodlights.

A range of high tech wizardry can be deployed in confirmed hostage situations by SWAT teams, including directional microphones to amplify sound and tiny cameras which can be inserted through cracks, or drilled holes, in order to capture images from within rooms where hostages are being held.

However, this wasn’t a confirmed hostage situation and Jack had none of these sophisticated devices at his disposal. Acting alone, he needed to devise a more direct, low-tech stratagem to establish the identity of the occupants of the caravan. What he needed to create was just enough of a diversion to get the occupant to react and come outside to investigate. But nothing so dramatic that he would emerge bug-eyed, tooled up and ready to commit murder.

He considered a range of options. Setting fire to the old Vectra was absolutely guaranteed to get the attention of whoever was inside, but it also risked incinerating the caravan itself and anyone who was being held inside against her will.

Next to the occupied caravan was a badly vandalised unit, which still had a single defiantly unbroken window. Jack
thought about tossing a half-brick through it, reasoning that Burke would think that it was just some local kids messing about, and come out to scare them off.

Or he
could play a Hank Williams song on his little tape recorder, at full volume, and leave it next to the entrance door. If Annie was inside the caravan, and able to hear the music playing, she would surely work out that it was him outside and would then do everything in her power to distract, or divert Burke, so that he could burst in and overpower the psychopath. But there were too many unknowns. What if she wasn’t conscious, or was so immobilised as to be unable to create a distraction?

Or, he could simply switch the Honda generator off. Genius. The lights and power would immediately go off inside the caravan, Burke would simply assume that the generator fuel tank needed a routine top-up and would pop out to do the necessary. If he hid out of sight, with his gun at the ready, it should be straightforward to get the drop on Burke when he approached the Vectra to retrieve a petrol can from the boot. Simple. What could go wrong?

However, after the complete debacle of the failed stakeout at Rossbank Park, where Burke had completely outsmarted him and seized Annie, he decided that a fall back plan B would definitely be advisable, just in case Burke was somehow one jump ahead of him again. Jack then composed and saved a draft text to Andy Welch, which read …

Burke at Mossdyke

snd SWAT ASAP

crvan wth bded up wdows

NW crnr

USE LIGHTS SIRENS

JD

The idea was that, if he held his phone with his thumb hovering above the send button, the text message could be send immediately, should Burke somehow gain the upper hand once again. That way there was at least the
possibility
of summoning help, before they were both subjected to the madman’s psychotic fantasies.

However, there was a major problem with the back-up plan. The signal strength bars on his phone seemed to flicker alarmingly, whenever he moved a few feet in any direction. Sometimes there was a decent network signal and then, inexplicably, there wasn’t. This, to say the least, did not inspire confidence, with both their lives possibly depending on his ability to send the text. But having come this far, he felt there was no option but to press on and try to rescue Annie.