“Mrs Mitten. Listen very carefully. Take heed of what I am about to say.” The voice is slow and deliberate.
“We have kidnapped your daughters. Don’t worry. They are both safe, for now. I will call you back later. Make sure you are by the phone and don’t be stupid and get the police involved. We’re watching your house.”
“What? What are you talking about? How have you got my daughters?”
“When they arrived at the airport. Do as I say. Wait for our call and remember if you want to see either of them again alive, don’t involve the police.”
“Is this for real? Hello? Hello?”
All she can hear is silence.
Diane rushes through to the lounge with the phone still clutched in her hand.
“Francis. Francis. They’ve got the girls. Do something.”
“What on earth are you on about? Who’s got who?”
“The phone call. A man. He said they’ve kidnapped the girls. From the airport.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s a joke or some stupid prank. They’re due home in a few minutes.”
“Call them. Call them now.”
Francis pulled his mobile from his pocket and rang the number for his daughter Erica. It rang eight times and then went to voicemail. He rang Leona’s number. It did the same.
“What do we do, Francis? The man said not to involve the police. He said they are watching the house. Oh God. Oh dear God.”
“It’s got to be a mistake. We’re not some big shots or multi-millionaires. It must be some sort of a prank. I don’t know, some idiot who’s seen them on TV.”
“It didn’t sound like a prank. His voice on the phone. It was cold and… nasty.”
“I’ll phone our solicitor. He plays golf on a Thursday. He should be on the nineteenth by now. He will know what to do.”
After a few minutes, Francis ended the call.
“His advice is to phone the police. He says it’s highly unlikely they’re watching the house. It’s something they say to frighten you into paying over the money.”
“But what if they are?”
“He said the police have ways of dealing with that. We must phone them. We can’t deal with this on our own.”
“Oh God. This is really happening, isn’t it? This isn’t some stupid trick. Someone really has got our angels. Whatever they want, Francis. You’ll pay it, won’t you?”
“Of course I’ll bloody pay it. If I have to sell the business and the house, I’ll find the money somehow.”
Francis rang 999. After being transferred to the police, he was connected to a Detective Inspector Eden Gold and explained the situation.
"Okay, Mr Mitten. I understand you're concerned but please stay calm. Tell me, have they ever gone missing before. Could they have decided to visit a boyfriend or other family member on their way home?”
“No. Never. And the phone call. It means someone has our daughters. This is not some sort of kids’ prank. I trust you will be treating this as a top priority. I don’t want to have to go above your head but I will. This is my two daughters we’re talking about.”
“Yes, Mr Mitten. I fully understand. But I must be sure. This could require a great deal of resources. I just had to be certain this was not some sort of student joke. From what you have told me I’m convinced it’s not. So please know we will do everything we possibly can to ensure they arrive home safe and well. In the meantime, I can assure you we have experience in this sort of thing and our track record is very good. Just remain calm. We’ll need you to stay on top of things. I know you are under pressure but I would ask that you don’t drink too much alcohol. I realise under the circumstances you might be tempted but we need you to keep a clear head. If I give you an email address can you send over a recent photo of the girls?”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As a detective with eight years’ experience, Eden Gold is aware he needs to move fast. He calls the number his system gives for the Birmingham Airport Police and speaks with an officer called Ken Douglas.
“Strange you should call at this time. I’ve just started looking at some footage from the car park. A lady collecting her husband reported what she thought were two girls being bundled into a van.”
“Do you have a description of the two girls?”
“Yes, we’ve got some footage of them walking to the car park. They look like identical twins. Hang on, as we speak, I’m just watching some footage of them next to a Mercedes. Yes, yes, I can see them being forcibly put into the side door of those, oh what are they called, you know, those taxi vans with the sliding side rear doors. Bloody hell. The bloke in the Mercedes must be in on it. He doesn’t try to stop it. Just gets on with putting luggage into the car and then calmly drives off.”
Eden explains what is happening at his end. “The family report being contacted by someone who says they’ve kidnapped them. From what you say, this could be the real thing. That’s not good news. Can you send the videos over to me?”
“I’ll send the file right now. You’ll be able to see the entire flow from the point where they disembark until the vehicles leave the airport.”
“Thanks, Ken.”
Five minutes later, after Ken has sent the files over and Eden has access to the footage he notes down the registration number of the two vehicles and runs them through his police ANPR computer system entering the reason why he needs the information so it is logged as official police business.
The information that comes back shows him the number plates on the vehicles are false. The registration number from the Mercedes belongs to a Volvo and the van from a Ford Transit.
Eden is now satisfied the kidnapping isn’t a hoax. This is the real thing and his bosses are not going to
