Hollie shook it without conviction, confused. ‘Army of two?’
Blackie pointed at her mask. ‘You know, the computer game? It’s who I’ve come to the party as.’
Hollie chuckled. ‘Sorry. I don’t really know much about them, to be honest. Computer games aren’t really my thing.’
Blackie nodded. ‘What about a spliff? Is that your thing?’
Hollie was taken aback. ‘Say what?’
‘A spliff. Do you want one?’ Blackie raised a gloved hand in front of Hollie’s face. In it was a large cone-shaped joint.
Hollie’s eyes widened, and a knowing grin spread across her face. ‘Is that cannabis?’
‘Sure, is,’ said Blackie. ‘You ever had it?’
Hollie glanced around to ensure they weren’t being watched, then nodded. ‘Once, when I stayed at my cousin’s house last year. He brought some back from uni and let me have some. It gave me the giggles.’
‘It can do that,’ said Blackie. ‘So. Do you want some now?’
Hollie took another cautionary look around before nodding eagerly.
‘In that case, follow me. I know the perfect place, just around the corner. No windows or security cameras, so no one can see us.’ Blackie began walking, and beckoned Hollie to follow her.
Hollie was excited now, and chattered as she followed her new friend. ‘My parents would go ballistic if they found out.’
As they reached the corner of the building, Blackie stepped left and out of sight for a moment. Hollie giggled, then looked back one last time to see if they were being followed. Satisfied they weren’t, she darted left and into the darkness. The sight that greeted her almost stopped her heart. Three people, each wearing Army of Two masks and long coats, stood in a triangle formation. The shortest, Blackie, stood in the centre, holding a small automatic weapon in her hands. ‘Sorry Hollie. It’s nothing personal.’
Hollie opened her mouth to scream, but one of the people was on her in an instant, covering her mouth with a large gloved hand as a second rushed forwards and secured her wrists with cable ties. The hand covering her mouth was replaced with thick duct tape, and a moment later a cloth hood was pulled over her head. In a flash, she was bundled forwards, then pulled left and right through a maze of disorientating turns until they came to a sudden stop.
An engine was running in front of her. She attempted to scream, but no sound penetrated the thick tape. She heard what sounded like a set of van doors being opened just in front of her, and then she was lifted from her feet and laid flat on the floor of the vehicle.
‘Go! Go! Go!’ shouted a male voice from above her. The doors slammed shut, tyres screeched, and the vehicle moved off at speed.
The next thing she knew, Blackie spoke to her. ‘Hollie, this will hurt for a split second, but after that you won’t care about anything.’
Hollie felt a sharp scratch and a needle was plunged into her right arm. She cried out in pain, muffled by the duct tape, then her world went black.
Sandra Hawkins took a sip from her glass of Prosecco, then placed it back on the table as she checked her Cartier watch; it was approaching 10 p.m. True to form, she sat alone in the club lounge while Richard held court with a group of young men at the bar. She recognised two as professional footballers, but couldn’t recall which of the Manchester teams they currently played for. She was bored, and frustrated that yet another night out with her husband and daughter had turned into a networking event for him and an opportunity for Hollie to demonstrate how much she detested her parents. She sighed. She had never imagined, ten years ago, that marriage to such a charming man would leave her feeling constantly alone.
She picked up her glass again, and wandered out to see if she could locate Hollie. She had had enough, and wanted to go home. Knowing Hollie, she probably felt the same. After all, Hollie never tired of telling her parents how much she hated these kind of events.
As she stepped out into the cold night air, Sandra didn’t recognise the floodlit outdoor tennis courts. Many of the noisy rides were still in operation, even at this late hour, the playful screams of teenagers echoing through the night air as Sandra made her way around, looking for Hollie. After five minutes of searching, there was no sign of her, Something told Sandra things weren’t right. She was tempted to head back inside and talk with Richard, but he would just chastise her for once again being a ‘silly, over-protective mother.’ So she continued her search, pacing through the funfair as she checked every corner of the tennis courts. When ten minutes had passed and Hollie was still nowhere to be seen, Sandra started to panic. Where could she be?
Making her way back into the main building, Sandra scoured the various rooms that had been made available to parents and their children for the evening. Hollie wasn’t in any of them. Her instincts told her something was very wrong. As much as Hollie could be a brat when she wanted to be, she wasn’t a confident teenager and rarely strayed far on nights like these. She usually chose to demonstrate her petulance and apparent irritation from a relatively close distance.
On her return to the bar, she came across a young girl she had seen Hollie speaking to on previous occasions – Lottie, or something similar. Sandra thought her father was a television producer in Media City. Lottie was in an armchair, staring at her phone, as Sandra approached. ‘Excuse me, Lottie? Have you seen Hollie?’
Lottie looked up from her phone, a waxy gaze across her face. ‘Huh?’
‘My daughter, Hollie. Have you seen her?’
Lottie took a moment to think, then nodded. ‘Yeah. She was outside by court number three.’
‘When was that?’
The girl shrugged. ‘Dunno. About eight, I ’spose. Maybe half-eight.’
‘What was she doing?’
‘Nothing really. Just hanging out.’
‘Was she with anyone?’ Sandra’s voice was laced with panic now.
Lottie shook her head. ‘Don’t think so.’
‘Did she say anything to you?’
Lottie’s brow furrowed. ‘Not really. Just that she hated fancy dress.’
‘That was it? That’s all she said?’
Lottie nodded and held up her phone so Sandra could see the screen. ‘Beatrice FaceTimed me, so we didn’t talk for long.’
‘And you’re sure you haven’t seen her since then?’
Lottie offered Sandra a blank look, then shook her head before turning her attention back to her phone.
Sandra felt certain now that something was seriously wrong. It was time to talk to Richard. He would know what to do. He would be able to find Hollie.
She headed back to the bar.
2
Detective Chief Inspector Jane Phillips pulled her unmarked squad car into the car park at the Marstons Golf and Leisure Club and parked up between a large Bentley and a Porsche SUV. Following her well-worn routine when arriving at a new investigation, she reset her dark ponytail, then cleaned her lightweight glasses. After so many years, she wasn’t sure whether she now did it out of habit or superstition.
As she stepped out onto the gravel, she pulled up the collar of her grey overcoat against the cold night air. A moment later, her second in command, Detective Sergeant Jones, approached her.