JENNY By Tommy Part 1 "Fuck, we're going to get the bastard this time! Get me Amsterdam!" Chief inspector John Woolsey waited for his telephone to ring, and snatched it up. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly, focusing for no apparent reason, on a patch of mildew in the corner of the ceiling. "Ruigrok?" A voice on the other end grunted that yes, this was indeed Detective Rob Ruigrok in Amsterdam and who the hell was this? Explanations from John flowed rapidly and two minutes later he replaced the receiver, a small gleam of triumph in his eye. "I really think we may get him at last" he announced to the small group hovering around his desk. He turned to Jack, the old wizened sergeant who'd received the phone call a few minutes ago. "When do you reckon she was taken?" Jack coughed and stared down at his notes. Over ten years older than John, he'd long ago given up any thoughts of promotion and had taken the decision to stay where he was. He did his job well, nevertheless it took a great deal of effort to keep his voice from trembling. His granddaughter was the same age as this poor girl! "Jenny Simpson, twelve years old, reported missing by her parents at ten thirty this morning. The hotel was close by, so they'd allowed her to go straight to the beach after breakfast." The dark look in his eyes showed the others exactly what he thought of this decision. "Last seen playing on the beach close to the car park. Description: medium length brown hair, light hazel eyes, freckles, slightly plump, small mole above..." John nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Shit, it was hot! He gazed out of his window and looked across to the harbour. Hunstanton was a small town on the east coast and dead for most of the winter. Not so in August, he thought wryly. *** The kidnappings on the Norfolk beaches had started five years ago. It was after the third girl had been taken that the police realized there was a pattern emerging. Always in July and August, always between ten and thirteen years old. Girl disappeared for two or three weeks, before being found semi conscious and heavily drugged, somewhere along the coast. The same story - snatched, blindfolded and drugged, taken by boat somewhere. Same man - dutch, small scar on head, smoker, thin moustache. He glanced at the file on his desk. How many girls? This would be the seventh! "We've got our boys looking for her; the Dutch coastguard on alert, fishing boats notified and harbour masters checking all arrivals." He slammed his fist on the table. "We'll get him this time!" None of the girls had ever been able to say exactly how long the boat trip had been, but the consensus was somewhere between two and six hours. Could be over in Holland or even somewhere along the coast here. Though unlikely. All girls had said that after the boat, they'd spent a short time in a car. Not more than thirty minutes - though one girl had claimed it was only a few minutes. Poor things! What the guy had done to them! He tried not to think about it. No, most probably a dirty, though very clever Dutch pervert who lived close to the sea and had his own boat. "Someone check the bloody air conditioning!" he shouted across the room. He sat down and picked up the phone. It was half past one. The sick pervert would probably still be on his boat now. He clenched his fist and looked out to the sea. His eyes narrowed. Somewhere out there. Had to be! "I'm going to get you this time, you bastard!" *** Approximately two hundred miles in the opposite direction, Tom guided his grey Ford Mondeo into a large car park next to the motorway services and parked between two empty trucks. He got out and stretched, smoothing the sleeve of his cheap polyester suit, the very picture of a tired business rep. Removing the false stick-on number plates took only seconds. Another few seconds to dump them in the rubbish bin. Mobile phone to his ear, he looked like he was arguing with his boss. Probably about commission. A thermos flask appeared and he poured himself a coffee, yawning and looking at his watch. Nobody noticed. A minute later he had driven off. The drive to his house took another two hours. From time to time he checked the girl on the back seat. Still fast asleep. Good! It was almost four o'clock when he arrived home. An enormous old farmhouse outside the village, it had long ago been converted into apartments, then at some stage, renovated and turned back into a rather expensive looking house, far too big for most people, but perfect for Tom. Surrounded by fencing and an automatic gate, the two large Doberman dogs, hidden security cameras and infra-red detectors ensured that he would be left well alone. His housekeeper wouldn't be back until September. According to the original plans, the farmhouse had once boasted a cellar running the entire length of the building. The agency had said nothing of this and it was only when Tom had delved into the matter a little more deeply that he'd realized that they had no idea the cellar even existed. Finding the entrance hadn't been easy. Bricked up fifty years previously during its conversion into separate dwellings, the door was finally located at the back of the garage. As far as Tom was aware, he was the only person who knew the cellars still existed. He liked it that way! The garage door shut behind him and he leant back in the seat and shut his eyes. Bloody hell, that had been so easy - as usual. He patted the pile of Dutch papers and magazines on the passenger seat. Must remember to scatter these around the place. Keep up the pretence. He smiled to himself. Perhaps one day he might even learn Dutch! Behind him, Jenny was waking up. What a dream! What a horrible dream. A man... something on her face... a car...what? It took a few seconds for her to realize that something wasn't right. She tried to move her arms and legs, but the velcro straps binding her wrists and ankles held firm. Opening her eyes, she saw only dark, but it wasn't real dark. Something tight was wrapped round her head. What? Tom listened to the quiet moans and waited. Good, she was waking up. He looked in the mirror. How he hated having to grow a moustache again. Still, it grew fast, and the thought of shaving it all off again gave him so much pleasure. Not that he'd be deprived of pleasure over the next few weeks of course. Oh no. Quite the opposite! "Well, this is it. Let's get you out shall we?" He was amazed at how easily the fake accent came to him. So much easier than German or French! He opened the back door and threw back the blanket. As he knew it would, his cock sprang to life in his pants. Shit, she was sexy! The tight swimsuit she wore only served to show off her firm thighs, pert juicy bum and small tits. Probably begging her Mom to buy her first bra, he thought, licking his lips. Had she started her periods yet? Hope not! Leaning in, he pulled the girl out and slung her easily over his shoulder. Jenny screamed and tried to wriggle. "Hey, hey, little one, no need to worry" said Tom cheerily. He patted her bottom, marveling at its plumpness. "Not long now. Not long." Jenny felt sick. Her tummy tightened into a little knot. Where was she? What was the man going to do to her? Hideous images flashed across her consciousness and she sobbed uncontrollably as the man carried her down some steps. She heard water, creaking wood. A strong smell of seaweed wafted into her nostrils. Other men shouting, bells, engines. Suddenly the smell of fish almost made her sick. "Okay, here you go. Just lie still. Won't be too long now." The girl's head hit something hard and she cried out in pain. She was on a wooden floor that seemed to be moving up and down. A boat! But... "Please! Let me go...please...I..." A hand gripped her arm hard. "No talk little girl. No sound. Or I put a fish in your mouth to shut you up. You want that? Now be quiet!" The small sack over her head was inched up slightly and a plastic beaker put to her lips. "Drink!" She gulped down the orange juice fast, the cool liquid easing the dryness in her throat. "Enough." Jenny felt herself being turned. Fingers testing the straps round her hands and feet. The smelly black cloth pulled down tighter over her face. Tears streamed down her face. Could it all be a nightmare. If she could just wake up. Run to Mummy and Daddy. If only.. She heard something being shut and the sounds grew fainter. Seagulls were flying over the boat. She waited. Soon, all she could hear was the faint chugging of a motor and the water lapping against the sides of the boat as it sped across the sea. Tom rubbed his back. Shit, she'd been heavy! How much juice had she had? He held up the thin beaker and squinted, checking again that the rohypnol tablet had been completely dissolved.. About half? Great. Just enough to keep her sleepy and confused for a few more hours. Poor kid. Stunned with a taser, knocked out with chloroform and then drugged - all in one day! Should be in the Guinness book of records! He looked around the room and chuckled. One of the largest rooms in the underground complex, he'd spent a great deal of time and effort installing the small swimming pool in the centre. Swimming pool? Not really. Less than a metre deep, it was just large enough to hold the small rowing boat he'd bought. That and the wave machine of course. Had to make it seem real! Secured at all four corners, the tiny boat bobbed about on the waves but never touched the sides of the pool. The wooden box nailed onboard was just big enough for the girl. He checked it again. Yes, well shut. He heard her sobs from inside and shook his head. Give her three hours. Should be enough. He glanced at the HiFi on the table. How often had he used this cassette? Recorded in a busy fishing port years ago. As far as the girl was concerned, she was being taken somewhere by boat. Scattered around were jars holding seawater, dead crabs, sand, seaweed, in addition to a variety of shells and small fish found on the beach. Picking up one of the jars, he emptied the contents over the boat, chuckling to himself. A waft of rotten seaweed reached him and he wrinkled his nose. Yuck! At the door he turned and listened. The girl was still crying. Never mind. She'd probably cry herself to sleep soon. He checked the time. Perhaps come back in two hours and see. It would be nice to get her washed and fed before night. Time for a bit of fun before bed? Hopefully she wouldn't be like the last girl. The chloroform had made her throw up for hours! What with that and the drug, he'd had to wait over a day for her to get back to normal. Shit, that had been frustrating! Rubbing his hands happily, he switched off the light and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Jenny shifted round and tried to pull her knees up to her chest, to no avail. The space was too narrow. The smell was just....! Why was she here? She bit her lip again trying to stay calm but it was no good, and she sobbed loudly, the tears soaking the black cotton bag covering her head. It had happened so fast. Who was the man? Confused images circled inside her head. So sleepy! She'd been playing on the beach, hadn't she? Near the rocks. That's where the baby crabs were. She'd seen them the day before. So close to the car park. What if they wandered out of their little pools and got crushed? A car had appeared and a man had got out and opened the back door, arguing with someone inside. From the tone of his voice she had assumed it was a young child. Something about little animals and having to let them go. The man had turned and smiled at Jenny, something small in his hand. "Sweet little things, aren't they!" A few paces to have a closer look. Something in the man's hand had made a popping sound. Sudden blinding pain. Couldn't move. Couldn't make a sound. Then sitting in the car, the man putting a handkerchief over her face, sweet smell, then nothing. What did he want? Why was he taking her away? She'd done nothing wrong. He wasn't a policeman, surely? Perhaps... Perhaps he was a policeman and he'd made a mistake. Yes, that was it surely. He'd come back and realize. Call her parents. She'd go home and... The drug acted fast. Her eyes closed. In her head pictures of her smiling parents mingled with images of the man getting told off by his boss, apologizing profusely and promising all sorts of treats. His acts of contrition knew no bounds and she found herself being presented with dresses, roller skates, even a pony, while a squad of smart police officers looked on, shaking her daddy's hand and promising even more presents. A puppy, a bicycle, toys, sweets. Soon. Very soon. So sleepy. Must sleep. Sleep and dream.