Hidden In Plain Sight.
Chapter Six.
Prior to leaving for Buckinghamshire, Theresa Creighton had been very careful with her appearance. Dressed in blue denim jeans, white shirt, light grey wind cheater and white trainers, her short, black, masculine hairstyle, coupled with a complexion devoid of make-up, would ensure she'd pass easily as a middle aged male to any casual onlooker.
The Saturday morning traffic was light and she arrived at her destination much sooner than she'd expected. Cruising past the main gates to Winfield Hall, she traversed the lanes surrounding the estate, until she found a suitable place to park.
Through the trees, she could see the main house, so would know when, or if, any of the inhabitants ventured out.
She'd then have to trust to luck.
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Earlier that morning, Dempsey was busy in the spacious en-suite shower, eyes closed while washing out the shampoo in his hair, when he felt two arms surround his waist from behind, before sliding down over his thighs and then moving to the most intimate part of his body. Grinning and then slowly turning round, with eyes still closed, he felt Harry's soft, sensuous lips on his and reached for her breasts, gently caressing her extended nipples with the palm of his hands.
As the warm water cascaded over them, Harry moaned softly then lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, throwing her arms around his neck and gasped as their bodies connected, sighing in ecstasy as their rhythm fused in unison with each other.
Later, revelling in the afterglow, a world away, they stood still, hugging each other, their heartbeats gradually levelling to normal, the soft, tepid water starting to cool, teasing them until it became cold, their skin beginning to tingle and wakening them to the present.
Harry shivered as she pushed open the shower door, reaching for a large towelling robe, Dempsey right behind her grabbing his. Snuggling into it, she turned and, once more, put her arms around him, kissing his lips.
"Whatever the day has in store for us, I can handle it after that." she whispered, then squealed as Dempsey lifted her over one shoulder.
"You think we're done?" he laughed as he carried her through to their bedroom and laid her on the bed. "No way lady. We got some catchin' up to do!"
She lay there, her lips slightly parted, her mouth panting in expectation and, with eyes sparkling, she slowly, seductively, opened her robe.
By mid morning, with breakfast concluded, the house was alive with the two girls playing hide and seek throughout the myriad of corridors, hallways and rooms, Blondie and Gunner not far away and joining in the fun, barking amongst the joyous giggles and squeals. Upon hearing a whistle, the two dogs suddenly galloped off down the landing, clattering down the stairs and scampering out to the rear courtyard where Abbott was waiting, ready with their leads.
The girls lost track of them and ended up in the main lounge, where Dempsey, Freddy and Harry were enjoying a mid morning cup of coffee.
"What are you two up to?" asked Freddy, chuckling. "We can hear you both charging around the house."
"We're looking for Blondie and Gunner, Gramps." replied Alex.
"They're out in the courtyard, darling." said Freddy. "Abbott is about to take them for a walk. Do you want to go too?"
Alex and Hilda exchanged glances, nodded at each other, then at Freddy.
"Yes please." said Alex.
"Come on then." said Harry. "Let's go and get you both togged up in some outdoor clothes. Daddy, can you ask Abbott to wait for them."
"Yes of course." smiled Freddy, getting up from his chair and disappearing out of the room.
Fifteen minutes later, dressed in dungarees, woolly jumpers and mittens, warm coats, Wellington boots and a bobble hat each, they accompanied Abbott as he led the dogs and his precious charges out into the countryside.
Theresa Creighton saw them too and, checking her pockets, tracked their every movement from afar, using cover from the trees, hedgerows and bushes.
Freddy disappeared into his study and began making numerous telephone calls, finally emerging later with a wide grin on his face.
"Daddy?" queried Harry, as he strode into the lounge. "You're looking decidely pleased with yourself."
"Yes I am and with good reason." he replied. "I've just managed to speak to Simon Wiesenthal personally. Took a bit of doing getting past his gatekeepers as he's a constant target of the neo-Nazi's, seeing as he's been highly successful in discovering the whereabouts of many ex-SS Gestapo personnel and bringing them to justice."
"Didn't he have a hand in gettin' Eichmann?" recalled Demspey.
"Yes, he helped in locating him in Brazil." confirmed Freddy. "And he's currently on Kurt Waldheim's back."
"Who, the president of Austria?" exclaimed Harry. "Is he ex Gestapo?"
"He was an intelligence officer in the Wehrmacht." said Freddy. "But his office was close to where prisoners were routinely shot, yet Waldheim denies all knowledge of that, even though the Jasenovac concentration camp was only a few miles away."
"So does this Wiesenthal guy know anythin' 'bout our pal Steele?" asked Dempsey.
"He's pretty sure his real name is Kurt Scheel." replied Freddy. "Or Oberst-Gruppenfuhrer-SS Kurt Scheel to give him his full military title. And to all intents and purposes he was a pretty vicious exponent of Gestapo torture methods."
Freddy suddenly went very quiet at that point, his eyes beginning to water as his memories were re-awakened of the painful deaths administered to so many of his SOE agents at the hands of the Gestapo.
Harry went to his side and took his hand in hers.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her own eyes beginning to well at the sight of the anguish on her father's face. He nodded.
Dempsey broke the silence that followed.
"So, Freddy, what're we gonna do now?"
"Not a lot we can do right now, James." Freddy replied, squeezing Harry's hand and smiling at them both. "Simon is going to do some more digging and come back to me. Depending upon what he discovers will depend upon whether he decides to go after Scheel and get him indicted for war crimes."
"Yeah, well for one thing, Alex ain't goin' nowhere near him." growled Dempsey. "Honey? If Alex wants to play aroun' after school with Hilda, that's okay, so long as it's always at our place. Hilda. Ain't that a Kraut name?"
"Indeed it is, James." replied Freddy. "The 'hild' part anyway. Stands for 'battle', although you'll also see it in Old English."
"How long will Simon Wiesenthal take?" asked Harry.
"I've no idea, Harry." replied Freddy. "But once he gets his teeth into something he won't let it go until he's left no stone unturned. He became quite animated the further he delved whilst on the phone to me this morning, so I'd wager he'll be back to me fairly soon."
Out in the fields and narrow tracks, Abbott and his entourage were entering a small wood, the girls whooping with joy at the prospect of resuming their game of hide and seek, this time amongst the trees. From her watching brief, Theresa Creighton had already anticipated the route the group were likely to take and smirked when she was proven correct.
Pulling a black balaclava from her pocket she slipped it over her head, just her eyes visible and, ahead of her targets, waited, hidden by the thick undergrowth.
While Alex faced a tree, her hands over her eyes and began counting to fifty, Hilda skipped away to find a suitable hiding place. Abbott, in the meantime, had become distracted by the dogs, both of whom had suddenly charged off into the depths of the wood having picked up the scent of badgers and were frantically pawing the ground and barking at what was obviously the entrance to a sett.
Meanwhile Hilda was hiding behind a thick bush, panting with excitement and trying to stifle her giggles at the thought of Alex searching for her. Next thing she knew, an arm was around her middle from behind and a sickly sweet smelling cloth rammed over her face.
She was unconscious within seconds.
Theresa Creighton wasted no time in lifting her into her arms and, half running, half crouching, swiftly retraced her steps, reaching her car after several minutes and driving quickly away.
"Coming, ready or not!" shouted Alex as she dropped her hands from her eyes and began scanning the immediate area, watching to see if Hilda accidentlly showed herself. When she didn't, Alex sighed and began her search proper. After hunting for a fruitless ten minutes, she finally shouted.
"Okay Hilda! You win! I give up so where are you!?"
By this time, Abbott had returned with the dogs on their leads and said they should make their way back home.
"But I can't find Hilda!" wailed Alex, looking around anxiously and close to tears. They spent the next half an hour scouring the woods, calling Hilda's name, Abbott at one point becoming annoyed, assuming Hilda was taking the game too far and deliberately avoiding them, but when his angry shouts didn't flush her out from wherever she was hiding, a cold feeling of dread passed over him.
"Perhaps she's accidentally got lost and found her way home, Miss Alex." he said, quietly. "I think we should go back to Winfield Hall. We'll no doubt find her there."
Alex took his hand and, sobbing, trudged back home, miserable and worried.
Once there, she wasted no time in finding Harry and rushed to her side, clutching her tightly, tears streaming down her face.
"What on earth's the matter!?" exclaimed Harry as Alex fell into her arms, Dempsey and Freddy looking on with a mixture of concern and confusion.
"Hilda's gone!" cried Alex.
"What!?" replied Harry. "Gone!? What do you mean she's gone!"
At that point, Abbott appeared and stood in the middle of the room, staring at them, unsure where to start.
"What's happened Abbott?" asked Freddy calmly and coolly, but sensing the worst.
Harry thought it best to spare Alex any further upset when Abbott began explaining the sequence of events as they had unfolded.
"Come on darling." she said, as she took her hand. "Let's get you changed out of those clothes. A nice warm bath with lots of bubbles willl make you feel better."
"I don't want a bath." Alex replied. "I want to see Hilda."
"I know you do, darling." answered Harry, gently. "We all want to see Hilda again. And we will, I promise. But you're all grubby and hot right now. Just look at those muddy hands and fingernails. Pointless giving you mittens! Anyway, look, Blondie and Gunner can come up too. You know they love it when you splash them."
"Yes." giggled Alex, forgetting her woes for a moment. "They try and eat the bubbles when I scoop them up and put them on the ends of their noses."
"Let's go and find them then, shall we?"
After they had gone, Abbott completed his explanation as to the the turn of events, clearly struggling to keep his composure and not break down, something he was perilously close to doing.
"She's been snatched." said Dempsey, flatly, when Abbott has finished, keeping his temper under control, but with difficulty, as he was acutely aware it could have been Alex. "What the hell were you thinking, Abbott?"
"I'm sorry, sir." said Abbott, accepting a glass of whisky handed to him by Freddy, who also glanced at Dempsey with a look that asked him to stay in control of his emotions.
"Is that all you can remember, Abbott?" asked Freddy. "Nothing else to add?"
"No sir, I wish there was something else that might explain her disappearance." he replied, miserably.
"Alright, that'll be all." said Freddy, Abbott retreating quietly out of the room.
"I know what you must be thinking, James." continued Freddy, after Abbott had left them. "But it sounds to me as though whoever took Hilda, had been very clever in staying out of sight. Unless, it was a sudden spur of the moment act, that is."
"Hard to say right now." replied Dempsey. "But Abbott shoulda had his wits 'bout him. I'd have thought by now, he'd be more than aware of the possibility of kidnap. You're a wealthy guy, ya must have been conscious of the dangers when Harry was a kid - an' Abbott's been with ya for years. Freddy, it coulda been Alex today!"
"I know, I know. That thought hasn't passed me by either." said Freddy. "But you have to remember I've been involved with the Secret Service for many years. Anyone studying my family with the intention of demanding a ransom for snatching Harry, or Alex for that matter, wouldn't have risked it in the end. They'd have known the whole weight of MI6, and others, would have been unleashed upon them."
"Okay, so if that holds true now, are you tellin' me that whoever's taken Hilda ain't aware of your background and connections?" asked Dempsey.
"It looks that way, James, yes." replied Freddy. "Either that, or she was a deliberate target. If her grandfather does turn out to be an ex Gestapo officer, who's to say her disappearance isn't related?"
"You think there could be a connection?"
"Kurt Scheel was a particularly nasty, sadistic individual who relished inflicting as much pain on his victims as possible." said Freddy. "Those victims had relatives - brother's, sister's, mother's, father's, son's, daughter's. It isn't pushing the realms of possibilty too far to consider that the motive behind Hilda's disappearance is revenge, James."
"What was that about revenge?" asked Harry as she walked back into the room, having deposited Alex in the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream.
Freddy brought her up to speed.
"My God, Daddy, you could be right." said Harry, her detective instinct and strongly developed intuition coming into play. "Hilda's mother, Georgina, was definitely not herself yesterday. I wonder if something's going on in that family."
"I'll tell ya somethin' honey." said Dempsey. "If we weren't in the business we're in and hadn't come across so many unlikely coincidences in our work, I'd have said ya both nutjobs. Let's face it, to any ordinary thinker, Hilda's been snatched by a paedophile. But, like you, I think there's a connection here with her grandfather's past."
"Well, it's pretty tenuous." said Freddy. "But certainly not to be dismissed out of court."
"When do we tell Hilda's parents?" asked Harry.
"I guess we should go now - see them face to face." replied Dempsey. "Alex can stay here with you, Freddy. We should be back later tonight."
"Yes, no time like the present." agreed Freddy. "And by the time you return, I may well have heard from Simon Wiesenthal."
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived outside the gates to the Steele mansion. Harry got out of the car and walked up to the intercom bolted to the wall, pushed the relevant button and waited for an answer.
"Yes? Who is it?" came a metallic sounding yet brusque, male voice.
"It's Harriet Dempsey." replied Harry. "May I and my husband come in please?"
"Why?"
"It's about your daughter." she said, becoming exasperated. "Look, I don't want to stand here all night! Can you open your gates please?"
After a short pause, the gates swung open, Dempsey accelerating through them and up to the somewhat ostentatious double front doors, which opened as they alighted from the car.
Arthur Steele stood there, staring at them, his expression neutral, impossible to read. A feeling of unease made Harry shiver.
"What about my daughter?" Arthur suddenly asked.
"Not out here, pal." replied Dempsey, taking an instant dislike to him. "Why don' ya ask us in, then we can tell ya why we're here."
Arthur stood aside and ushered them through the door, then led them into the vast lounge where Georgina was sitting in a soft, expansive sofa. She knew instantly something had happened to Hilda, knowing that Harry wouldn't be there otherwise.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth.
Harry sat down beside her and took her hand in hers, then explained exactly what had transpired, Georgina in tears before she had finished. Arthur, by contrast, took a different view.
"You pair of bumbling idiots!" he spat. "How could you allow this to happen!"
Dempsey glared at him before moving very close.
"You can cut that attitude out, buster!" he hissed. "Whatever's happened to your daughter was beyond anyone's control. No-one is to be blamed. I am a Detective Chief Inspector and my wife is a Detective Inspector, so no-one is better placed to find Hilda. I guess you'd better simmer down."
"Who are you with, the Met?" asked Arthur.
"No, we're not." replied Dempsey. "Anyway, it's not important who employs us. Just take it as red, that we're experienced an' we're gonna get ya daughter back."
"I demand to know who you're working for!" shouted Arthur.
"An' I told ya it ain't important!" retorted Dempsey, angrily.
"For goodness sake, Arthur, please!" sobbed Georgina. "Aren't you more concerned with finding out what's happened to Hilda?"
"Presumably they, whoever they are, will want money for her return." said Arthur, ignoring his wife's clear distress. "I'm to expect a ransom demand, I suppose."
"I guess that's the next move, so I'm gonna arrange for a tap on ya phones." replied Dempsey. "You okay with that?"
"Yes of course we are." said Georgina, glaring at her husband, annoyed at his almost indifferent attitude to this devastating news.
"We'll have to include your office phones." said Harry. "We've no idea where or when that call will come. And we'll also have to install some software into your mobile telephones too, so we can track the call if they contact you via one of them. So, if you're in agreement perhaps we can get these things in place this evening."
"Yes, yes do what you must." replied Arthur.
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By the time Theresa Creighton arrived at her destination, Hilda was still motionless in the back seat of the car. Pulling into the empty school carpark, she drove round to the rear entrance and stopped.
Taking a bunch of keys fom the glovebox, she opened the back door, went inside and unlocked another door. Then she dragged Hilda out and carried her inside, kicked open the inner door and descended a flight of steps until she was in a small, dark, windowless room. The light from the corridor was just sufficient for her to see a small, single bed in the corner of the room and onto which she tipped Hilda.
She then flicked on a switch on the wall, a dim bulb glowing from a thin cord dangling from the ceiling.
Glancing over at the still sleeping little girl, she smirked, went out and locked the door behind her.