Hidden In Plain Sight.
Chapter Eleven.
In the early hours of Tuesday morning, Harry was woken by Alex calling out for her. She slipped out of bed quietly, Dempsey stirring in response but not waking, although he did start mumbling incoherently before falling silent again. Harry giggled as she remembered a conversation she'd had about him with her close friend Angela at her engagement party.
"He's certainly a maverick, Angela." Harry had said. "Probably the only time he ever behaves himself is when he's asleep!"
"Yeah, but you don't know what he's dreaming about!" Angela had chuckled and Harry continued to giggle at the memory as she made her way to Alex's bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stroked Alex's forehead, immediately noting how hot she was.
"Oh dear, you have a temperature, Scrumpy." she whispered. "No school for you tomorrow."
"I don't feel very well, Mummy." moaned Alex, beginning to cough uncontrollably.
"I know, darling." replied Harry, continuing with her soothing strokes and waiting for her coughing to stop. "I'll stay with you, just try and go back to sleep. I'll be here."
She nursed her for the remainder of the night, wiping her runny nose, supplying endless damp flannels to her forehead to keep her cool and making her drink several glasses of water. At breakfast time she put a call into the family doctor, John Sturgess, who arrived half an hour later and diagnosed that Alex was suffering from a bout of flu.
"Just keep her warm in bed, Harriet and hydrated. She'll feel worse before she feels better, but she should peak in a day or two and then she'll be on the mend. Best she stays away from school this week though, as she'll be infectious even when she's over it. I'll leave you a prescription for some medicine to aid her tickly cough."
"Thanks John." said Harry. "Sorry to have called you out so early."
"Don't mention it." he smiled. "That's what I'm here for."
After he'd left, Harry glanced at her watch. It had just gone eight o'clock so she called the Richmond Collegiate, knowing that the headmistress always arrived around seven thirty without fail.
"Good morning. Agatha Hargreaves-Wilson speaking."
"Good morning Mrs Hargreaves-Wilson, this is Harriet Dempsey, Alexandra's mother."
"Yes, hello Lady Harriet. How many I help you?"
"Alex has gone down with the flu, so I'm calling to let you know I'll be keeping her at home for the rest of this week."
"Oh, poor little thing." replied Agatha. "She isn't the first, Lady Harriet. One or two pupils succumbed to it yesterday as well as some staff members. I'll let Theresa Creighton know, she's our librarian but is standing in on form duty this week."
"Theresa Creighton." repeated Harry, momentarily distracted by Raif, who happened to be passing her in the hall and had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her. "Er, okay. Do I contact Ms Creighton when Alex is fit to return?"
"Yes, yes, that will be fine." answered Agatha. "And do give Alexandra my best. Tell her I hope she feels better very soon."
"I will and thank you Mrs Hargreaves-Wilson. Goodbye." replied Harry, staring at Raif as she replaced the receiver. "Raif, good morning. You look as though you've just seen a ghost. Are you alright?"
"Did I just hear you mention a Theresa Creighton?" he asked.
"Yes you did. She works at Alex's school. Why?"
"Get your father and James and meet me in the study." instructed Raif and before Harry could question him any further, watched him scurry quickly into Freddy's study. Fifteen minutes later, they found him sitting at Freddy's desk, a file open before him.
Freddy lifted it up to see whose file it was.
"Jonny Creighton." he said and paused for a moment, Jonny's young, eager face filling his memory. "My goodness, Jonny."
"Who's Jonny Creighton?" asked Dempsey, still a little bleary-eyed and feeling he could kill for a cup of coffee.
Raif looked up at them.
"Jonny Creighton died under interrogation at the hands of Kurt Scheel, who finally shot him." he said, solemnly. "And he had a sister, Theresa. I had a four year affair with her in the fifties. "
"So?" puzzled Dempsey. "What's with this Theresa broad?"
"Because, Dempsey, she's now employed at Alex's school!" said Harry. The penny that had been rolling around in Dempsey's still sleepy head with nowhere to go, suddenly dropped into it's slot.
"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "That's the connection we've been looking for!"
"Yes it is." confirmed Raif. "I can recall now as if it were yesterday - a picnic Theresa and I had one summer's afternoon. We were talking about the war and she asked if I'd ever come across a Jonny Creighton. It was then it dawned on me they were related. And something else..."
"What?" asked Harry, staring intently at him and watching as his features contorted with the memories flooding back.
"She wanted to know who had been instrumental in Jonny's death." said Raif, quietly, as if he suspected they might be overheard. "So I told her about Scheel torturing and then murdering Jonny."
He went very quiet for a moment, gathering his emotions together, then continued. "He was also responsible for carrying out the most evil interrogation of my fiance having organised her mass rape beforehand, then packing her off to Ravensbruk..."
His eyes began to fill with tears, Freddy laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, enveloped in his memories too.
"Go on Raif." he urged. "It'll do you good to talk about it again, believe me."
Raif nodded, swallowed and drew breath to continue.
"Helen Barnes was her name and she was the love of my life. And that bastard defiled her, brutalised her like a piece of meat and consigned her to a lingering death by starvation and cruelty..." He broke off in mid sentence again, choking back his emotions.
Tears were running down Harry's cheeks by now, her imagination vivid as she envisaged the different levels of physical and emotional pain Raif and Helen must have endured all those years ago. She pulled a tissue from her dressing gown pocket, dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, leaning into Dempsey as he put a comforting arm around her shoulder.
"But that's not all." said Raif, once more drawing strength to continue and looking at Freddy. "Theresa also wanted to know who sent her brother on that fateful mission in the first place. Innocently, I told her it was you, sir. I thought nothing of it at the time, but later she said if she ever saw Scheel again she'd kill him. In the light of Hilda's kidnapping, I wonder just how close little Alex has been to being taken too. I'm convinced now, you see, that Theresa has Hilda Steele. Rather than kill Scheel, she wants to humiliate him and have him universally denounced and reviled for his past, at the same time avenging her brother's death. There's nothing to say she might want the same for you, sir."
"Well I'll tell ya'll somethin'." said Dempsey. "She's workin' alone, cos if she'd got some help on board, she'd have grabbed Alex when she got Hilda."
Harry shivered at the thought of how close they may have come to losing Alex to this deranged woman. Dempsey squeezed her close, instinctively knowing her thoughts.
"Come on princess." he said. "Time we paid a visit to the school, grabbed that Theresa broad, an' found out where she's gotten Hilda holed up."
Harry nodded.
"Mind if I come too?" asked Raif.
Dempsey looked at him and nodded. "I guess we owe you that."
Theresa Creighton was in a foul temper when she awoke that morning, thanks to a vicious hangover courtesy of the bottle of whisky she'd emptied down her throat the night before - a night spent mostly awake in a drunken stupour coupled with consummate anger, betrayal and revenge and brooding about snipping off Hilda's little finger before delivering it to Steele.
Now, however, in the cold light of day and sober, she wasn't so sure she had the stomach for it and even when she thought of Jonny and the pain he must have been put through, she wasn't convinced that maiming a little four year old girl was the way to punish Kurt Scheel. Perhaps if she could get hold of a gun, she might corner Scheel and inflict a painful death upon him.
She began to imagine shooting him in the arms first, then the kneecaps, finally his groin and just watch as he slowly bled to death in terrible pain, pleading for her, in vain, to put a bullet in his head and stop the interminable suffering.
'Yes!' she thought. 'That was far more fitting!'
Nevertheless, she was going to deliver another note, this time explaining that if he didn't admit to who he was in the next twenty-four hours, a piece of Hilda's anatomy was the next thing he'd receive in his morning's post.
Ever the actress however, she was all sweetness and light when Agatha Hargreaves-Wilson informed her, when she arrived at school, of Alex's illness and subsequent convalescence at home for the remainder of the week. That was of little consequence to her now - she'd abandoned her plan to take Alex - but she feigned suitable concern and assured her headmistress she'd be vigilant in noting if any of the children in her charge showed signs of falling ill that day.
Having excused herself, she quickly made her way to the basement to check on Hilda, who she found sitting on the bed, her back up against the wall, with legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees. The bucket had been used, her water bottle was empty and the paper her sandwiches had been wrapped up in, lay disgarded on the stone floor.
She looked pale, drained and tired and burst into tears as soon as she saw Theresa.
"You can stop that noise!" snarled Theresa, drawing out another pack of sandwiches, a bottle of water and a toilet roll from her shoulder bag and throwing them down on the bed.
"Wh..why have y..you brought me here?" sobbed Hilda. "I wa..want to go. ."
"Be quiet!" hissed Theresa, raising her hand as if to slap her. "I swear I'll beat you black and blue if you don't shut the hell up!"
"No!" screamed Hilda, staring at her, fast becoming hysterical, her eyes wide with fright.
A few minutes earlier, Dempsey, Harry and Raif had arrived at the school and gone straight into Agatha Hargreaves-Wilson's office. Having explained the reason for their visit, Agatha had immediately taken them to Theresa's study.
"She was here a few minutes ago because I saw her and spoke to her." said Agatha. "She might be in the staff room."
Maybe it was the way Agatha had said those last words, or maybe it had been the myriad of classrooms, studies and offices in the school that had triggered the thought that suddenly hit Harry. She didn't know the answer, but she grabbed Dempsey by the arm and took him to one side.
"Dempsey! What if Hilda's here, in the school!" she whispered, urgently.
"Huh? Here?" he repeated.
"Yes! Here somewhere." she echoed. "What better place to hide her! Right under the noses of everybody!"
"Jesus Harry! ya could be onta somethin' there!" he said and immediately turned to the headmistress. "Is there a basement or some kinda unused storeroom in this place?"
"Er why yes, we have a basement." replied Agatha. "Why do you ask?"
"Where is it!?" demanded Dempsey, ignoring her question. Agatha understood suddenly.
"Follow me!" she said and marched quickly out of the room, the others hot on her heels.
As they reached the stone steps leading down to the basement, they could hear someone shouting in anger, followed by the sound of slaps. Dempsey was the first to charge through the door, but when Harry saw Theresa slapping an hysterical Hilda and screaming obscenities at her, she turned into an enraged lioness, sprinting past Dempsey and, grabbing Theresa by the shoulder, spun her round, drew back a bunched right fist and, with all the strength she could muster, punched her squarely on the nose. Theresa's legs buckled from under her and, like a puppet who'd had her strings cut, she dropped down hard on her backside, dazed, blood streaming into her mouth.
Harry then went to Hilda and wrapped her arms around her, before gently lifting her off the bed and walking her slowly out of the room into the fresh air, Agatha joining her and instructing them to follow her back to her office where they could comfort her and call her parents.
Meanwhile, Raif had been rooted to the spot on seeing a crazed Theresa beating the little girl, unable to mentally compute that it was the same woman who had been so warm and loving towards him all those years ago.
As Theresa's eyes re-focussed, she stared disbelievingly at him, a look of total shock on her face.
"Raif?" she queried. "Raif, is it really you?"
"Yes Theresa, it's really me." he replied, shaking himself out of the past. He slipped his hands beneath her armpits and lifted her up to sit on the bed. Settling down next to her, he drew a handkerchief from a pocket and began wiping the blood from her nose and mouth. "What's become of you, Theresa? I don't recognise the woman I've just seen attacking a defenceless little girl."
Tears formed in her eyes. It was suddenly a defining moment. Fifty years of grieving for her beloved brother, all of them spent plotting and searching for his killer, landed on her like a ten ton weight and she was crushed by it.
She looked at Raif, then up at Dempsey standing next to him, staring impassively at her and, in a defeated, beaten gesture, pulled off her wig, allowing it to drop to the floor.
"I'm sorry." she whispered, lowering her eyes and bowing her head, her teardrops falling freely. "I'm so very sorry."
Silence descended for a moment or two, eventually broken by Dempsey.
"Okay sister." he said, taking his badge and ID out of his pocket and holding them up for her to see. "I'm gonna read ya ya rights."
She nodded, brushing her wet cheeks with one hand, her head still bowed.
"Theresa Creighton. I am arrestin' you for blackmail an' the kidnappin' an' assault of a minor. You do not have to say anythin'. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned somethin' which you later rely on in court. Anythin' you do say may be given in evidence. Understood?"
She nodded again, wiped away her tears once more and got to her feet, Raif putting an arm around her as they followed Dempsey to his car. One or two families were arriving as they walked across the car park, but little notice was taken of them.
"You stay with her Raif." ordered Dempsey, as Raif helped her into back of the Cosworth. "I'll go find Harry and Hilda."
He made his way to Agatha's office, finding Hilda perched on Harry's knee, her head resting on her shoulder, eyes closed.
"She's exhausted." whispered Harry, her left arm around Hilda, her hand gently stroking her back while she sucked on the knuckles of her right hand. "Georgina and Arthur are on their way. Where's Theresa and Raif?"
"In the car. I've read her her rights but we'll have to get a signed statement." replied Dempsey, noting her discomfort. "Say honey, that was a mother of a punch. Are you okay?"
"Bit sore. I expect it will swell up a bit later." said Harry, before continuing. "She's going to need psychiatric help, Dempsey."
"Yeah, I guess." he replied, then changing the subject again. "We'd better get that hand of yours seen to, princess."
"I'm finding all this very hard to take in." butted in Agatha, miserably. "Theresa has never given me a moments cause to doubt her in any way. It's unbelievable that she could shatter my trust so absolutely and be so cruel to a little girl."
At that moment Georgina and Arthur rushed into the office, Georgina bursting into tears of joy and relief to find Hilda safe. But she came up short when she saw her daughter's reddened cheeks from the slapping she'd been given.
"What's happened to her!?" she wailed. "Who's done this to her!?"
"I'm afraid her kidnapper has Georgina." replied Harry. "We got to here a little too late to prevent it."
"Kidnapper!?" exclaimed Arthur. "You mean it's been just one person who's held her captive?"
"Yes Mr Steele." replied Harry. "A Theresa Creighton who works here and has kept her hidden in the school's basement."
"Where is she!?" shouted Arthur, ignorant of the fact that his raised voice was frightening Hilda, who'd been woken by it and was crying again.
Dempsey, who had taken an instant dislike to him the moment he'd met him, quietly walked up to him and stared into his eyes.
"Listen buster. We got the culprit and we will deal with her. Don' ya think ya should be concentratin' on seein' ya daughter safely home an' makin' sure she gets over this - pronto? She's gonna need a lotta love, understandin' and comfort from her Mom and Dad. She's been locked up in a stinkin' cellar for days with nothin' but a bucket by her, an' it's gonna take her time ta get over it. She's traumatised, an' will probably keep ya both up at night with her nightmares. I'd like ta think ya'll be there for her, sport."
Whilst Arthur stood there looking meek, Harry's heart swelled at Dempsey's words and the compassion in his voice. Her eyes shone as she fell in love with him all over again.
Georgina knelt down in front of Harry and helped calm Hilda, then looked up at her husband.
"We should go." she said, her tone flat, then taking Hilda's hand said. "Come along darling. Let's get you home."
"Er yes, yes we should get home." agreed Arthur, still visibly chastened.
Georgina looked at Dempsey and Harry.
"Thank you." she said. "Thank you so much."
Arthur nodded at them.
"Before ya go, Mr Steele." said Dempsey, looking him in the eyes once more. "Where's ya father?"
"My father?" queried Arthur. "Why do you need to know?"
"Right now, that's my business." replied Dempsey, his eyes still boring into him. By now, Arthur knew not to mess with him.
"I assume he'll be in his office." stated Arthur. "Er, if not he'll be at home I would imagine."
"Much obliged." said Dempsey, a tad sarcastically.
After they'd left, Harry and Dempsey thanked Agatha and joined Raif and a now sleeping Theresa.
"What now?" asked Raif.
"We're gonna take her to our HQ, have her sign a statement and put her in a holdin' cell." said Dempsey. "We'll apply for a court hearin', an' in the meantime find her a lawyer."
"Will she be awarded bail?" asked Raif. "I'm prepared to speak up for her and pay for a good barrister."
"Depends on the judge so far as bail is concerned." replied Dempsey. "She's guilty as hell, Raif, why do you wanna get involved?"
"Yes, I'm not denying she is guilty and she must be punished." said Raif. "But I want to be there for her when she's paid her dues. I've known a different Theresa than the one before you here. I want to see to it that she gets the help she so obviously needs. With the appropriate treatment, I believe she can be healed and restored to the Theresa I knew when we first met."
"Well okay Raif. Good luck with that." replied Dempsey, starting the car. "Now all we gotta do is nail that sonofabitch Steele!"