Chapter 3

The forensic evidence came in late at night but both D.C.I. Griffin and PC Johnson were still awake and at the makeshift command post thrown up at the rear of the Harrison's estate. They compared notes and came to the same conclusion that the initial forensics were of absolutely no help at all and they would have to rely on plain old police work. Even the descriptions were conflicting which lead PC Johnson to make the remark,

"Looks like our boy is a tricky one, Gov. He must have used a disguise and kept gloves on the entire time. We don't have any idea which direction he went in with the switch car and the CATVs are of no use because we don't know what we are looking for. The rental is obviously stolen so we won't get any joy from that either."

D.C.I. Griffin was scanning the internet reports on the Harrison's business interests to see if there was any lead from some competitor or enemy the Harrisons had failed to mention. Their attorney seemed a bit too protective and defensive in that regard and he had a suspicion the entire affair might relate to some dealings the Father had with his many business interests. He did notice that there were a series of articles that suggested the couple were headed to a messy divorce because of the husbands philandering and the wife's reputed use of strong spirits.

There had been no phone call as yet but it was early days and he expected things to unfold slowly as was the norm in these highly-charged affairs. The arrival of a messenger in the early morning hours did surprise him because that was a novel means of communication for an abduction of this magnitude. The delivery boy was totally clueless about the nature of the small package and had no idea of the sender or the details of its dispatch. They attempted to contact the supervisor only to be informed that the shift had changed within the past thirty minutes and that the new supervisor only had a time stamp to indicate when the item was dispatched. Apparently, the previous supervisor lived with relatives other than his parents and there was no definable address or phone number to contact him. Even the generally smug and complacent company financial officer was startled at the breach of protocol and promised to put his "people" on it immediately.

One break in the case was the discovery of a monogrammed hanky with traces of chloroform almost in the tracks of the departing switch vehicle. The initials were D.H. strangely the same as the victim's mother but D.C.I. Griffin was positive is was just a matter of coincidence. The other plus was that the muddy track leading away from the switching area was that of an older model Mini-Cooper with the distinctive wavy tread and narrow gauge.

Before they opened the small package, PC Johnson had the team photograph it from every angle and they did a quick scan with the probe to make certain it was not booby-trapped. There was only the note written by Dolly Higgins and a long curly clump of hair from the missing girl to establish their credentials as the perpetrators.

The note was done in standard kidnapping cutting and pasting from newspapers of unknown origin. After extensive testing with their equipment, they determined there were no fingerprints recoverable from the paper or inside of the envelope. The fingerprints on the outside of the envelope would most likely turn out to be of the delivery company personnel and the members of the investigation team who handled it prior to it being placed inside a clear plastic evidence bag. Still, it never hurt to double-check and hope for a miracle.

D.C.I. Griffin was convinced the entire note business was just a "feeling out" phase of the kidnapping operation which seemed to be rather well organized. The opposition appeared to be well versed in the correct procedures to take to avoid capture but he had a gut feeling that they were more in the vein of "wannabes" rather than true professionals.

The Harrisons were quick to make the money available for the drop and the team went through the entire farce of the initial drop just to show the bad guys that they were equally as sincere in wanting the return of the girl safe and sound to her beloved parents.

Max was tempted to giggle when he saw the silly blonde constable place the orange bag in exactly the spot he had directed in the note. He watched her bend over in her short policewoman's skirt showing some interesting leg through his binoculars and unconsciously wetted his lips with his tongue as if tasting her pretty snatch from a distance of almost three hundred meters. He was sitting in the unwashed Mini-Cooper totally unaware of the fact that all motor cars of that make were being scrutinized with extra care ever since the discovery of the tell-tale tire tracks at the switching point.

He felt reasonably certain that his not-quite a sister Dolly had taken the girl to the bathroom using the proper precautions to prevent her escape. It wouldn't help their plans if the girl was allowed to escape before they could get their hands on the money. In fact, his plans included the "accidental" escape of the girl right after the money was safe in their possession. He had made certain she could not see anything other than the small room of her detention and the bathroom at the end of the hall. Neither of which had any special features than those found in millions of similar homes across the entire country.

Now it was time to send in the real instructions.

He would do it by using the disposable phone purchased by a random third party for a set fee using a lock box near their residence. He had Dolly make those arrangements since females were less suspicious than males in such circumstances. She wore one of the many wigs her mother used to wear on the stage when she was assisting her husband in magic performances in front of an audience. Every time she changed her wig, she changed her entire personality and Max was astonished at the conversion. Every now and then, he persuaded her to wear the blonde wig and wiggle obscenely underneath his bulk wearing only her hose and high heels. It was deliciously reminiscent of the time he had to take care of the social services lady who came to check on their parent's lack of attendance at required conferences. He really regretted the necessity of strangling the poor thing but she represented a grave threat to both Dolly and he in that last year before they were legally of age to do anything they wanted. Her name was Hyacinth Smythe-Jones and he had placed her purse and briefcase with her body just before sealing her in behind the new cement block wall in the basement. There was an unfortunate odor for several weeks afterward but it dissipated entirely after that and it was no longer a terrible memory of guilt in his brain.