NO HELP FOR THE DYING (Gavin & Palmer) Page 17

  ‘How do you know they actually had him?’

  ‘I thought of that. I demanded proof that he was in their care or I’d get the police involved. Every now and then they let us have something… a comment or something that could have only come from Nicholas. Something about himself or school or a friend, things like that.’ He toyed with a beer mat, the ghosts of the memories in his face. ‘It was when they told me he’d talked about being gay that I knew for sure. It wasn’t something we’d made public, you see. How else could they have known? It was quite wicked, what they did. It was as if they’d kidnapped him. I think they worked on him, his insecurities and his… fears, until he couldn’t distinguish between what was real or false.’

  ‘Brainwashing?’

  ‘No. They’re too clever for that. They don’t want acolytes, or groups of disciples going around preaching their philosophies - they don’t need them. They’re far more interested in money.’

  ‘And the parents’ undying gratitude,’ Riley added. It confirmed what she’d thought. It was a neat scheme. What parents wouldn’t be grateful to the group responsible for returning a lost son or daughter – and with no hint of a threat or a demand. She wondered if Katie Pyle had always worn her crucifix, or if it had been put in place in the final few minutes. ‘But how do they get them to come in? Most kids these days are too streetwise.’

  ‘They use Sirens.’

  Riley stared at him. ‘Come again?’

  ‘Sirens. It’s a term taken from Greek mythology. They find a connection to the target - a friend, someone they can work on to draw them in. If they can’t find a close contact they make one - usually a person of the opposite sex. Once the target is drawn in, the Siren’s work is done.’

  Nikki’s words about Delphine Wishman being introduced to the Church by a boy she knew came floating back. ‘What happens to the Siren afterwards?’

  ‘Unless they can use them again, they push them away. It’s not hard; these kids are accustomed to rejection - what’s another along the way? As I said, it’s all about money. Profit. Don’t confuse that with compassion.’

  ‘What else?’

  He shrugged. ‘People in the States said Deane had a reputation for fast living and grandiose schemes. That’s how he ran into trouble; investors in his church schemes discovered there was no payback other than the gratitude of The Lord. They didn’t want to wait that long. When the complaints became public, he shut up shop and moved over here. Since then his priorities have changed. He still likes money but now he’s developed a taste for power and influence, mixing with so-called society. Same game, different style.’

  ‘And they fall for it.’

  ‘Evidently. And in the meantime he keeps gathering more new targets and grateful parents.’ It was a frightening thought that if cultivated carefully, de Haan/Deane’s scheme could continue indefinitely, boosted every year by a new intake of relieved and beholden families.

  ‘But surely there must be some who tell him to get lost?’

  ‘Of course. If he can, he applies more pressure - especially if there’s anything unsavoury in the background. Don’t forget he has these kids for weeks, talking them round, prying into every deep, dark corner of their minds. Some are bound to come complete with secrets the parents would rather remained hidden.’

  ‘Child abuse?’

  ‘Yes. If they can be coerced, he applies subtle pressure. A word here, a hint there. But never anything direct. He’s too smart for that. If they still don’t pay, he cuts his losses. No fee means no return - in the financial sense. Deane is a very practical businessman. He doesn’t need to make enemies.’

  ‘It makes sense.’ Riley chewed her lip for a while. She’d been putting off the obvious question, but decided it couldn’t wait any longer. ‘But you didn’t get Nicholas back.’

  From the expression on Friedman’s face, she almost wished she hadn’t asked. Yet she needed to know the answer, because what had affected him through his son had also struck at the heart of Katie’s family. And others.

  ‘About six months before Nicholas left,’ Friedman said softly, ‘I and a couple of friends had set up a small company offering legal advice on the Internet. In the beginning, we restricted ourselves to things like family law, contracts, property and dealing with the police, courts and so on. The first signs were good. Better than good. We were a discount shop for people wanting cheap, reliable advice before they ran up big fees with their own solicitors.’ He paused and Riley could feel the awful dread of what was coming. ‘We became victims of our own success. We took on a couple of tax experts, and to justify the extra costs, encouraged them to broaden the field into the corporate market. It seemed a sure-fire winner. We began to advertise, setting up the company headquarters here in London. We had to borrow heavily, but the potential was enormous. Then one of the tax people was asked to advise a small group of offshore companies operating out of Gibraltar. It was simple stuff to begin with; setting up shell corporations, tax planning, building investment funds and so on. Plenty of others were doing it, but we were cheaper. Gradually we all became involved, to share the load.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Some of the advice given was flawed. Deeply so. The clients went ahead with an investment scheme on the basis of what we’d told them, and lost everything. Unfortunately, they hadn’t told us everything, and ended up dragging a lot of other people down with them.’ He stared down into his glass. ‘We hadn’t done our homework properly. It was awful.’

  ‘But you had professional indemnity, surely?’

  ‘Yes. But when your other clients suddenly lose confidence and melt away, and the banks get nervous, professional indemnity isn’t much good.’ The creases in his face deepened with bitterness. ‘The whole fabric collapsed around us. It was staggering. We paid off a lot of the debts but it wasn’t enough. I was suspended from my job at the MOD.’

  ‘And Deane found out?’

  He nodded. ‘That’s when I discovered what he was really like… when he realised I had nothing to give. He began making vague comments about how the news of our son being gay might become public knowledge. I thought it was my imagination: they were a charity and a church, surely they couldn’t be making threats like that? He began ignoring my calls, so I went to see him. Deane has two men working with him who do all the legwork. They also operate the soup vans, although that’s just a cover for finding these kids, of course. They wouldn’t let me in. Not long afterwards they delivered a message.’

  ‘What sort of message?’

  ‘The same as the one they just sent you. They destroyed my home.’

  ‘Is one of these men called Quine?’

  ‘Yes. The other is Meaker – an American. He and Quine are like twins, although I think it’s a look they cultivated to intimidate people. The three of them are the Church of Flowing Light. They are all very dangerous; you shouldn’t underestimate them.’

  ‘I don’t. Did you report them?’

  ‘More than once. The last time was after they visited my house. I went to the police but they couldn’t find any evidence it was them. They said it looked more like kids trying to score money for drugs, and it got out of hand.’ He shook his head. ‘By then things between my wife and I were at rock bottom. The distress had got to both of us, but I suppose I’d ignored her. It proved the last straw and she left. Not that I blame her. Then my financial problems became public knowledge, and there were rumours about an insurance scam. I kept a low profile after that, although I’m pretty sure Quine and Meaker would like to meet me in a dark alley somewhere.’ He gave her a grim look. ‘Pastor de Haan is not a man who forgets those who cross him.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  ‘Not long afterwards I met a couple who’d been cut off by Deane in the same way. Oh, he was very careful in the way he did it. But the method was the same: no money meant no help. And if pressure didn’t - or couldn’t - work, then all contact ceased.’

  ‘What about Nicholas?’
>
  ‘I heard from him once afterwards. He’d left the Church and was trying to get work. I think he was ashamed of what he’d done… of the pain he’d caused. I tried to talk him round, but it was like talking with a stranger. I thought brainwashing at first. Then I realised the Church had done the worst thing possible… they’d convinced him that I’d refused to have him back. They hadn’t mentioned the financial problems or the lengths I’d gone to find him. He was devastated.’ He stared into the distance. ‘I begged him to come back… tried to convince him he’d been used. The last thing he said to me was that he could never trust me again.’ His eyes swivelled round to Riley and his voice broke. ‘He was a confused and unhappy boy, Miss Gavin. He didn’t deserve that.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘They found him in the river two days later. By Putney Bridge.’

  Chapter 29

  Riley held her breath, fearful that breaking the silence would stop his train of thought.

  Friedman seemed frozen for a moment, before continuing doggedly. ‘The police said he might have fallen in while under the influence. He’d been drinking, they said. There was also some… damage to the body. They thought a boat or something.’

  ‘But you think he was murdered.’

  ‘Yes. I think they panicked. The same way they’ve done with others. They let things get out of control and finally there’s only one solution. Mostly, I think it’s Quine’s doing. He’s the coldest human being I’ve ever met.’

  ‘What about Katie?’ Riley’s throat was dry and her voice came out sounding like somebody else.

  ‘She was the one they used to draw Nicholas in. His Siren.’

  ‘I figured.’

  ‘I looked into her family background. It wasn’t difficult. Her father couldn’t have been de Haan’s target - he didn’t have the position or money. In any case, John Pyle was too devout; he would never have fallen for de Haan’s brand of doctrine. That meant they were after me… and whatever I could be milked for. The fact is I believe they had somehow stumbled on Nicholas - maybe through another boy - found out about my job and looked at his background to see how it could be handled. In doing that they chanced upon Katie. She was his only friend: the ideal Siren. They drew her in first and used her to attract him – most likely with promises to help with the pregnancy.’ He paused, then continued: ‘They work on people very skilfully. They don’t fill their heads with mantras or psycho-babble about good works and religion; in fact they concentrate on what they call de-cluttering – clearing their minds of anything to do with the past. Some call it dissociation. It’s during this process that they look for weaknesses or family secrets and exploit them in any way they can. Lies, distortion, suggestion - anything. Remember, these are troubled kids we’re talking about. For the most part they’re going through some kind of trauma in their lives.’

  ‘Like an unexpected pregnancy,’ said Riley, ‘and an unforgiving father.’

  ‘Exactly. They’re desperate enough to believe anything. And if someone sympathetic comes along and supplies a good enough reason for leaving home… well, why not?’

  ‘But what if they decide to go back? Isn’t there a risk they will talk and reveal everything?’

  ‘Reveal what? That the Church took them in and gave them support? Fed them, clothed them... gave them a friend when they needed one? Deane is very careful; he doesn’t tell the kids anything they don’t need to know. Who would believe otherwise? The parents are usually so relieved to have them back, they’ll sweep the whole episode under the carpet. Same with the kids, especially after what they’ve been through. And all courtesy of the Church of Flowing Light.’

  ‘But if the Church discovers a juicy secret along the way, they profit from that, too.’

  Friedman nodded.

  ‘How did you meet Henry Pearcy?’

  ‘The first time was about eight years ago. I’d gone to speak to Deane directly. I’d had no luck by phone so I decided to try a personal approach. There was nobody in. As I was walking across the car park, Henry arrived and asked if he could help. I don’t think he knew about me or… Nicholas… he was simply being kind.’

  ‘Did he say what he was doing there?’

  ‘Helping out. I got the impression he was a casual volunteer. He seemed a gentle soul, but he couldn’t help, so I left.’

  ‘When did you see him again?’

  ‘He rang me out of the blue about two weeks ago. He said he’d kept track of me but hadn’t told anyone. He said he was still part of the Church but… he had things to tell me. He sounded upset. I didn’t trust him at first - I’d had one or two close brushes over the years with Quine and Meaker - but we arranged to meet one day in a pub not far from here. He insisted we sit in a corner, near a fire exit. He told me that as well as being a volunteer for the Church, he’d been asked to run their database.’

  ‘What sort of database?’

  ‘About the runaways and their parents; names, addresses, employers - anything the Church asked for. I asked him why he did this and he said it cut some corners to help bring families together. The more information they had, he said, the easier it was to make a judgement on how to deal with each case. He explained that he had access to extensive data through his press job, and the Church paid for him to access other databases where needed. Some of the information was highly confidential, but in a way it all sounded logical and practical, if a little unethical.’ He pulled a face. ‘The fact is, when your child goes missing, ethics go out of the window.’

  Riley was stunned. ‘So Henry could build a dossier on every family from scratch.’ It explained how he’d known about her connection with Katie Pyle; he must have stumbled on her name while trawling through some press archives. No doubt finding where Susan Pyle had moved to would have been no problem. It also explained why Henry had such a large collection of business directories in his study. All tools of his adopted trade.

  ‘That’s right. He knew things about me I’d almost forgotten; my schools, job details, colleagues, career path - even my wife’s family. The detail was frightening. I didn’t know our lives were so open.’

  ‘How did he explain that?’

  ‘As far as he knew they were exactly what they seemed to be: a charitable organisation helping the disadvantaged. He wasn’t really on the inside, and knew nothing about the Church’s previous history in the States. All he was doing was providing a resource for them to use in their work. For a while, that was enough.’

  ‘And you believed that?’

  ‘Sure. Why not? I think Henry had suffered tragedy in his own life, and belonging to the Church made him feel wanted, which is their speciality. Then, not long ago, he stumbled on something which revealed what they were doing with runaway kids.’

  ‘Did he say what?’

  ‘It was a bank transaction slip. He recognised the name and realised that all the time they’d been telling the parents they were still searching for the runaway, they’d got the child hidden away in a room at Broadcote. He thought he’d confused the dates, but his suspicions grew when he overheard Quine and Meaker talking about getting rid of somebody.’

  ‘The runaway?’

  ‘No. Me. By then I’d long been a thorn in their sides, constantly asking questions.’ He gave a bitter smile. ‘I suppose I was pretty relentless over the years. I was lucky they decided to leave me alone for most of that time. Careful, too. Anyway, Henry started digging back in the files. When he began comparing dates with the time Nicholas left home, it all became clear. He found the entire edifice, far from being charitable, was actually based on something deeply sinister. I think the whole idea destroyed him. It was one shock too many. I haven’t been able to contact him since. I think Quine and Meaker may have taken him.’

  Riley thought about the Henry she had known. In spite of his news background, in a vulnerable state, he would have been easy meat for someone to take advantage of. ‘Why did he give you my name?’

  ‘He said you’d been involved on the Ka
tie Pyle story - and he’d always admired you, I think.’ Friedman smiled faintly. ‘He described you as tenacious and said he’d been following your career over the years. It seemed a natural idea to get you involved.’

  ‘But why has it taken so long for you to find me?’

  ‘Over the years, after I found out what was happening, I became ill. These things creep up on you; the twin evils of obsession and ill health, I suppose. My wife couldn’t cope – she claimed afterwards that she’d first lost Nicholas, then me. The marriage failed and I became very sick. I was out of action for a long time, some of which was in a private nursing home. It was very expensive.’ He smiled dryly, as if relishing a private joke. ‘Although ironically it may have saved me from the careful ministrations of Quine and Meaker; unwittingly, I’d put myself beyond their reach.’

  ‘But Henry knew where you were.’

  ‘Yes. He kept track on the quiet, and caught up with me during one of my spells outside. I had to go back in very recently, for checks.’

  ‘Checks?’ Riley held her breath; she didn’t like the sound of what was coming.

  ‘I have cancer.’

  ‘Oh.’ The word sat between them like a loathsome lead weight, a sentence of death with no repeal. The irony of his sharing the same fate as Susan Pyle was almost too cruel. There was nothing else Riley could say.

  ‘Now I just want to finish things. Before it’s too late.’

  ‘What happened to Katie?’ The question was out before she could stop it, the subconscious mind’s way of filling the gap. If Katie had been the Siren to draw in Nicholas, what had happened to her afterwards?

  Friedman took a while to answer. ‘I don’t know. Nicholas never mentioned her again. She disappeared. My guess is, after the abortion, she couldn’t face going back and started a new life.’