zipped his coat up fully. The sky was clear and the moon full; an infinite number of stars helped to brighten the dark sky. It was cold. George could see his breath forming as his breathing became more erratic with nerves. With each step, the beeping grew louder. He was heading in the right direction.
Where Quiet Lane turned into Wood Cliffe Cottage Lane there was a junction. Clough Lane was a very narrow road full of cavernous potholes and broken tarmac. The beeping was coming from down this road.
Surrounded by empty fields and leafless trees, Clough Lane was in complete darkness. He took the small torch from the pocket of his coat and turned it on. Pointing it at the ground, he edged along the road into the unknown.
The sound of the car horn was definitely coming from down here. He rounded a bend and aimed the torch upwards. The weak beam hit something; a car, a silver car. He knew the make straightaway, a Citroen Xsara. His son had one in white. This was the offending car whose horn was shattering the silence.
He picked up the pace and was about to call out a greeting when he stopped dead in his tracks. The torch beam had picked up something from the side of the road. Slumped against a tree was a man; or a close approximation of a man. It was difficult to make out any features as he had been severely beaten; the nose had erupted at some point, the left eye was swollen shut, and the right side of his face was a mangled mess from where a bullet had exploded in him.
George put a shaking cold hand to his mouth. He could smell the metallic tang of blood. He could taste it. The sight was shocking, yet he could not tear his eyes away from it. This was once a person, a living human being, and someone had inflicted an unimaginable amount of pain and torture upon his body.
The loud beeping brought George out of his reverie. He pointed the torch to the side of the car. It was covered in smeared blood. The passenger door window was shattered. Slowly, he walked around the front of the car towards the driver’s side. He could see the door was open but could not see anyone in the driver’s seat; yet the SOS beeping continued.
‘Oh, dear God.’ He gasped.
Half hanging out of the car was the stricken body of a woman. Her face was a mess of sticky drying blood; her long hair was tangled and matted. She was naked from the waist down and was literally drenched in blood. One hand held on to her stomach where blood pumped out between her fingers. The other hand was rhythmically banging on the horn. She was half in, half out of the car, her body at an uncomfortable angle. She looked up and saw George through swollen eyes. She stopped the beeping and slumped to the ground. There was a brief smile on her face before her body gave up and she lost consciousness.
George dug the phone out of his coat pocket and dialled 999. He gave his location and tried to say what had happened but he couldn’t find the words. After he ended the call he phoned his wife. He told her she would soon see the flashing lights of the police but not to panic as everything was all right. It was the first time he had ever lied to his wife.
CARL MEAGAN: ONE YEAR ON
By Andrea Fullerton
Tomorrow marks the first anniversary of the disappearance of seven-year-old Carl Meagan.
Exactly twelve months ago, Annabel Meagan, Carl’s grandmother, was looking after him at his parents’ luxury home in Dore, Sheffield, when she was bludgeoned to death. Carl was kidnapped and a ransom was demanded. However, a catalogue of errors by South Yorkshire Police led to the kidnappers breaking contact with the Meagan family and Carl has not been heard of since.
Carl’s parents – Philip 37, and Sally, 34 – have spent the past year in limbo as they desperately search for their only child.
‘It’s not knowing that is the most difficult part. He could be anywhere in the world. I’m his mother. I should know exactly where he is day and night and I haven’t a clue. I’ve failed him,’ Sally said. ‘I never left him alone. I never let him out of my sight. He was my world and now I just feel empty.’
The Meagan family believe they were being watched for several days in the run-up to the kidnapping. On the night in question, Philip and Sally were attending an award ceremony for Yorkshire Businessman of the Year in Leeds. They were not due back until the following day and Philip’s mother, Annabel, was looking after Carl.
‘We had nothing to worry about. We knew he was safe with his grandmother. She doted on him and he loved her to pieces. As far as we knew he was safe. They both were. When we got back the next day it was pure hell.’
Philip Meagan, owner of Nature’s Dinner, a chain of organic restaurants in South Yorkshire, says the blame is entirely on South Yorkshire Police. ‘The whole investigation was badly handled from day one. From Carl going missing to the ransom demand it was two days. Those 48 hours were a nightmare and we had no support from the police at all. They just left us.’
Leading the investigation was Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke, who, following the botched ransom drop, was suspended from the force. She has since returned to work to continue leading the Murder Investigation Team.
‘The ransom was for a quarter of a million pounds. It wasn’t easy but we managed to get the money together. For some reason the kidnappers kept changing the location of the drop. I think the amount of press attention was too much for them. They eventually decided on Graves Park.
‘It was DCI Darke who organized it all. She had the parameters covered and everything was in place. We had no reason to doubt we wouldn’t be getting our Carl home. She came back to the house an hour later saying it had all blown up. We waited and waited but we heard nothing from the kidnappers.’
It was later revealed that the kidnappers had called DCI Darke demanding the whereabouts of the ransom money. However, they were at a different entrance to the park, and in panic, they fled. That was the last anyone heard from the kidnappers and Carl.
‘It is absolutely disgusting that that woman has been allowed to return to duty. She shouldn’t have been suspended, she should have been sacked. She’s not fit to do the job,’ Philip continued.
DCI Darke was unavailable for comment yesterday, but South Yorkshire Police issued a short statement: ‘While every effort was made to communicate with the kidnappers to ensure Carl’s safe return, events beyond our control occurred and we were unable to succeed. However, the Meagan case is still ongoing and continuously being investigated. We will keep looking for Carl until he is found.’
Philip Meagan issued a direct plea to the people holding Carl. ‘If you still have Carl, please take very good care of him. If you’re worried about handing him back, just leave him in a public place and make an anonymous call to us telling us where he is and we will collect him. There will be no more action taken against you. We just want him back home so much.’
Sally continued: ‘If Carl is reading this I just want you to know that your mummy and daddy love you very much and we always will. It may take us a while, but we’ll come and find you.’
To mark the anniversary of Carl’s disappearance there will be a special service at Sheffield Cathedral. Players at Sheffield United, who the Meagan family support, will wear special messages on their shirts at this weekend’s fixture at Bramall Lane.
Matilda Darke, having read the article for the third time, threw the newspaper onto the floor and slumped back into the sofa,
