The Controller Read online

  The Controller

  Linda Coles

  Blue Banana

  Chapter One

  The whir of the drone’s engine sounded like a giant bumblebee approaching in the sky above. It circled the park several times, observing who and what was there, anything that piqued The Controller’s interest, before veering off in the direction of leafy suburban streets and back gardens. Those who heard it looked up searching, pointing, and wondering what it was doing. What was it watching? Was it Big Brother? Or was it someone else, someone with an agenda all their own, someone looking for something specific and quite probably up to no good. Human reaction was always the same, The Controller mused. No one ever thought it was Amazon delivering a book to some lucky person or a takeaway being delivered by a technology-savvy nearby restaurant. No, drones were always a thing to be curious about.

  The drone picked up height and flew back out over the huge evergreen trees to a street several rows further behind. This street was a little more upmarket than the last, houses with big back gardens, conservatories, a place where the more wealthy folks lived. The Controller could hear the whir getting further away but from his control pad he could see exactly where he was and it didn’t take long to spot a prospective target. He let the drone hover while he studied it. There, walking along the road, was a pretty blonde, with her little treasure walking along beside her. He watched to see which house she went into and made a note of it on his phone app, adding it to the other addresses he’d found over recent weeks. This one looked a little more promising than the last one, and after Niles had given him a bollocking last night for bottom feeding rather than going for someone with a higher value, he was happy with his find. He clicked ‘active track’ on his screen and watched the drone take over, following its target and avoiding nearby trees and power poles like it had eyes in its head, which it did, five to be precise. When he’d watched her go into the house, he made a mental note to himself to come back tomorrow and double check the location, that she wasn’t visiting a friend and she did actually live there, just to be thorough; there was no room for mistakes.

  The Controller was an important member of the group; he was the one responsible for finding the right targets and getting the details right. Being such an important cog made him feel good, and wanted. They couldn’t do their job quite as well without him at the controls, though Niles, the group’s self-imposed leader, would never admit that he was extremely talented at it. Niles reckoned they were each easily replaceable but Pete was anxious to fit in and keep working with them. All his life he’d been a bit of an outcast, a geek, someone who was more comfortable sitting in his room surfing the web or playing games than out with his friends socializing. He had no real friends at school and never got invited to kids’ parties, and that hadn’t changed through his teens either, a stint in Juvenile Detention not exactly helping, so he’d stayed in his room by default. Then he’d met Niles and Vic, and the group gave him a purpose, he had a role to fulfill as The Controller, and that made him feel like he had a place in the world, though he wished he could be as forward-thinking and in control as Niles.

  Still, he was happy with his lot – for now. And he loved this part they gave him, to be in control if only for a short time, out choosing targets. They knew they couldn’t really do without him and the drone and the other techy stuff he could do, so they let him tag along, gave him a place in their operation and he was grateful. And the money wasn’t bad.

  Focusing his attention back on the little screen, he brought the drone back to the park and, before it ran out of battery life, circled round one more time to check for any other possible targets. Today he’d found a good one. Niles would be pleased. But they may as well do the other one too, the one Niles had complained about, the one he’d found yesterday, the old lady. Why discriminate? Her money was as good as anyone’s, wasn’t it? She’d had her own little treasure with her and he saw no point in ignoring the opportunity.

  The powerful drone came back in to land by his feet where he stood in a quiet spot just along from the park entrance, and he quickly put it in his backpack. Folks were always suspicious of someone with a drone, and he didn’t want to cause himself a problem, so he hurriedly packed his gear away and set off back to his car to phone in and give Niles and Vic the news on what he’d found. He was sure they would be pleased with him.

  Chapter Two

  Gemma loved going out with Pam and stood patiently waiting as Pam locked the back door, then they set off to the park together. Gemma knew the route by now, they’d been doing it almost every day for the past six years, and she obediently walked beside Pam until they got to the park gate, at which point Pam would bend down and remove her leash, letting Gemma run around and stretch her legs. Every evening, rain or shine, would be the same and Gemma loved it, it was the highlight of her day. Pam let her go as usual and slowly walked alone on the pathway as Gemma charged off into the distance, bobbing in and out of trees and scaring birds off the grass. There were always a few dog walkers in the park at this hour and she knew many by face. She’d never stopped to chat with them but they were on nodding terms, with just a couple of exceptions. A couple of the older folks were happy to stop and chat, usually when Pam sat for a rest on a bench, but more often than not, they kept themselves to themselves and continued moving. Gemma’s silky golden coat shone brightly in the evening sunshine as she raced back, panting and out of breath. With bright eyes, pleading eyes, Gemma looked at Pam for the ball.

  “Oh all right then, there’s no hiding it from you, is there?” Pam said laughing, and she threw the small green tennis ball as far as she could, watching it bounce a couple of times before Gemma was able to pounce on it and bring it back home. Pam knew the routine just like Gemma did – and as Gemma returned back at her feet, again dropping the ball from her mouth like it was a prize, Pam took it and threw away, Gemma chasing off after it. This usually lasted about 10 throws, by which time Pam had usually had enough exertion for her older body. On the last ball return home, she clipped Gemma’s lead back on and walked the nearly exhausted dog back towards home, just a few streets away. The sun was gone now, and twilight was settling in nicely and it was cooling down. In another month or so the evenings would be heavy with the summer’s heat, lingering like a warm fog, clinging to your skin and keeping you from sleep. Pam didn’t dislike summer, but found the hot days and too hot nights hard to bear, keeping comfort from her. She turned up her road, the birds busy getting ready for bed in the trees above her head as they walked back, their singing so loud it was almost deafening at this hour. The thought of birds jostling for branch space above made Pam smile. She bent down and petted Gemma on her shoulder, the dog looking up at her with happiness twinkling in her eyes, love written all over her face.

  “Nearly there now, and I’ll get you a fresh bowl of cold water, how does that sound?” As she rose back up, Pam could see what looked to be a woman coming down her front path in the near distance, a younger woman, someone she didn’t recognize.

  “That’s odd, Gemma, I wonder who that is?” she said quietly, wondering if she’d better call out before the woman left. As they neared her gate she did so.

  “Excuse me, are you looking for me? Only that’s my house.” The woman turned, a little startled, Pam thought, but it was hard to tell in the twilight.

  “Oh, sorry. No, I was looking for Aunt Lilly’s house and I went in the wrong gate. Sorry to have bothered you.” Then she walked off, rather hastily Pam thought. Something didn’t feel quite right. Aunt Lilly? There were no ‘Lillys’ in this street, and as she watched the young woman get into her car, she thought that even more odd. Surely if she was going to her aunt’s, and had realized she was at the wrong house, she’d then go to the right one? It made no se
nse to get in her car. The small green car drove off down the road with the woman at the wheel and Pam stared after it for a moment. A light breeze blew and Pam shivered in her light cardigan.

  “Come on then, Gemma, let’s get you some water.” Pam couldn’t help wondering if she’d just come back in the nick of time.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Pam rose and let Gemma out into the back garden as usual, then flicked the kettle on for her first cup of English Breakfast of the day. She stood looking out of the kitchen window, at the riot of colour that filled her postage-stamp-sized lot. She didn’t mind that it was so small, it was just enough for her to keep up, and the colours made her happy. There was every variety of bedding plant you might find in your local garden centre, with no thought to colour grouping or co-ordination whatsoever. A space was found for it somewhere. It was chaos. The light sound of wind chimes outside on the porch tinkled in through the open door, and the early-morning sun was starting to warm the back of the house, like a warm blanket wrapping round on a cold day. She often sat outside on the porch, on the swing seat built for two, but Gemma was the only one that shared it with her now, Graeme having been gone for six years. They’d been a happy couple, together almost since school, childhood sweethearts but he had been tragically taken one day with a massive heart attack while he was out at work, one that he never stood a chance of surviving. That’s when she’d got Gemma. She missed Graeme dearly, but Gemma helped to fill the void he had left, in her house and in her heart.

  The click of the kettle switch pulled her out of her reverie and she poured the hot water onto the single tea bag. She gave it one stir with a spoon to set it on its way to brewing, something her mother and her mother’s mother had done, although they’d done it with loose tea back then. “Tea bags are the sweepings up off the tea floor” her mother used to say when bags first came out. But still, a single stir then leave it, that was the way to a good cup. Gemma padded back indoors, toenails clicking on the lino her own morning ritual complete though not as complex as Pam’s, and flopped on the floor with a giant sigh.

  “Too hot already, Gemma? And it’s not even fully summer yet. Perhaps we should look at getting your coat clipped a bit?” Gemma just looked up, confusion in her eyes, then slumped back down again.

  “I’m off to work in a wee while, so you’ll be on your own until lunchtime when I get back, okay?” Gemma knew this to be so, Pam told her the same thing each and every workday morning, and she grew to ignore it, as dogs do. Pam added milk to her cup, threw the tea bag in the compost bin under the sink and took her tea out onto the porch where she sat and surveyed her riotous garden. Large overly stuffed terracotta pots filled in for the lack of vacant flowerbed space, every corner of the garden was crammed with colour, and the hanging baskets off the porch roof framed the whole scene like a colourful frill on a postage stamp.

  “Shower in five minutes, Gemma, and tonight we should do some dead-heading, those geraniums are beginning to look messy. And we should really do something about that verbena before it gets out of hand, it’s gone like a triffid.” Pam talked to Gemma all the time, largely because she had no one else in the house to talk to, and she knew Gemma was listening and appreciated being included in important decisions like which plants needed dead heading first. So she carried on and didn’t care if anyone heard her and thought she was losing her marbles – let them try living on their own.

  The little carriage clock on the porch window ledge chimed 7.30am and said she needed to get a move on, so she tipped the dregs of her morning tea into a nearby garden pot and went indoors to get ready. At 8am on the dot she left her little house at the end of a quiet road, Gemma safe on the swing she’d herself not long ago left, and walked the couple of streets over to the school where she worked, like she did most days. In another few months she’d be retiring, but the thought of giving up her job altogether wasn’t a pleasant one, she’d have to do something with her time. Maybe some voluntary work or private tuition, she wondered. Had she been a little more alert that morning, she would have seen a little green car, a car that had been parked nearby just the previous night in the dusk, a young woman at the wheel, watching her leave.

  Chapter Four

  As Pam entered her front gate at lunchtime, she instantly knew something was wrong. There was no happy bark coming from the backyard, no Gemma vocally greeting her as usual.

  “That’s odd,” she said out loud to herself. “Gemma!” she called a little louder, “I’m home.” Nothing. Not a sound as she walked through the house to the backyard, only the gentle tick tock of the carriage clock in the porch. Pam tossed her bag down and went straight to the back door, expecting to see Gemma fast asleep in her bed on the porch. As she opened the door, her heart sank – the bed was empty, there was no sign of Gemma. Standing there for a moment, taking in what she was – or was not – seeing, she wondered if perhaps June next door had her, maybe something had happened and she’d taken her in? Leaving her house, she made her way down the back garden path to the little adjoining gate Graeme had once put in some years back, so the two women could get into each other’s gardens easily.

  “Gemma!” she called, expecting to see her in her friend’s yard, but again, no sound.

  “Hello Pam,” said June, coming to her own back door and walking down the little path towards her, drying her hands on her apron as she went. She wore a dress in a lavender print, and Pam would normally have commented how pretty it was. Today she had other things on her mind.

  “Hi June, have you got Gemma by any chance? She’s not home.”

  “No I don’t, sorry. That’s odd, that she’s not at home.”

  “Yes it is, and now I’m starting to worry, where can she be? She’s always here, never been one for getting out. I just thought maybe you had her, maybe something had happened.” Her voice was filled with worry and June felt sorry for her friend, putting her arm around her shoulders.

  “Listen, come on in, I’ll make some tea and we’ll make a list of all the possible places she could be.” She steered her friend back towards the house and indoors. Though June hadn’t seen anything, she herself couldn’t help wondering what could have possibly happened to such a loving and well-behaved dog. She wasn’t the type to get up to mischief.

  Thirty minutes later they had a list and Pam was feeling a little better, though still worried, and it was almost time to get back to work.

  “I’ll call on these while you go back to work, and the moment I find her I’ll let you know, okay?” June was a good sort, they’d been neighbours for the last 15 years, and as June knew Gemma well, Pam agreed to her plan, although she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate at work for the afternoon. But she had to return, and knew June would be true to her word.

  By 4pm when Pam got back home, there was no good news message from June and still no sign of her little dog. Pam was getting increasingly panicked. But what could she do apart from go out and search for her herself? She grabbed Gemma’s leash and set off for the park, calling Gemma’s name as she went, but there was simply no sign of her and no one had seen her. By 7pm Pam had to call it a night, she was exhausted both physically and emotionally, and realised the only thing left for it was to call the police. Her dog, she was sure, had been stolen.

  Chapter Five

  “Really? You can’t do anything?” Pam was trying to reason with the desk sergeant, who was just doing his job, but which was of no help in finding her beloved dog.

  “I’d like to say we can help you madam, but a lost dog simply isn’t a police matter. She’s probably managed to get out, gone off on an adventure and will be home before you get your cocoa,” he said smiling. While his eyes and smile were kind, it wasn’t helping Pam in the slightest.

  “So you won’t help me then?” Pam sounded dejected and she knew it but it was how she felt.

  “Look, all I can do is file a report and suggest you contact the pound, the RSPCA and other shelters and see if anyone has handed her in
. It happens all the time. And if she’s microchipped, any vet that comes across her will notify you directly. So fingers crossed eh, safe return by the morning.” His friendly smile was still missing what she actually needed – help in finding her best friend. She had no choice now but to go home, it was getting late and the mental fatigue was hitting her hard, as were as her poor feet.

  As she left the station she wondered what else she could possibly do. June had already rung the pound and animal shelters. By now Pam was sure Gemma hadn’t just nipped out of her own free will. Something or someone had happened in their quiet cul-de-sac during the morning, but she’d no clue as to what that was. She only hoped Gemma would come to no harm.

  Back home, Pam sat slumped at the little kitchen table, brushing out an imaginary crease in the cloth for something to do. She’d called everyone she knew to see if anyone had seen her, but she already knew the answer, nobody had seen a thing. It was like Gemma had simply vanished. The last thing she thought of giving a try was to post something on the local online community page, The Daisy Chain. Letting people know online meant more people would be aware that Gemma had gone missing and could look out for her, so she pulled the page up on her iPad and quickly scanned the last few posts. Nothing about anyone finding a Spaniel, but plenty about graffiti and petty theft. She left her own post:

  From @litlady – “Can you please keep your eyes open for my Gemma? Golden Springer Spaniel, missing from Sunnymead Road this morning. Out of character for her and I miss her terribly. Please share with your friends and help bring her home.”