THE FARM!

Chapter 12

"Hey arsehole – I want a word with you!"
Fitz, the shabby suited journalist was taking a very early morning stroll around the pool before the rest of the hotel awoke. He was speaking urgently into his mobile phone when he was jumped from behind, finding himself in the vice-like grip of an excruciatingly painful arm lock – even before he heard Gus's words of abuse.
"Hell's teeth! You'll break my fucking arm!" Fitz squealed in agony as his mobile dropped from his grasp, clattering onto the paving stones of the pool surround.
"Don't worry yourself about that. If I'd wanted to break your fucking arm, it would be broken by now. This is designed to apply maximum pain without doing any permanent damage. Effective don't you think?"
"Please, please just let me go and I'll explain everything," Fitz yelped.
"I'll tell you what. You tell me everything and I'll not bust your fucking arm. How's that for a deal?"
"It's not what it seems." Fitz pleaded breathlessly. "I had to get the story out – otherwise who would have taken me seriously – it's now front page news – the papers are demanding a full police investigation – my editor was on the phone just now. Special Branch are flying out an investigator as we speak – please let me go – you can speak to my editor yourself – he'll confirm everything."
And so in the more leisurely comfort of the hotel atrium and without his arm being twisted behind his back, Fitz hoped to redeem himself in Gus's eyes by explaining his rationale, which, whilst not entirely believable in terms of ulterior motive, did appear to Gus to have some pragmatic value in terms of mobilizing the powers that be.
Fitz worked for an editor of a well-known sensationalist rag and in a long and penetrating interview disclosed to Gus that the story was front-page news that morning.  A call to the editor confirmed this and also that contact had been made with Special Branch by way of tipping them off that a major story was about to break. Also, that it was a story involving a significant number of British tourists. A fact pretty much guaranteed to work the British public into a sanctimonious frenzy of indignation, when calamities of catastrophic proportions involving 'foreigners' leaves them cold.
When it was realized that the newspaper was demanding a full and immediate investigation of the on-going situation and highlighted the fact that many tourists could not be accounted for, and could therefore, be in grave danger, the alarm bells started ringing. An investigation was put in place in the form of a lone special branch investigator, plus assistant, being flown in by private charter in order to get to the bottom, of what the authorities expected to be, an exaggeration of the facts for which some reasonable explanation might be forthcoming.
Gus, although harbouring a seething hatred for Fitz, due mainly to his damaged pride, had to accept that his actions might very have been the best way for help to be mobilized at such speed, and therefore, the best way to secure the survival of the beleaguered family.
"So when do you think they are likely to arrive?" Gus asked, now willing to give Fitz the benefit of the doubt despite having been locked in a store cupboard for the night.
"Any time soon I should think," Fitz surmised, "and you do understand the locking in the cupboard and all that. I mean you were a loose canon and I know you never would have agreed to waiting until the story was printed. You would have suspected me of just trying to get a scoop."
"Well, don't try and tell me it never entered your head."
"Well if it did it was tempered by the practical aspect of mobilizing the British authorities without days of delay working through the red tape. This is for the best. You do see that now don't you?"
"My opinion in that regard will be withheld and be dependent upon the result."
It was a long morning of waiting for news as messages were received from the editor and each development was followed up with keen interest by Fitz and with trepidation by Gus. Then a message came in about noon to say that, chief investigating officer, Detective Inspector Williams, was due by mid-afternoon at The Imperial to talk with both Fitz and Gus.
After some hours of tense waiting a woman in her forties, dressed in that drab municipal business garb that serves for a uniform for those not required to wear uniform, entered the lobby. Speaking a few words to the hotel receptionist, she made her way over towards Fitz and Gus; followed by a faded and lifeless young man, dressed inappropriately in a city suit and carrying a large attaché case. 
'A little strong on the make-up', was a random thought that immediately entered Fitz's mind. Gus, on the other hand found her rather alluring and went into semi-flirtatious mode, not fully functioning due to the extreme stress of his situation.
After the pleasantries during which Gus fumbled around offering coffee and pastries, all of which were refused, he asked  if she had made any inquiries and if so, whether they had any information to share.
"Eh-hem, well you see, we don't have very much to go on – do we? We were hoping you and Mr Fitzwilliam could illuminate us. Seeing as how we've come all this way – at such short notice."
Gus, was rather taken aback at what appeared to him to be a line of questioning one might take with a suspect rather than a victim and went into attack mode. "As I understand it, you're here to investigate. Have you even been to The Farm yet?"
"We did – yes – of course – naturally. That was our first point of call on our way over here. When we approached there was no sign of any security..." D/Insp Williams stated authoritatively. "On the contrary, all was quiet. In fact I would go as far as to say, desolate. The hotel looked as though it hadn't been used for months. Certainly no indication of it's recent use as a holiday hotel."
Gus's face dropped. "Did you search the place?"
"I know my job Mr er..."
"Dexter, but please call me Gus."
"Well Mr Dexter, like I say, I know my job. I've had a cursory look around to assess the eh... general situation. We found a surveyor plus somebody who claimed to be a project manager in the back office. What were their names Jeremy?" She asked, turning towards the pasty-faced young man with the receding chin.
Jeremy, fumbled awkwardly with his attaché case, as if being asked anything by his superior came as a profound shock, giving rise to a nervous incapacity. He eventually pulled out a well-thumbed notebook. "Rabinovich, the surveyor Ma'am and Petrov the project manager."
"Russians," Gus muttered. "And...?"
"Er, well – it would seem," D/Insp Williams continued, "that the place was sold off at auction early in the season and ear-marked you see... for renovation over the 'dead' winter months. It was scheduled to re-open ready for the Spring season next year. And Russian contractors are not unusual in these parts."
"So, what are you saying exactly?" Gus demanded, getting redder in the face and clearly more frustrated and angry.
"Well, it was apparently contracted out to a private company for conferencing, just for a few months, they paid up front and vacated early. The contractors have been drafted in to start the renovation, hence the Surveyor. We could find nothing amiss with the paperwork and the search of the premises revealed nothing... except er..."
"Except what?" Gus urgently inquired.
"Er, well – except some indication of occupation of the pool side pump room."
"Meaning what exactly?"
"Well, as far as we could determine just kids or teenagers using the space as a hideout of some kind. We found food supplies and rudimentary bedding, but not a lot to go on."
"So what happens now?" Gus replied clearly perplexed and concerned.
"We will of course check out the airlines and try and track any missing persons as well as checking out the conference company that leased the hotel. But all that's out of our remit I'm afraid and will take some time with the authorities back home."
"So you're telling me you're not going to do anything?"
"Ah well, I'll be taking full statements from you both of course and if you're sure your grandson and friends have gone missing, I can file a missing persons report, but that will have to be referred back to the local police authority for them to investigate. At this initial stage at least."
"Of course I'm sure they're bloody missing. They were at that damned hotel. I can vouch for that. Along with hundreds of others."
"Yes, er well, whilst I fully understand your concern, you can't say for certain how long they've been missing. We'll try and piece things together, of course, but there's little more we can do on the ground at the moment you see.  There's just no evidence of a crime having been committed or any irregularity in terms of the so called Hotel itself. Of course, we'll have to work closely with the local authorities in order to investigate further. We've already gone out on a limb going this far; mainly thanks to some pretty irresponsible reporting, if I way say so," at which she turned a steely eye towards Fitz. "The local authorities are understandably hypersensitive about any repercussions. Anything like this could wreck their tourist industry, which is of course of primary concern as far as they are concerned. That is why, Mr Fitzwilliam, these issues have to be handled sensitively. You have to work with the locals if you're going to get anything done in these parts. I will be submitting a formal complaint to your editor on my return."
Fitz was looking visibly shaken. He saw his big scoop falling apart at the seams if no more evidence could be procured forthwith. This would mean untold repercussions for himself and for the newspaper. In short he could see his career coming to an abrupt and ignominious end.
Gus looked incredulous as he thought back to The Farm as he had left it just a couple of days before. How could it be that the Hotel was now derelict and disused and what on earth had happened to Pip and the others in that time.
'No point in wasting more time with these idiots,' he thought. Gus knew that if he ever expected to see his grandson again, then he would have to take matters into his own hands. Standing up, he glared at both Fitz and D/Insp Williams and exited the Hotel to do he knew not what. What he did know, however, was that something had to be done and that he was the man to do it.