One Foggy Night

by Andrew Rossiter
When an anxious mother calls the Police to report that her teenage son has not come home, the
policemen find themselves looking at more than just a couple of missing teenagers .....

PART 1
“This is a rule: he must be back home by eleven thirty,” said the voice on the phone. “I’m so worried. It’s
the first time he’s been out with the car at night .”
“And how old is your son ?” asked Sergeant Parker.
“Seventeen, officer. He only passed his driving test a week ago.
And Melanie is only 15 .”
“Well Mrs. Hoskins, I can only say that I haven’t had any reports
of incidents involving a blue Fiesta; but I’ll put out a message. Just
make sure you call us back immediately if he comes home. We
can’t afford to waste police time, can we ?”
“No, officer, of course not. But you’ll let us know at once if you
find them, OK ?”
“Yes Ma’am, we will.”
Parker looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after
two. “Constable Shepton!”
“Sir ?”
“Put out a message to all cars. Look out for a dark blue
Fiesta, registration number J47 HPK. The driver is a young boy of
17 called Paul Hoskins - just passed his test. His mum expected him home before midnight. He
hasn’t shown up yet .”
“Any idea where he is ?”
“He went out for the evening with his girlfriend. She’s not home either .”
“What’s the problem then, Sergeant?” asked Shepton. “Probably out clubbing
“Yes, I know. But ‘is mum says he promised to be back home by midnight. “
“Yes, but... .”
“He looks as if he’s a sensible teenager who doesn’t break rules..... And the girl is only 15 .”

“Blue Fiesta!” said Constable Wells. “Easier with a yellow Ferrari! And check the weather! ”
A heavy sea fog was rolling in off the Channel, bringing visibility down to less than thirty yards.
Constable Bradstock got back into the car. “Well there isn’t anything going on round here. Place
is deserted.”
At that moment, two lights appeared out of the mist, and drove past at high speed. “Bloody idiot,” said
Wells. “Shall we go after him ?”
“What? In this fog? What’s the point? Let’s just get on with the round.”
Bradstock started the engine, and the patrol car moved slowly forward into the mist.
“Brad! That was an Fiesta, wasn’t it?”, asked Wells, all of a sudden.
“Where ?”
“The car that just went by .”
“Maybe. I hardly saw it .”
“What colour was it ?”
“Don’t ask me! I can’t tell colours under orange streetlamps, can you? Let alone in this fog .”
“Let’s follow it.. .”
“It could be anywhere by now” But Wells was already talking into the radio.
“Car PB to base. Suspicious vehicle speeding west along Esplanade, near east Pavillion. It might be the
missing Fiesta. We’re following it, but slowly due to fog. Over.”
The mist was patchy; then suddenly, as they drove in front of the Imperial Hotel, it lifted, and a long line of
lights stretched out ahead of them, picking out the gentle curve of the Esplanade round as far as
the harbour. There was no traffic, just cars standing empty at the roadside. Apart from the streetlamps, the
only other lights to be seen were in the distance at the harbourside, where a group of cars seemed to be
parked at the water’s edge.
Bradstock switched on the blue flashing light, and Wells accelerated. As they approached the group of
cars, two of them drove off up a street towards the town centre. The third stayed where it was. “It’s a Fiesta,”
said Bradstock. “Dark blue. Perhaps it’s the one we’re looking out for..... .”
“Pull up behind it,” said Wells. Although its headlights were on, the stationary vehicle looked empty. Brad
jumped out.
A moment later, he was back. “You should call up the station. The engine’s running, but no one in it. Just
this on the back seat.” He held up a a lot of £50 notes.
“Somebody left a couple of banknotes behind. Must be in a hurry!”.
"iIt doesn’t sound like a 17-year old kid, does it?” said Wells.
“You never know these days, do you?” Brad replied.

Part 2
Two policemen are looking for a couple of missing teenagers; they have just found the teens' car, but
not the kids. Instead, they found a lot of money in the car. What can be happening ?
"This is a missing persons call." Constable
Shepton looked at the description that Mrs. Hoskins
had just given, then spoke into the microphone
again.
"The lad's 17, darkish hair, five foot nine and
quite thin. He's wearing a dark green bomber
jacket. Name Paul Hoskins. The girl's called
Melanie Hoardley, age 15, looks older. Blonde
shoulder-length hair; wearing jeans and a sort of
red anorak. Check all clubs and sea front. Stop
any suspicious vehicle within 10 miles."
Four police cars had come together beside the
harbour.
"You don't think they jumped in, do
you, copper?" asked one of the on-lookers, who
had appeared from nowhere even though it was almost 3 a.m.
"I really don't know," said the Inspector. "Now would you please move back. There's nothing to see. This is
just a routine investigation."
"Car PB," said the voice on the radio. "Please check out the eastern Esplanade, as far as the cliffs."
"Let's go," said Wells.

The mist had come in again, just enough to hide the tops of the buildings on the landward side of the
Esplanade; but as the buildings got smaller, the fog seemed to thicken. By the time the patrol car reached the
end of the Esplanade, at the foot of the cliff, visibility was down to little more than ten yards.
"I don't know how we're meant to check anything in this," said Bradstock.
"Can't see anything, anyway," Wells replied. He stopped the car, and the two policemen got out.
They could hear the sound of the waves slopping against the foot of the sea wall, fifteen feet below them.
Bradstock leaned over. In the darkness, the sea looked black, cold and very uninviting. "High tide," he
remarked.
"Yeah," said Wells. "Going out now. Let's walk along as far as the rocks. There'll be enough sand by now."
They locked the car, and took two powerful torches. Bradstock switched on his walkie-talkie. At the end of
the Esplanade, narrow concrete steps led down onto the sand, above the high water mark.
Where it has been washed by the waves, the sand was hard and smooth; but the going was not always
easy and from time to time the two policemen had to scramble onto the rocks to avoid getting their feet wet.
 "What's the point of looking along here?" asked Wells, suddenly stopping. "We saw them driving back to
the middle of town. They won't have come back this way again, will they?"
"What if someone else had nicked their car?"
"They'd have walked to a phone box, wouldn't they?"
The men walked on, the sound of the gently breaking waves echoing off the cliffs that they could feel but
not see rising steeply up beside them.
By day, the cliffs would have been alive with the sound of seagulls; by night, there was no noise to mix with
the breaking waves.
Then Brad froze.
"What's that?"
From somewhere at the foot of the cliffs, a voice was calling. Scrambling up the stones, towards the spot
the sound seemed to be coming from, Wells almost fell over two bodies lying there. "Quick, a knife," he said.
"Undo them!"
"Oh thank God," said the girl.
"Are you Melanie?" asked Brad.
"Yeah; thank God you came."
"What happened?"
"Smugglers," said the youth, as Wells cut the cloth from round his mouth. "We were just walking along
when we saw this fishing boat coming in through the mist, so we went over to watch; then all these men got
off it, without saying a word. I think they must have been immigrants or something; they had dark skin. Then
two other guys, white guys, just jumped on us and tied us up. They took my wallet and my Mum's car keys."
"O.K, " said Wells. "I reckon we know the rest already. You'd better come along with us."
And he turned on his walkie-talkie. "PB to base. We have the two youngsters...."