by OMJ Ryan
Bovalino wasn’t listening. He was focused on stopping the masked man from making his escape. He took a tentative step out onto the narrow beam, and Jones shouted again.
‘Jesus, Bov! Wait for the tactical team. They’re on their way.’
Ahead of him, the masked man stood motionless, watching Bovalino as he edged closer, step by step.
‘Tell me where the girl is,’ said Bovalino.
The masked man laughed. ‘Not today, mate. Not today.’ He leapt from the beam and grabbed the metal frame of the skylight with both hands.
Bovalino rushed forwards and tried to grab his leg, but lost his footing. Time seemed to stand still as his large body fell forwards. His arms windmilled, and he clutched at air in an attempt to save himself.
He could hear Jones’s screams as he hurtled towards the ground.
A second later, he hit the concrete with a sickening thud and the world went black.
33
By the time Phillips arrived on scene, paramedics were working to stabilise Bovalino in the back of an ambulance. Jones stood to the rear of the vehicle, staring blankly in through the open doors. Phillips placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he turned towards her. His face was ashen, his eyes fighting away tears.
‘How is he?’ asked Phillips.
Jones shook his head. ‘Not good, Guv. He fell almost thirty feet onto concrete. His body’s all smashed up, and he’s unconscious.’
Phillips stepped forwards and took in the scene. For once, Bovalino looked small and frail, laid out on the gurney with a neck brace in place. Splints wrapped both legs, and several drips and tubes came out of his arms. Two paramedics worked on him methodically.
The one nearest to Phillips offered a faint smile. ‘He’s in good hands. We’re doing everything we can for him.’
Phillips flashed a weak smile in return, then turned back to Jones. ‘Have you let Izzie know?’
‘Yes. I called her just now.’
‘How was she?’
Jones swallowed hard. ‘Devastated. They’ve been together since they were teenagers. You know how much she loves him.’
Tears welled in Phillips’s eyes as she imagined what Bovalino’s wife must be going through. It reminded her why she had remained resolutely single for so long. The job they did was dangerous, and having someone at home who worried about you was a big responsibility to carry every day.
‘She’s heading to the hospital as we speak,’ added Jones.
Phillips took a deep breath and gestured for Jones to follow her away from the ambulance.
Out of sight and earshot of anyone, she drew him into tight hug. ‘He’s gonna be ok, you know,’ she said into his ear. ‘Bov’s a fighter,’
After a long moment, Jones pulled away. ‘It’s my fault. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. I should have ordered him down.’
‘And do you think he would’ve listened to that? Bov, really?’
Jones’s shoulders sagged and he shook his head.
‘Exactly. He was doing what he thought was best for Hollie,’ said Phillips.
Jones covered his face with his hands for a moment before rubbing his eyes and exhaling loudly. ‘Fuck. I could do with a cigarette right now.’
Phillips offered him a warm smile, knowing how hard he had fought to give up the habit, a little over a year earlier. ‘Are you feeling up to showing me inside, or would you prefer to stay here with Bov?’
Jones’s nostrils flared and his jaw tensed for a moment. His eyes went steely. ‘No. I want to catch these bastards. There’s nothing I can do for him just now. And this is now personal. They messed with the wrong team today, Guv.’
‘Good. In that case, let’s get inside and take a look.’
Equipped with heavy-duty flashlights, and wearing latex gloves, Phillips and Jones moved slowly through the east side of the building, where Bovalino had battled his attacker.
A few metres in, Phillips spotted a small plastic block attached to the wall. She stopped and trained her flashlight on it. ‘Jonesy. Look at this.’
Jones moved next to her and waved his hand in front of it, but nothing happened. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘No idea.’ Phillips pulled out her phone and took a picture of the block. ‘Let’s see if Entwistle can figure it out,’ she added, as she emailed it through to him.
They continued down the long corridor. It wasn’t long before they found a room containing oil drums. They took their time checking for any clues that Hollie had been held there, which wasn’t easy with just the flashlights for illumination. Once the SOCO team arrived and set up their gear, the place would be lit up like a Christmas tree, but for now, they inspected the room one metre at a time.
Phillips spotted an oily footprint next to one of the drums. She stopped for a moment and attempted to gather her bearings.
‘From where I’m stood now, where is the door where we came into the building?’ she asked.
Jones turned to face her, then looked left and right. ‘That way,’ he said eventually.
Phillips followed his pointed finger and shifted her body so she was standing facing the same direction. She said nothing for a long moment, as she worked out where she was positioned in relation to the structure of the overall building.
‘What you thinking, Guv?’ said Jones.
‘This is the last door on the corridor. Right?’
‘I think so.’
‘And there’s no more doors?’
‘Not that I know of,’ said Jones.
‘But, if you think about the size of this building and where we’re stood, we’re only about halfway down its length. Right?’
‘Which means?’
‘Which means, Jonesy, that either there were other doors that have since been bricked up…’
‘Or?’
‘Or this room is the entrance to the rest of the building.’
‘Do you mean, like a false wall?’
‘Exactly,’ said Phillips, and turned to face the wall behind her. ‘Exactly like a false wall.’ She moved forwards and placed her hands on the exposed brickwork. ‘Jesus, Jonesy. This isn’t brick, it’s bloody plasterboard covered in wallpaper. Come and feel.’
Jones followed suit, and ran his hands over the surface of the wall. ‘It is too. Jesus. From a distance it looked just like brickwork.’
Phillips banged her fist on the wall, which sounded hollow. ‘Flash that light over here, will you.’
As Jones trained his flashlight on the false wall, Phillips began to run her fingers across the surface until she found what she was looking for – a small indent that housed a semi-circular handle. She pulled it out and turned it anti-clockwise, which produced a satisfying click. A second later, she pushed open the hidden door, and stepped into a brightly lit space, Jones tucked in behind her.
She was shocked by what she saw. The place was kitted out like a military bunker; a number of rooms ran off a central corridor, there was a small mess hall, and a bunk room with four camp beds and a chemical toilet.
‘I think it’s fair to say that whoever was here has a military background, don’t you?’ said Phillips.
Jones nodded. ‘Certainly looks that way.’
Phillips pressed on, and they walked farther into the building. They found another room, accessed by a heavy-duty metal door that had been left ajar. Phillips pushed it open but didn’t enter the room. Inside stood another camp bed, complete with a sleeping bag and pillow.
Phillips stepped inside and found a chemical toilet positioned behind the door. In the middle of the room was a small table with a plate of uneaten food – some form of salad – and cutlery. Next to the bed stood a raft of books written for teenagers, and music magazines piled high. Phillips knelt and inspected the pillow, on which lay multiple strands of blonde hair.
‘What colour was Hollie’s hair?’ she asked.
‘Blonde, Guv,’ said Jones.
Phillips nodded. ‘It appears that she was here, then.’
>
‘Let’s just hope she’s still alive,’ said Jones.
At that moment, Phillips’s phone began to vibrate. She pulled it from her pocket. The incoming call was from Entwistle. She switched it on to speaker. ‘What you got for us?’
‘It looks like some kind of motion sensor, Guv.’
‘Which explains how they knew we were here,’ said Jones.
‘Any idea of its origins?’
‘Sadly, no. I couldn’t find the exact model you sent me, but it’s very similar to a bunch you can get online from any one of a hundred retailers.’
‘So no use in helping us track the gang?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
Just then, Phillips’s phone began to beep, which indicated another call coming in, this time from Fox. ‘Ok, thanks. I’d better go.’ She switched calls, took it off speaker, then placed the phone against her ear. ‘Chief Superintendent Fox?’
‘When exactly were you going to tell me that one of my officers had been seriously injured?’
‘I’m on scene now, Ma’am. I was just about to call you.’
‘Don’t bullshit me, Phillips.’
‘I promise you, Ma’am, I’m not. I was about to call—’
‘I want you and Saxby in my office within the hour.’
‘But Ma’am, surely finding Hollie is my priority right now,’ said Phillips.
‘I don’t think you heard me, Chief Inspector. I want you and Saxby in my office! No excuses, and no more bullshit. Understood?’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
Fox ended the call without saying goodbye, and Phillips let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Well, Jonesy, it looks like a bollocking from Fox is actually my priority.’
Jones shook his head.
‘You may as well head to the hospital. I’ll go and take one for the team.’
34
Ms Blair ushered Phillips through the door and into the chief superintendent’s office, where Fox was already in discussion with Saxby.
Fox’s eyes fell on Phillips. ‘Chief Inspector. Take a seat.’
As she sat, Saxby nodded, but said nothing.
‘Any news on Bovalino?’ asked Fox.
‘Nothing at this stage, Ma’am. Jones was following the ambulance to the hospital when I left. It took them over an hour to stabilise him at the scene.’
‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘No, Ma’am, I’m afraid it doesn’t. He’s in a very serious condition.’
‘Tell me what happened,’ said Fox.
Phillips relayed the events of the day, from Entwistle’s visit with Professor Levin to Jones and Bovalino’s search of the old workhouse in Gorton. How they had split up as they searched the two sides of the building, and then how Bovalino had clashed with one of the kidnappers and chased him into the rafters of the building, resulting in his accident.
‘So, your men let our best chance of catching the kidnappers slip away, then?’ said Saxby, when Phillips had finished.
As thoughts of Bov and his wife, Izzie, flashed through her mind, Phillips was possessed with an urge to rip his Saxby’s head off and feed it to him. It took all her strength to maintain a civil tone when she answered. ‘And what would you have done differently, then?’
‘Well. If this was my investigation, I can guarantee I’d be further forward in the search for the girl by now—’
‘Based on what evidence, exactly?’ said Phillips.
‘Let’s just call it a hunch,’ replied Saxby. ‘And I’d have sent a fully armed tactical team into the building. Not just a couple of bobbies with flashlights for protection.’
‘They’re seasoned detectives, and they went into the building based on the danger to life. Jones did call in the TFU, but by the time they arrived, the kidnappers had escaped.’
‘Yes. But only because your heavy-handed amateurs bundled in and made so much noise. Have they ever heard of a covert operation, Chief Inspector?’
Phillips was starting to lose her temper now. ‘Well, if you’d bothered to check out the scene, as opposed to just kissing Sir Richard’s arse—’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Saxby, clearly affronted.
Phillips ignored him and continued, ‘—then you’d have known that the gang had filled the place with motion detectors. They knew we were coming the moment Jones and Bovalino entered the building.’
Fox watched on, but had yet to enter the fray. She was no doubt trying to decide which horse to back.
‘The fact of the matter remains, DCI Phillips,’ said Saxby, ‘that in the last week, your team has failed to create a single tangible lead as to Hollie’s whereabouts.’
‘Are you for real? Thanks to the tenacity and skill of my team, we found the kidnappers hideout. And from what we can ascertain, Hollie is still alive.’
‘As long as your bungled raid hasn’t panicked them into cutting their losses and killing her,’ said Saxby.
‘These guys don’t panic,’ said Phillips, her tone assured. ‘They took everything they needed when they left. It was clear they had a well-drilled plan for escape. The guy who attacked Bov knew exactly how to get out of that building through the roof. It wasn’t an accident that the skylight was missing. He used a classic military tactic – drawing the enemy away from his team, enabling them to escape. With your military background, I would have thought you’d have recognised that.’
Before Saxby could reply, Fox finally stepped in. ‘So you’re sure they’re military?’
‘Almost certain, Ma’am. I’m no expert, but everything points to them being a well drilled, well trained team. And if that is the case, there’s a good chance they served together – most likely in active combat.’
‘Sounds like more assumptions to me,’ said Saxby.
Fox continued. ‘So what about the ex-military leads you explored? Any further developments on those?’
‘Well, Ma’am,’ said Phillips, ‘Robbins was working and very visible at the club on the night Hollie was taken, so it looks like he’s out, Cartwright’s dead, Baker has CCTV footage that proves he was at work when she was snatched, and Holmes and Matthews are each other’s alibis – along with another dozen or so of their colleagues at Hawkins’s factory. Plus they have CCTV to vouch for their whereabouts as well.’
‘So. No leads there, either?’ sneered Saxby.
Phillips had heard enough. ‘So what about you? You’re the expert. What have you come up with?’
Saxby bristled. ‘Like I said many times before, I’m here in an advisory role, at the request of Sir Richard and the Home Office. I’m not here to be a foot soldier.’
‘Well, why don’t you do that?’ snarled Phillips. ‘Advise me. You’ve been here a week, and so far all I’ve seen you do is fawn over Sir Richard or sit up here on the fifth floor, drinking tea.’
Saxby opened his mouth to speak, but Fox cut him off. ‘DCI Saxby. Would you mind leaving us for a moment?’
Saxby turned to face Fox. ‘May I ask why, Ma’am?’
‘No, you may not,’ said Fox, her tone flat.
Saxby pursed his lips, and fixed Phillips with a cold stare. ‘As you wish, Ma’am.’ He got up and left the room.
When the door had closed behind him, Fox turned her attention to Phillips. ‘As much as you dislike him, what Saxby says is correct. Jones and Bovalino didn’t follow protocols—’
‘I know, Ma’am, but—’
‘They didn’t follow protocols, they took too many risks, and because of that, the girl is in even graver danger – and an officer is seriously injured.’
‘Ma’am, I understand what you’re saying, but—’
‘That’s just it, Phillips. I don’t think you do. As Saxby rightly says, it’s been over a week since the girl was snatched, and so far the MCU is no further forward. If anything, by losing one of the team, we’ve gone backwards. Sir Richard is bitching and moaning to everyone in Whitehall. The chief constable is getting it in the neck – which means yours truly here is also copping a load of fl
ack. If the girl dies, this will be a very public scandal, and that’s not something I want attached to my department. So, with that in mind, I’ve made a decision…’
Phillips’s pulse quickened, in anticipation of what was to come.
‘…if – as you suggest – your failed attempt today hasn’t panicked them, then tomorrow we can expect the kidnappers to send Sir Richard details of the money drop.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
‘With that in mind, I’ve decided that DCI Saxby will take control of the ransom drop, and he will decide how we proceed tactically.’
Phillips was aghast. ‘You can’t do that. The man’s inept.’
‘I can, and I will. If this thing goes south, then it can take the Met down with it. Not MCU.’
‘With respect, Ma’am, if it does go south, the girl could end up dead.’
‘If that happens – if – then it’ll be Saxby’s neck on the line. Not mine – and not yours.’
Phillips couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Please, Ma’am. Let me handle the drop. I can bring Saxby into the team. But letting him run the op…that’s madness.’
Fox fixed Phillips with her black, cold eyes. ‘Are you suggesting I’ve lost my mind?’
‘No Ma’am, of course not.’
‘Good. In that case, I’ve made my decision. Saxby is in charge.’
Phillips swallowed her hatred for Fox deep into her belly. How could she risk Hollie’s life just to save her own reputation?
‘So, unless there’s anything else…?’ said Fox.
‘No, Ma’am.’
‘That’s settled then. Dismissed.’
35
After her meeting with Fox, Phillips was tempted to head home and drink herself numb. It had been a long time since she had done that, but today she felt very thirsty indeed. As she approached her car, she came to her senses. The only place she should be was at the hospital. In the car, she pulled up Jones’s number on screen and called him handsfree as she set off in the direction of the MRI.
It took a number of failed attempts, but she finally managed to get through.
