by Keith Dixon
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
INSPECTOR HOWARD oozed his usual cultured charm.
‘So were they after you or the girl?’ he said.
We were standing in a corridor in the Countess of Chester Hospital, three miles north of the city centre. Somewhere along the reporting line, Howard had found out what had happened. Within thirty minutes he came striding through the door, his face a thunderous mix of anger, confusion and, surprisingly, concern.
‘I don’t know who they wanted,’ I said. ‘It’s my car they hit, but they probably knew she was in it with me. Either I’m the bonus or she is.’
‘What did you see of the car? Get a make or any numbers?’
‘Not really. Big and powerful. I think it was a BMW like the one I saw at the Brand’s house. Overtook me as though I were driving a dodgem and brushed me aside. I’ll be surprised if it’s even got a mark on it. It was a dark or middling colour but hard to tell. He’d put something on his license plate—it was illegible.’
‘One person or two?’
‘The windows were tinted.’
Howard stared at me but I wasn’t in his vision. We were both so distracted we were barely communicating. He could see this case spiralling out of control while I was worried about Laura. Her left arm had been suspiciously limp as they’d lifted her on to the stretcher.
‘Any witnesses come forward?’ I asked. ‘Someone must have seen it.’
‘We’re asking but no luck so far. We’d have heard by now if anyone behind you saw it. People driving in the opposite direction would have been past too quickly to see what happened.’
‘You’ve given it some thought, then.’
‘This sounds like attempted murder. That’s good enough for us to put some effort in.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s something you should know.’
‘What?’
He took me by the arm and led me to a row of chairs, where we sat.
‘A note was delivered to our Incident Room earlier today.’
I felt my chest begin to thump more quickly. ‘What did it say?’
‘I can’t reveal all the contents. Let’s just say it was an ultimatum. We stop looking for Mrs Brand or he kills her.’
‘Was there a deadline?’
‘He wants us to say something this weekend. Saturday. We’re Wednesday now. That gives us effectively two and a bit days.’
I stared at him. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘We’ve got to play it very carefully.’
I stood up so quickly my chair fell over. ‘For God’s sake!’
‘Keep your voice down.’
‘You’ve seen what he can do. Put more men on it. Broaden your search pattern.’
‘We’re not sure the note came from him.’
‘You wouldn’t be telling me unless you were sure. What did he do—include a finger? An ear?’
He was silent. I knew I was close to the truth. The kidnapper would have had to include some conclusive evidence for his words to have been taken seriously.
‘So we’ve got two days to try and find this murdering bastard,’ I said.
‘What do you mean by “we”?’
‘Just try and keep me out of it, Howard.’
He stood up now. ‘I don’t think you understand your situation,’ he said, his eyes boring into mine. ‘Anything you do could make it worse for Mrs Brand. What we do is none of your business. But what you do is definitely ours. So I’m telling you once again to keep out of it.’
‘Too late,’ I said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The killer’s already contacted Laura. Told us to back off.’
Howard shook his head. ‘And you didn’t, did you? I told you at the beginning you’d get in the way. And I wasn’t wrong. Everywhere I look your size tens have been there first, muddying the ground and putting people in danger.’
‘I have to do what I can.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m sure Miss Marshall down there in the Emergency Ward is just full of gratitude for your sterling efforts so far.’
It was a low blow. But he wasn’t wrong. Now my revenge fantasy had even more to feed on.
