“Now who’s getting spoilt by the fancy stuff.”
“Yeah yeah, haven’t you got work to do, Huxley?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” he chuckled.
I’d just gotten stuck into writing up our talk with Lawrence when Stephen elbowed me in the side.
“What?” I snapped.
“Woah, don’t take my head off,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Sorry,” I sighed. “What’s up?”
He pointed to my phone. “Your phone buzzed, didn’t you hear it?”
I shook my head, picking it up and hoping it was what we were both hoping for. I had a new text message and hurriedly clicked on it.
Who is this? Ellie Wooding had typed, or someone on her phone had, anyway.
I showed it to Stephen, and he shrugged. “Guess she wants to check. That, or she changed her phone number.”
I typed out Lawrence’s name and sent it, staring at my phone hopefully. It took several minutes, but my phone finally buzzed again.
“Yes!” I punched the air and shared a grin with Stephen, who looked as pleased as I was when he saw the message.
“An address to meet her at,” he said, “hell yeah, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“It’ll be a set-up, obviously,” I said, thinking aloud, “but hopefully they won’t be expecting us to kick back this time.”
I quickly typed the address into Google Maps and brought it up. “This is a street on the outskirts of York,” I said.
“Still pretty central,” Stephen said, leaning over to look. “Not like the botched ransom hand-over, or the trap at the farmhouse. So maybe she does think it’s Lawrence.”
I crossed my fingers. “God, I hope so.”
We took the news to Gaskell, who looked pleasantly surprised. “We’ll get you a team to go with you-”
“I think less would be more, in this case, sir,” I said. “We need to be subtle. They could bolt if anything seems off.”
Gaskell looked at me. “You think we need to bring the kid in as bait?”
I pulled back, startled. “No,” I said, perhaps more harshly than I ought to have, but the idea was abhorrent. “No, they could have guns, and we’re not putting a civilian teenager in the middle of that. Sir,” I added belatedly.
Gaskell gave me a serious nod. “Alright, then. So we keep the team out of sight till the last minute.”
“That sounds sensible, sir. We’ll have to scope out the area, but it’s fairly built up, so there should be plenty of places we can keep out of sight until they show up.”
“Good,” Gaskell said. “Nice job, the pair of you. Get together a full plan, and I’ll get the people together. When is the date set for?”
“Tonight,” I said apologetically. “Six o’clock.”
Gaskell pressed his lips together and cursed under his breath. “Not ideal,” he said, “But we’ll make it work.”
He waved us out of his office, already picking up the phone, and we left him to it. Stephen slung an arm over my shoulders as we walked back to our computers, giving me a rough sideways hug before he released me, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“We haven’t got her yet,” I warned him. His optimism was infectious, but this felt like counting your eggs before they hatched and I didn’t want to have to ride the emotional toll of another big let-down.
He rolled his eyes. “I know that, Mitch. But this is a good step, right?”
“Yes, it’s a good step,” I said, “but it’s just that; a step. Not the-”
He gave me a light shove. “Shut up with your negativity. It’ll work out. I have a feeling.”
I snorted a laugh. “Oh if you have a feeling,” I taunted, “I’ll stop worrying then, aye?”
He gave me a fond grin as he sat down at his desk, and I followed suit. “Oh, ye of little faith. You know what will actually stop your incessant worrying?”
“No?” I said, my eyebrow lifted.
“Working,” he said. “I swear, the only thing that calms you down is running through every possible scenario like some kind of calculator.”
“Didn’t help with the raid,” I muttered. Stephen hit me in the shoulder, none too gently this time. “Ow!” I protested.
“That wasn’t your fault, wasn’t anybody’s. We chose to trust Wooding, and she let us down. Now we’re smarter. It’ll be fine.”
I sighed, giving him an exasperated look. “Arguing with you is exhausting,” I complained. “I give in. You’re right. Everything will go perfectly to plan.”
He smiled. “I knew I’d wear you down.”
We got back to work after that, since Stephen was right about one thing; working every angle was the only way for me to feel more confident about the likelihood of this somewhat rushed plan working out like we wanted it to. For now, that was all I could control, and so I’d give it my best shot. Then I’d have to do like Stephen did and hope for the best.
The day seemed to both rush by and crawl at the same time, with Stephen and I scrambling to get everything under control before we headed out this evening.
As it was getting towards five, Stephen pointedly tapped the face of his watch.
“I know, I know,” I muttered. I was staring at the maps on my computer, trying to visualise exactly how things would play out.
“Darren,” Stephen said, “we need to get everyone together and go.”
I exhaled heavily, taking one final look before I shut down the computer. I had the map on a print-out, and on my phone too, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t study it again on the drive over, but it wasn’t that which made me reluctant to leave the station. Leaving showed that we were out of time, and the preparations we’d already done would have to be enough.
“It’ll be alright,” Stephen said as I gathered my things and stood up. We headed for Gaskell’s office to let him know it was time to move out.
“How do you know?” I said tiredly.
Stephen knocked his broad shoulder against mine. “Because you helped plan it, and I have faith. Come on, don’t doubt yourself now, okay?”
I forced a tight smile. “It’s not me, I doubt,” I teased, “it’s the staff I have to work with round here.”
Stephen grinned, looking more pleased than offended. “We’ll knock this out of the court,” he said, before knocking on Gaskell’s door.
He looked up when we came inside and gave us a nod. He’d put out a call for all the Leeds officers involved in the operation to congregate in the car park outside, so we could drive over together. With Stephen and I, there would be seven of us. We would be the only ones without weapons and were supposed to hang back until they had deemed the situation safe.
Riding over to the location that Wooding had specified, the van was deathly quiet just as it had been on the night of the raid. I took a deep breath and exhaled it out again. Stephen glanced sideways at me, but I didn’t meet his eyes. I badly needed this to work out. We needed a member of the gang to show us to Lydia, because who knew how much longer the little girl had, especially after the raids we’d done on the farmhouse. The kidnappers knew that we were on their heels, and what was to stop them ditching Lydia and making a run for it?
I shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking of.
A hundred doubts ran through my head as we drew up fairly near to the area we were supposed to meet at. There were a handful of people around, in the low, early evening light, and we stayed inside the van as we waited for six o’clock to get closer. It wasn’t usual to see armed police around here, or anywhere in England, and I knew that alarmed pedestrians could give away our presence if we left the van too early.
“Darren,” Stephen said, when it was ten to six. I silently shook my head at him. The kidnappers might be late, and we didn’t want to make our move too soon.
“Darren,” he said again, when there were only minutes to go. I shot him an irritated look.
“I know,” I said flatly, forcing myself to seem calm even though my heart was hammering. I looked at my watch ag
ain, synced to Stephen’s and every other officer here.
I stood up, making every eye here turn to me. Gaskell and a Leeds officer sat in the front. This was primarily my and Stephen’s operation, though, and they’d follow my lead.
“I’m going out. Only come out on my signal, understood?” I said, looking pointedly at Stephen as I did so. I didn’t want him out there in danger when he didn’t have to be.
“I’m coming,” he said.
“No, you’re not.” I thought of his kids and his wife and couldn’t picture having to be the one to tell them that Stephen had gotten shot.
But he ignored me, standing up. “Are you going to order me?” he said, quietly. “Because I’m your partner, and I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
My jaw clenched. Despite my fear for him, I was touched that he would insist on being there. I couldn’t make myself order him to stay here, either, because it would’ve driven an irreparable rift into our relationship. He was a grown man. If he wanted to put his life in danger, I couldn’t order him not to.
I gave a short, reluctant nod, turning around to open the van door and slip out. I didn’t open the door wide enough that any passersby could’ve seen the other officers inside, and Stephen followed suit.
Pausing at the open door, I spoke to the Leeds group inside. “When I call over the radio, we’ll do what we ran through. Fast as you can, alright?” I got nods in return, and satisfied, I shut the door behind me.
“You had to challenge me in front of all of them,” I snapped as I walked away, leaving Stephen to catch up with me.
“The alternative being leaving you out here without anyone to watch your six?” he said, just as sharply. “Yeah, I had to.”
I spun around to face him. “And your kids, Steph? Annie? What if something happens to you?”
He pressed his lips together. “This is my job. You’re my partner. I’m not shirking my duty.”
He walked on, heading towards the location that Wooding had instructed us to be at.
“Fine,” I sighed. I was still conflicted, and angry with him, but we couldn’t afford to be at odds right now. “We’ll discuss this later.”
He nodded. “Fine.”
We hung back at the street’s corner, not wanting to expose ourselves yet. This was the unremarkable street that Wooding had specified, and it was, thankfully, deserted.
I checked my watch, and so did Stephen. It was six on the dot, and the sky was dull with incoming nightfall, though the sunlight hadn’t disappeared just yet.
“We’ll wait until they show up,” I said to Stephen. I pulled out my phone to pretend to fiddle with it rather than making it obvious we were on the lookout. Stephen did the same, leaning back against the crumbly brick wall we were partially concealed by.
Subtly keeping an eye on the street, I scanned the area, taking in all the real-life details that no amount of studying Google Maps could give you. If we’d had more time, I would’ve wanted to scope out the place in person and done a run-through of the operation, but the timing hadn’t allowed for it.
“There,” Stephen said under his breath.
The street was residential and had a couple of cars parked up on the pavements, but the white van that pulled up looked suspiciously out of place. It crawled slowly down the street before coming to a rolling halt.
“We need them to get out,” I muttered, still pretending to look at my phone.
Stephen grunted. “They might turn and run when they don’t see Lawrence.”
“Lawrence said they searched for him last time,” I said. I was hoping badly that they’d follow the same pattern this time. Whilst we could follow the vehicle now we had it pinned down, and I’d primed the cops trained in high-speed pursuit in case of their being needed, I didn’t want this to have to come to a car chase. We wanted it wrapped up here, neatly.
My heart was racing in my chase as the seconds ticked by. I’d silenced my radio, not wanting the crackle to give us away, but my phone buzzed in my hands. I looked down at it. It was Gaskell, wanting to know what was going on.
Stephen nudged my side just as I was about to reply, and I looked up sharply. The white van’s door slid open, and I didn’t wait to see who climbed out before grabbing my radio and pressing the button.
“Now,” I hissed into it. “Move now, quickly!”
Because I was listening for it, I heard the slam of the police van’s door being thrown open from a street away, and pounding footsteps signalled their approach. Gaskell and the Leeds head officer would hang back to put up police tape, hopefully stopping any pedestrians from wandering into the area. I’d told the Leeds lot very firmly that we weren’t to start a firefight, with stray bullets flying around who knows where, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. They were there as a precaution, not because I actually wanted them to shoot. I had a taser on my belt, as did Stephen, and we’d always go for nonlethal attack over any other method, unless they started actively shooting at us.
While we waited the long, long seconds for the Leeds police to show, two men had climbed out of the van and were looking up and down the street. They both looked irritated, like they didn’t want to be here, and they stalked down the street with scowls on their faces. Stephen and I kept back, out of sight, so that we wouldn’t spook them back into the van.
“Lawrence!” one of them yelled abruptly, making my heart jump in my chest.
At the very same moment, the Leeds police ran up behind us, and I nodded to them, sending them forwards. I knew that Stephen and I should hang back, but I couldn’t help but follow when the Leeds officers moved quickly out onto the street.
The two men from the van saw the police and gave an alarmed yell, both of them booking it back to the van. The Leeds police couldn’t move fast enough with their body armour whilst staying in some kind of formation, so I put on a burst of speed. I couldn’t let those two escape being brought in for a minute longer.
“Darren!” Stephen yelled behind me, but I ignored him.
The faster of the two gang members, who’d been closer to the van, dived inside whilst the other one lagged behind. I saw the van driver’s panicked expression and, before the second man could get in, the van suddenly reversed, screeching backwards down the street. It executed a clumsy turn at the end of the row of houses as the second man ran after it, yelling for them to stop. But they didn’t, the van member taking off down the road and leaving the other behind.
I pushed my legs hard, sprinting down the pavement after the man left behind, who’d seen me coming and started running. He wasn’t actually slow at all, I realised, he’d just been much further from the van when the Leeds police had charged in.
He ran now, clearly pushing himself hard, and I raced after him, skidding around the turn and pushing off again. This guy was younger than I was, skinny and fast, but I didn’t run almost every day of the week so that I could be out-paced by some stripling criminal.
“Darren!” I heard, fainter, as Stephen yelled after me again.
This was reckless, I knew, but I was sick of letting others go ahead of me. This bloke wasn’t getting away if I had anything to do with it.
My breath was sawing in and out of my lungs as my legs pumped beneath me, but I found the air to shout, “Stop! Police!” not that it did any good. This guy was only making things worse for himself by resisting arrest, but I understood the primitive desire to flee from capture.
I pushed on, pressing myself harder. I wasn’t the fastest runner out there, but I did have stamina. The younger man started to flag after we’d turned a couple of street corners and I saw him starting to look for some other way out. But there was nothing but York’s maze of streets, twisting and turning.
As I was fast closing the gap on him, the man looked back over his shoulder and tripped over an uneven slab of pavement. I was on him in seconds, and he lashed out at me, aiming for my head. My arm came up instinctively to block him, but I didn’t manage to avoid the kick he sent at my shin. It glanced
off, but the pain of his boot heel slamming into my unprotected lower leg was temporarily blinding. I hissed, clenching my jaw.
The guy tried to scrabble back to his feet and away from me while I was distracted, but I lurched forwards to grab his jacket collar before he could, dragging him to his feet. I quickly patted his sides and found no weapon there, before I pulled his arms behind him and efficiently restrained him with the set of cuffs on my belt.
The guy was swearing under his breath, still panting from his running. I was breathing heavily, too, but it was beginning to level out.
“Alright,” I said gruffly. “Let’s move. You didn’t do yourself any favours by running, mate.”
“C’mon,” the guy whined. He was even younger up close than I’d realised. “I didn’t do anything.”
“We can discuss that at the station,” I said, firmly dragging him back towards where the police van was parked up, several streets away. It was too far to walk with a criminal in tow, but I could at least head in the right direction while I radioed in for the van to come to get us, which I did now. Standing still with the guy would’ve given him plenty of time to think about attacking me and making another pointless run for it, whereas walking with him kept him occupied.
He kept up a steady stream of threats, protestations of his innocence, and pleading as we walked and I ignored him. My leg didn’t feel like it was truly injured, but it was sure as hell throbbing painfully. I winced as I put weight on it. I was annoyed that this guy’s attack might stop me running for a day or so, but at least he hadn’t done any serious damage.
After radioing in where I was, it didn’t take long before the police van showed up, pulling up at the side of the road. Night had fully fallen now, and the orange street lamps were lit up. A couple of passersby shot us surprised, wide-eyed looks, crossing the road to get out of the way.
Stephen was the first out of the van, and I braced myself for his anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled at me, gesturing wildly.
I put out a hand and sent him a warning look. “We’ll discuss it later,” I said, my voice hard. He could air his grievances with me when I wasn’t holding a criminal, and without the Leeds police as our audience.
DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3 Page 71
