by Jack Slater
‘What…? What kind of bad, Sal?’ She could hardly have picked a worse time to call, but she sounded desperate. He was reluctant to put her off. Instead, he tried to concentrate on his driving as she hesitated. Coughed.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded strangled. ‘I think he might have done some things in the past. Killed some people.’
‘Killed? Are you…? Based on what?’
‘I went to check on him like I said, make sure he was OK or see if he’d left a note to tell me where he’d gone off to. He wasn’t there. Nor was his car or a note. But I found some stuff in his loft. I was… I thought, while I was there, I’d see if he had anything about his parents and that. I’ve never met them and he’s never talked about them. Whenever I asked, he just shut me down. But I’ve been trying to trace our family history, ancestors and that. I saw some suitcases in the loft, thought I’d have a look, see if he’d got anything useful in there. But there was a bunch of other stuff - papers, jewellery, ID’s. Stuff he shouldn’t… Couldn’t have if he wasn’t involved in... What should I do, Ben?’
‘Where are you?’
‘Back at home.’
‘Stay put. You say he’s disappeared? Does he know you’ve found this stuff?’
‘No.’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘It’s been three days.’
‘I’m in the middle of something now, but give me your number, let me speak to my boss and I’ll call you back in five minutes, OK?’
She hesitated.
‘Trust me. Five minutes, max. I promise. If anyone can help, it’s my boss. He’s good folk, Sal.’
He could understand her hesitation. She didn’t know Pete Gayle from Adam. But she knew Ben and that she could rely on him. Why else would she have phoned him? Finally, she spoke, decision made. ‘OK. Five minutes.’ She reeled off her number.
‘Got it. Now, lock the doors and stay safe. Five minutes, Sal. Promise.’
‘Thanks, Ben,’
CHAPTER TWO
Jesus!
Ben knew Sally wasn’t the type to go off the deep end. If she was worried enough to come to him with this, it had to be real. He hit the speed dial for Pete’s number while keeping one eye on the road ahead, searching for the bright blue Skoda while at the same time watching for errant pedestrians or other vehicles that might intersect his path as he drove fast towards the edge of the city.
‘Ben?’
‘Boss, I just had a call from an old girlfriend of mine. And it wasn’t a social call. Nothing we can do at this minute, of course, but I said I’d talk to you and call her back.’
‘What’s the problem?’
‘She’s in a bit of bother. Her dad’s gone missing. Him and her mum divorced years ago, but he stayed local and she stayed in touch with him, though she lived with her mum. Anyway, that’s not the point. While she was looking for him she came across some stuff in his loft that points towards him being involved in some murders, way back.’
‘Is this for real?’
‘She’s not the sort to take the piss, boss. And we haven’t spoken for years.’
Pete was silent for what felt to Ben like half a minute as he hurtled up the narrow residential road at what would have been dangerous speeds were it not for the lights and sirens that flared and blared from his grille.
Eventually, he could take it no longer.
‘Boss, she’s come to me because she trusts me. We were close. I can’t see her shopping her own dad otherwise.’
Pete sighed on the other end of the line. ‘OK, Ben. Tell her to get with some company, just in case, and we’ll look into it once we’ve finished what we’re doing. And there are three occupants in the Roadster. Mrs Turnbull and both brothers.’
‘Shit.’ A hostage situation was the last thing they needed with these two. They were known to be wilfully vicious. ‘And thanks, boss. I couldn’t have passed it off to anyone else.’ Instinctively, he glanced in the mirror, knowing Pete was only a short distance behind him though still out of sight.
‘Let’s just catch these two buggers first, eh?’
Pete ended the call before Ben could respond. He grinned as he keyed in Sally’s home number.
Then jammed on the brakes as he caught a glimpse of bright electric blue from the far side of the car park on his left.
Of course, there were thousands of cars in that colour on the roads, but not so many with that distinctive high roof and boxy shape. He flicked off the lights and sirens, hauled the car round on squealing tyres into the entrance and keyed the radio mike as he let the steering straighten up once he’d made the turn.
‘Possible target vehicle, far side of the supermarket car park, Okehampton Road. Checking it out.’
Sally could wait for a few more seconds.
He winced as a dark coloured 4x4 started backing out of a space on his left, just feet away. Reaching for the siren switch, he resisted at the last moment. He didn’t want to alert the suspects if they were just a few yards away. The element of surprise was the one thing he had in his favour right now.
Luckily, the big vehicle stopped as the driver spotted him and Ben passed unscathed. Getting closer, he could see that the blue car was indeed the right make and model. He made the last turn and approached cautiously, wishing he had a passenger to provide an extra pair of eyes as he needed both to avoid the shoppers all around him but at the same time needed to read the number plate without making it glaringly obvious.
He saw the last letters first. DFE. Then the numbers. Nine five.
A little white Nissan backed out of a space on the other side of the roadway, just a couple of yards short of the Skoda he was looking at. He stopped to let them out, taking the opportunity they’d inadvertently offered.
Peering at an acute angle at the plate on his left.
WP.
It was them.
He keyed the radio. ‘Sighting confirmed. Sighting confirmed. Suspects not visible but it is the vehicle they left in.’ He released the radio and swung his car into the space left by the little Nissan.
‘Do not approach, Ben,’ the response came from Pete. ‘Repeat, do not approach. Wait for back-up.’
‘Received.’
He wasn’t going to waste the next few seconds, though. Keeping his eyes peeled, he picked up his mobile phone and dialled. The call was picked up almost before it connected.
‘Ben?’
‘Yes. I spoke to my boss. He said to tell you to go somewhere with some company. Ease your mind a bit. We’ll look into things as soon as we’re done here.’
‘Thanks, Ben. You’re a star. You really are.’
‘And I suppose you’re a poet and didn’t know it.’
She laughed nervously. ‘Yeah, I suppose I am. Where should I go? I’ve got to pick Jem up from nursery in a bit.’
‘Jem?’
‘Of course, you haven’t met him, have you? My little lad. He’s three now. I suppose I could take him round to Mum’s. But how long for? Tony’ll be coming home and…’ She paused. ‘Tony’s Jem’s dad.’
Ben was all too aware of the seconds ticking by.
‘Can you call Tony from your mum’s get him to meet you there instead? Just go to the nursery a bit early, have a chat with the other mums and that. I can’t give you a timescale, Sal. We’ll pick it up as soon as we can but we’re right in the middle of… Oi!’ He frowned sharply at a woman who was clambering awkwardly into the car next to his and had banged the edge of her door into his. ‘Gimme your dad’s address and we’ll be in touch as soon as we can get there, OK?’
‘I don’t want to…’
The woman glared back at him from the car to his right as her husband started the engine and began to reverse out.
‘Never mind that, Sal. It’s what we’re here for. I remember he used to be up on Wreford’s Lane. Is he still?’
‘Yes. Number twenty-five.’
‘And what does he drive nowadays?’
‘A dirty green Peugeot e
state car. I don’t know the number though. Don’t even know my own, if I’m honest.’
‘OK, leave it with me. I’ll get back to you soon.’
‘Thanks, Ben.’
‘See you later.’ He ended the call as he spotted a patrol car easing up the same roadway he’d used and what he thought was his boss’ silver Mondeo on a parallel one to his left. As they both reached the cross-route he was parked on he stepped out of the car, plenty of room around him now as the space next to his had yet to be reoccupied.
He confirmed it was Pete’s car approaching from one side while the patrol car came up from the other, swung across the road-way as if it was going to reverse in next to him, then stopped, blocking the route completely. Its blue lights flicked on, silently rotating as the two uniformed officers stepped out and nodded to Ben. As he moved up to meet them a woman with a trolley full of shopping approached the car next to the blue Skoda. Pete crossed quickly towards her, holding out an arm to stop her. She protested briefly but then backed off.
The two patrol officers approached the suspect car cautiously, hands at their belts like a couple of old West gunfighters. Then they looked up and around at Pete.
‘Clear, Sarge.’
They’d ditched it.
Had they gone into the store or simply lifted another vehicle and got away?
Ben saw Pete’s gaze rise to the lamp posts around the car park as his did the same, looking for security cameras.
‘Right. Get the entrance manned. No vehicle leaves without being checked,’ Pete said briskly. ‘Ben, get onto the others, bring them in here to start a search of the car park then join me inside. We’ll go through the camera footage, see if we can spot them.’
‘Boss.’ Ben ducked back into his car and keyed the radio. He knew enough about the Southam brothers to guess what they would have done. A nice big 4x4, a single woman loading her shopping into the back. They’d have approached her from either side, bundled her in and driven out of here. If she was lucky, she’d survive the experience unharmed, but that was another story. And they had to be sure. Plus, with any luck, the cameras might give them a registration to search for.
‘Ben Myers for Dave Miles, Jane Bennett and Dick Feeney. Over.’
*
Pete ran for the store entrance. He met one of the store security guards coming out towards him to see what all the fuss was about in their car park. He lifted his warrant card. ‘DS Gayle, Heavitree Road CID. I need your CCTV room. Possible kidnap of one of your customers out there.’
That got his attention.
‘Right. Follow me, Sarge.’ For a big man, he moved surprisingly fast, heading back towards the store entrance at a brisk pace. Pete didn’t recognise him as a retired copper, but he was clearly ex-services of some kind.
Pete followed him into the store and up a narrow staircase to the CCTV room on the first floor. The security man’s badge gave them entry to a tiny semi-darkened room. Between the two of them, the bank of screens and another uniformed security man, they pretty much filled it.
‘George will give you whatever you need, Sarge,’ the big man said. ‘I’ll get back out there.’
‘Thanks.’ Pete nodded and turned to the seated man. ‘DS Gayle, Heavitree Road.’ He accepted the hand-shake the man offered. ‘A bright blue Skoda Roadster came into the car park here less than five minutes ago and parked along the back. At least two people got out of it, one of them female. I need to know where they went as quickly as you can. She’s a kidnap victim and they may have taken another from here.’
‘Shit. Right. OK.’ The man spun back to his screens while Pete leaned against the one empty wall – the one that included the door – and watched him work. Keys clicked and tapped in the small, quiet space. The screens flickered. People and cars changed in an instant as the time readouts shifted, then normal service seemed to resume for a second before everything began moving at a rapid pace. Pete had yet to figure out where the guy was looking when he abruptly said, ‘There.’
He hit a key and everything stopped as he pointed to the third screen from the left on the top row. Peering closer, Pete could see the blue Skoda angled towards the space it was going to occupy. ‘Got it.’
Motion resumed in real time. The car swung into the empty space. Three doors opened. Two men and a woman emerged, the man from the rear getting out behind the woman, boxing her in so she had nowhere to go. He closed his door and grabbed her subtly. The other guy – the larger of the two – pointed and they moved off. Diagonally across from them a woman was loading a stacked trolley of shopping into the back of a black older-model Range Rover. From this distance with her blonde hair pulled into a pony-tail, a blouse and jeans, she looked about Pete’s age.
‘Have you got a zoom on there?’ he asked.
‘There’s a bit but it’s mostly digital. Quality’s not good.’ The guard grabbed the joystick and demonstrated. The picture hadn’t enlarged much when it began to break up.
‘OK, that’ll do. Maybe they’ll get closer to another camera.’
‘One of the forecourt cameras catches the exit road.’
‘Perfect. Run it on, let’s see what they did.’ He could have predicted what would happen next, but he still had to see it for himself.
There was a click from the door behind Pete and it opened to admit Ben. ‘Boss?’
‘We’ve found them, Ben. Call the others off the search and get ready to move,’ he said without taking his eyes off the screen.
‘Will do.’ Ben stepped out again, the door closing behind him.
The three figures had waited patiently for the woman to finish loading her shopping, return the trolley to a bay a few steps away and come back to her car. Steve Southam kept a tight grip on their female companion all the while, one hand on her upper arm, the other low down, tucked between them.
Pete guessed he had a knife or some other weapon in that hand and he would have enjoyed keeping the woman under tight control as she watched events unfold, unable to do anything about them for fear of her own life.
Then, as the woman returned to her Range Rover, Adrian Southam stepped up quickly behind her. There was no-one else close enough to take any notice as he grabbed her pony-tail with one hand and jabbed her in the spine with the other. Steve brought their original captive across the gangway and they all piled into the 4x4, the woman who owned it in the driver’s seat.
Pete could see Southam ordering her to lock them all in before moving quickly around the front to the other passenger door. A quick burst from the exhaust pipe and she reversed out and headed for the entrance, passing Ben’s car in the opposite direction as he drove up towards the abandoned Skoda.
‘Cheeky bastards,’ the security guard muttered.
‘You’ve got no idea, mate. Let’s see if we can get a registration number.’
‘Right you are.’ He hit a key and the motion on the screen sped up until he paused it again, freezing the images and pointing to a different screen. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? Left lane.’
‘Yep.’ Pete peered closely at the screen he was pointing to.
‘Hold on,’ the guard said and zoomed the camera in slightly. ‘There. Best I can do.’
‘It’s good enough.’ Pete reached for his radio. ‘DS Gayle to all units. Suspects are now in a black Range Rover.’ He read out the registration. ‘They turned left out of the car park three minutes ago, now with two, repeat two, female hostages. Get a registered keeper on that plate and get after them.’ He released the transmit button and lowered the radio. ‘You know what I’m going to ask for now, don’t you?’
‘There’s already a disc in the drive, Sergeant.’
‘Good man.’
Moments later, disc drive humming as it burned a DVD of the footage he needed, Pete’s radio hissed. ‘Black Range Rover’s registered to a Carlton Webber of Cheriton Bishop, boss,’ Jane told him.
‘Presumably, Mr Webber’s married,’ he responded. ‘And what’s the status on our Skoda owner?’
‘Mr Turnbull’s been taken to the RDE. He was found unconscious on the floor of his sitting room. Looks like one of them used a choke hold on him. Here we go. Carlton Webber married Cathleen Bishop in 2011.’
‘There’s our second hostage, then.’
The disc stopped whirring and the drive popped open in front of him. The security guard took out the disc and slipped it into a paper sleeve, handing it up to Pete.
‘You know we’re going to have to hand this off to the double r’s, boss.’
The uniformed Rapid Response Unit specialised in pursuit and capture. This was exactly the sort of job they were there for. It felt wrong to hand any job off unfinished and when it involved his own family’s safety, every fibre of his being wanted to resist but he knew Jane was right. He had no choice.
‘I know, Jane - much as it pains me. Get Dave to give them a shout. We’ve got something else to do, anyway.’ He released the button and thanked the security man.
‘What’s that, boss?’
‘Ask Ben. I’ll be there in a minute.’
CHAPTER THREE
As Pete approached Ben’s car, the contrasts between the members of his team bunched around the rear of it were starkly obvious in the late spring sunshine. Ben’s spiky hair gleamed in the sun between the ginger beacon of Jane’s swept back bob on one side and the long, narrow streak of grey that was Dick Feeney on the other. Dave Miles’ all-black bulk at Dick’s other side was relieved only by the office-pale complexion of his regular features.
Dave’s helmet sat on the back of his big black Norton which was parked across the back of Ben’s little car. Pete couldn’t see either Jane’s or Dick’s vehicles.
‘So, what’s the story, Ben?’
‘I’ve known Sally Hanson since we were ten years old, boss. She’s solid, despite her circumstances as a kid.’ He shrugged. ‘Parents divorcing and so on. She called me out of the blue this morning. Hadn’t seen her for ages, hadn’t spoken to her for longer. But her dad’s done a vanishing act. She went round to his house to see what she could see, searched it and found some stuff that she wasn’t expecting. She described it as papers, jewellery and ID’s related to a number of outstanding cases.’
