‘I know. It’s a shock to us all.’
‘How is he?’
‘He’s very ill, Helen. He was shot in the chest. It’s touch and go. He’s been airlifted to Kings, and we’ll know a lot more once they can get him assessed in the right environment.’
‘Jesus,’ Helen said again. She bit her lip and looked round her empty kitchen.
‘Look, I know it’s a shock, I know you’re not feeling well and this is a bit of a bolt from the blue, but would you be fit enough to return to work? We need someone to run this thing from Langthorne House. I am facing a barrage from the press up here at HQ and I can’t really get away. I know you have the experience . . . and it wouldn’t be forgotten.’
‘Of course I can.’ Helen had gathered her thoughts a little. Yes, it was a shock, in large part because she had been the one to put the chief in harm’s way. She struggled to feel any sympathy for the chief. Twice, he had put her on the chopping board. He’d played her very well, covering his own ineffectiveness during this force’s darkest hour, and was setting her up to take the fall for it. She was merely returning the favour. Having the DCC begging her to come back and save the day was a better result than she had dared hope for.
‘That’s great, Helen. Like I said, I won’t forget your help. I will send a firearms team to pick you up.’
‘A team? They didn’t get the shooter in, then?’
‘No. There’s still a very real threat. The offender made off on a motorbike. We lost him somewhere on the towpaths by the Hythe canal, and we have the area locked down as we speak. I have Inspector Lance running that on the ground. You’ll need to make contact with him. He can give you a full update.’
‘Understood. Don’t worry about releasing a firearms team to come and get me, I can drive myself in. Sounds like we can’t really spare the resources until this man’s in custody.’
‘We can’t be sure that he’s working alone, Helen. This could all be part of a bigger plot. I can’t guarantee your safety.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll make my own way in. I can probably slip under the radar better in my own car than in those blacked-out four-by-fours they drive.’
‘Fine. Look, I have to go. Keep in touch, Helen. Your office has my direct number and obviously I have yours.’
‘Understood.’ Helen smiled.
CHAPTER 30
‘That’s it! It’s gotta be.’ PC Steve Goddes brought the car to an abrupt stop. A black bike was lying on its side, the front wheel skewed at an angle. It was lying half-hidden in some shrubs at the edge of the thick woodland that lined parts of the canal. There were fresh drag marks along the gravel towpath leading to it. ‘We should call it in,’ he said.
Cavan Kendall nodded. ‘We should. They’re going to be pissed that we’re still out looking, though.’
Back at the nick, whoever was in charge had taken a breath and realised they had a lot of beat cops out in brightly marked cars looking for a man who had just shot two officers. The area was now flooded with firearms officers and everyone else had been told to leave, and to assist with road closures and cordons. Neither Steve nor Cavan were very keen on standing at a barrier for hours on end, so they had kept searching, keeping outside the area the firearms team were now looking to get sterile.
Cavan shrugged, radio in his hand. ‘Zulu Echo Three, Three control.’
‘Echo Three, Three go ahead.’
‘Control, we are at the towpath, east of Hythe in line with the golf course. We have an abandoned black motorcycle with fresh drag marks half concealed in woodland, close to the canal bank, no signs of any other persons or vehicles at this time, but we haven’t investigated too closely.’
‘Received that, Zulu Yankee One Zero, did you receive the last?’ Zulu Yankee One Zero was the call sign for Inspector Barry Lance, who had been designated Bronze Commander.
‘Yankee One Zero, confirm we have a sighting of the bike?’
‘Zulu Echo Three, Three are reporting an abandoned bike matching the description with fresh drag marks. It’s on the towpath, but further along, just within the search area, sir.’
‘Received, control, I didn’t think we had anyone searching that area?’
Cavan and Steve exchanged a glance. ‘Here comes the bollocking.’
‘Have them remain in their vehicle. I want them to withdraw to the entrance to that road or the obvious access point and effectively manage a cordon from that point. They are to pull away with any sign of movement around that bike, or any aggression towards them. I’m sending a firearms team over on flash.’
‘Zulu Yankee Three, three did you receive the last?’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘Well, that’s put the cat among the pigeons. You reckon he’s in here somewhere?’ Steve scanned the woodland area from the car window. The area was dense in places but too small to hide in for long. Their man would look to move away from the canal altogether. He would either use one of the numerous places to cross, over the golf course and towards the sea, or back towards the road where the two officers had been instructed to stand. Cross this road and you could get lost in the tight streets and homes of Hythe town.
‘Who knows? You can get anywhere you like from there, it’s a big old area to search,’ Cavan said.
‘True, but he won’t get far on foot, not quickly at least.’
‘Right on cue!’ Cavan smiled and leaned out of his window, peering up at a low-flying helicopter that hung overhead. Steve suddenly realised that the Bronze Commander would no doubt be looking at a live feed from the helicopter’s camera, mounted underneath and able to turn 360 degrees with high-definition clarity. They hadn’t driven away as they had been instructed.
‘We should get out of here, before we get in any more trouble.’
* * *
Back at headquarters in Maidstone, DCC Darren Lewis was also watching the feed from his office. His PA stood next to him with her arms crossed. He had four minutes until he was due to give another update to the press, and right now there was nothing much new to give them.
‘Excuse me, sir.’ The door to Darren’s office was usually open — he hated working any other way. He saw Detective Chief Inspector Steve Jones standing on the threshold.
‘Steve! Come in. Did you get greyer, man?’
Steve’s hand automatically went to his head. ‘We’re all getting greyer, sir!’
Darren turned his attention back to the monitor. On screen, the camera had zoomed out to show two plain vehicles. A third vehicle, carrying the more traditional “Battenberg” markings ejected a police search dog and its handler. They immediately started a sweep along the path, starting from the bike and walking outwards, the dog leading the way, a firearms team with raised assault rifles backing him up. The helicopter was keeping the search team dead centre, occasionally zooming in and holding when they entered the thicker parts of the wood.
‘Anything good on?’ Steve joked. He had a strong Welsh accent.
‘Not really. Daytime telly is always a bit shit. How you doing, Steve?’
‘I’m okay. We’re getting regular updates on the boss. He’s a tough, cantankerous old shit, sir, with respect. He’ll be just fine, I reckon.’
‘And if he isn’t, maybe you could write his obituary.’ Darren smiled again, his attention still on his screen.
‘You know, I think he’d like that.’
‘It might need a little work, but there’s no one better placed.’ Darren was referring to the fact that the current chief of Lennokshire Police had spent some time in Wales, working as part of their serious and organised crime group, and then he had headed up child exploitation for the whole of South Wales police. He had needed to rely on having good people around him, and one of those had been Steve Jones. Steve had been promoted twice with John Stone’s blessing while working on the investigative side of child exploitation. Steve owed him. They weren’t friends — John Stone neither needed nor wanted friendship — but they respected each other, and Steve had been offere
d an opportunity not to be refused when he followed his old boss down to Lennokshire.
‘This is going to take a while, isn’t it?’ Steve said, knowing the answer.
‘Yeah, these firearms boys can’t be taking risks. It’s a big area too.’
‘I don’t see him ditching his bike and then staying too close to it anyway, do you?’
‘No, but we have to be sure.’
‘Of course.’
‘We’re doing some checks on the bike’s chassis number, but it’s probably nicked. Helen Webb should shortly be established as Silver, so we can expect stuff to start happening then. She doesn’t mess around, that woman.’
‘I heard she was on her way down there. Sir, I need to talk to you, if I may, just a few moments of your time.’
Darren turned his attention away from the monitor and met his colleague’s stern gaze.
‘This must be serious indeed,’ he said, still continuing to smile. ‘No problem. Anne, would you mind giving us a second?’
The PA nodded and stepped out.
‘What’s so urgent? I need to be out speaking to the press right now, Steve.’ He checked his watch as he spoke.
‘It’s about Helen Webb.’
‘Helen Webb?’
‘Yes.’
‘You still look serious. You have a problem with the area commander?’
‘Not really, not personally anyway. I don’t really know her, to be honest. I just know that the boss had an issue with her. Part of his day down there was going to be spent speaking to Helen.’
‘Speaking to her?’
‘He was telling her to step down. He was going to let her walk away, but he had enough to get rid of her if she refused. He was proper pissed. I know he can be quite abrupt, but he was even worse than usual.’
‘He told you this?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s not like him, to speak out about that sort of thing, not before she even knew.’ Darren tilted his head a little, clearly unconvinced.
‘I agree, and I think it shows just how rattled he was.’
‘Okay . . . ?’
‘I spoke to Helen’s PA. He met with her before he left for the ceremony. After the meeting, Helen went out. She called her PA to tell her she wasn’t coming back in, that she was feeling unwell. At some point before she went home, she made a call to your Bronze Commander. She said she’d reassessed the security needs for the ceremony and stood the armed personal protection team down. Barry Lance’s team were searching some missing person’s house when the shooting started. The bloke with the gun was tackled by a beat copper in his dress uniform, who took a bullet for his troubles.’
‘And you don’t think this is circumstantial?’
‘The boss has been doing some work on Helen. I don’t know the full ins and outs of it, he’d said far too much to me as it was, but if you were to speak to someone at PSD they might know a bit more about it.’
‘PSD?’
‘Yeah, someone senior I would guess. I’m pretty sure the boss had them doing some work on Helen. He never said it directly but he more than hinted, if you know what I mean. It has to be relevant — us detectives don’t really do circumstantial.’
Darren rubbed at his chin. ‘That sounds like good advice. So, what? We think she was somehow involved in the shooting of the chief constable?’
‘That is quite a leap. But she had a meeting in which she fell out rather badly with him and faced losing her job. Maybe she was aware of the threat to the boss, and did what she could to move away our resources.’
‘That’s not such a leap.’
There was a soft tap, and Darren’s PA stood in the doorway. ‘Sir, the press are waiting. You know what these people are like. I’m so sorry to interrupt.’
‘Don’t be, it’s not a problem. I’ll follow you out.’
His PA left the door open.
‘Thanks, Steve. I just need to deal with these cretins from the press and then I can get more of a handle on this.’
‘You have Helen down there leading this thing from Langthorne House?’
‘I do, yeah. There’s not too much I can do about that right now, to be honest. I think we’re going to have to let this play out, but at least I’m a lot more aware of the background now. If she steps out of line, I will be on it. I don’t have the resources to deal with her while all this other stuff is going on. It’ll have to be something that’s done slow time.’
‘Understood,’ Steve said.
‘For now, could you stay by the monitor? I won’t be long but if anything significant happens you have my absolute permission to come and pull me out of there. That okay?’
‘No problem.’
The DCC left and Steve Jones turned back to the monitor, still showing a close-up image of the search teams of six armed officers. They remained in tight formation, shouting instructions at bemused dog walkers who could be seen being hastily patted down then moved to another part of the open area by a second team of armed officers. One thing Steve felt sure of, as he watched the team disappear into a dense clump of trees and the helicopter’s camera panned back out: this was not going to be resolved peacefully.
CHAPTER 31
Kane Forley grinned, even though the door had opened to reveal a snub-nosed pistol held at head height.
‘This how you greet all your guests?’ Kane said.
‘You need to turn round and fuck off, right now.’ Ed Kavski’s voice was shaking with rage.
‘Can’t do that. This town is crawling with cops.’
‘That’s why you need to fuck off. What the fuck do you think you are doing coming here?’
‘Where else would I go?’ Kane thrust his hands behind his back and leant forward as if to inspect the weapon more closely. ‘If you had agreed to speak to me I would have told you that this was always part of the grand plan. You might even have been able to talk me out of it. Instead, we now have to have this rather tiresome exchange on the doorstep of your exclusive residence. The last thing you want to be doing on a day like this is to be stood at your own front door, in public view,’ Kane stepped back a little, ‘With a gun in your hand.’
Ed hesitated, but not for long. He kept the gun raised and moved backwards into the hallway. Kane shrugged, and then stepped in after him, grimacing briefly as he stood on his left leg.
‘Nice place. I don’t suppose the kettle’s on?’
‘What plan?’ Ed growled. ‘Just start talking.’
‘Pardon?’
‘This grand plan. What do me and this place have to do with it?’
‘Ah. Well, you will know some of it at least. I have no doubt that Tommy was on the phone to you by the time I got back to my bike.’
Ed sneered. ‘You turned up off your face on coke, talking shit about taking out the chief constable of Lennokshire Police and wanting a shooter off him. Sensibly, he told you to fuck off.’
Kane sniffed. He seemed bigger than Ed remembered him, in every sense. He was a more imposing figure somehow. Ed had met him earlier in the year when he’d become aware that they had a common enemy in George Elms, and that Kane wanted him dead. Ed had helped Kane. He had put him in touch with the man who could supply the tools, and with a couple of blokes at Langthorne House who owed him favours. When Kane had come to him, he had been a sinewy mass of barely contained anger, and Ed wasn’t sure if he wanted to get involved with him. Tommy Cotter had always said that Kane would cause them problems, but since Kane was taking all the risks, Ed hadn’t been too bothered.
Kane was different now. He was even more unpredictable, still sniffing the Class A drug that fuelled his anger and wrecked his judgment, but more solid, less stringy. Kane wore black leathers. He’d unzipped the top half and it hung round his waist, loosely tied at the arms. A plain white T-shirt was stuck to his chest with sweat, revealing a muscled torso. A large black rucksack was on his back.
Ed stood facing him. ‘You must have known that if you came here I would shoot you in the face rather
than let you in. I had you down as cleverer than that.’
‘You didn’t though, did you? Shoot me in the face, I mean, and I’m in, aren’t I? You’re not that stupid. This town is jammed full of very nervous, very excitable coppers. You wouldn’t want a gunshot and a body in your house today, would you? Or worse, have to get rid of it by getting out of the town? That ain’t gonna happen, is it? I imagine the roads out are blocked. They’ll be searching anyone that tries to leave Hythe.’
‘So why run here? Why not run as far away as you fucking can? Give them a bigger area to search, less chance of finding you?’
‘Because they’re so predictable. They have systems — standard operating procedures they call them — for just about every type of incident. Today, for example. I left them my bike to find. Soon as they do, they stick a pin in a map and start working away from it. Slowly. Fucking hands and knees to start with, sticking their noses through just about everyone’s house and garden. They’ll have this town terrified, because they’re fucking terrified themselves.’ Kane’s face lit up, and his eyes were wide and excited. ‘If I can get to their chief, if I can shoot him in broad daylight when he’s stood mourning the last six coppers I took out, they have to know I can get to any one of them, at any time.’
‘But they have George Elms for that. That’s what you wanted, you stitched him up good. Why would you make them think it might not be him?’
‘Because they weren’t scared anymore. I had them all terrified, one bastard shot and dying in the car park on the way home, one bleeding out under his fucking motorbike. I had them dying while sitting in their cars or turning up to 999 calls. They had never felt fear like it. That was what I wanted. It weren’t just about George Elms. And when Elms went away, they stopped looking over their shoulders. They went back to normal. Well, it ain’t normal. I’m still here and I can still get to them whenever I fucking want to.’ Spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth.
BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists Page 17
