The Retirement Party

by Graham Miller

  They parked up on the side street of the deserted industrial estate. A hundred years ago, it would've been thriving , but now the brick buildings were abandoned and grass grew out of the concrete. The edges of the roads and car parks were softened by encroaching brambles. DC Angel looked out of the windscreen. To her right she could see the oily water of the creek but there were no boats there any more.

  'Sir,' DC Angel said nervously. 'Did you read that diary we found at Patterson's house?'

  'I did.'

  'Why did he do it?'

  Haines looked at Angel, as if to ask why she wanted to bring this up now. But he understood. Close off one case in your head to concentrate on the next. 'Like I said last night, he started when he retired. Thought he was doing good. It's hard, you know, having a lifetime in the police. He made a difference, he made decisions that were literally life and death, day in, day out for thirty or forty years. Then one day, he retired, and suddenly he was a nobody. I think all this was a way of regaining some power, some control. The more his wife got ill, the less he felt in control, the more time he spent driving around.' He took a deep breath. 'When Mazey Taylor tried to take his photo, he realised how deep in trouble he was. He didn't even have the improvised baton then, just used his arm to kill her. The diary is very confused after that. I think he was still trying to justify himself. Kill a few, to save the many. That kind of nonsense.' He shook his head. 'He knew. When you came to look at the car, he knew that you'd caught him. That's what the final piece of theatre was all about.'

  'It's a sad end to a good career.'

  'Well, when this raid is over, I'm going to have to figure out how to let the public know the attacks have stopped without smearing his good name.'

  DC Angel bit her tongue. She wanted to say that Patterson didn't deserve to have a good name. Or to ask if the diary would ever be entered into evidence. She supposed that Haines had broken far more regulations than holding onto evidence for twenty-four hours.

  She didn't get a chance to find a way to bring any of this up before a shiny black BMW X5 slid past the end of their road. They just saw it turn towards the warehouse before it disappeared. There was the faint rumble and boom of a big door opening and shutting.

  'Party guests are arriving,' Haines said more to himself than anyone else. His mobile buzzed and he snatched it up. 'What the hell!' Haines looked around the estate. 'Angel, can you back the car up until we can see down that alley.' He twisted around and pointed at an alley twenty metres behind them.

  Angel did what she was told, and they saw Billy King with his usual two hulking bodyguards, all watching the warehouse, with their backs to Angel and Haines.

  'Hargreaves was right! The bloody idiot. This isn't a spectator sport. I need to send Billy home. Wait here, I'll be back in five.'

  DC Angel watched him walk down an alley between two low buildings, one without a roof. She debated with herself very briefly, then also left her car. This could be her chance to get Haines away from the operation, steer him to safety.

  She followed at a cautious distance, rolling her feet and avoiding the debris that littered the floor. But she needn't have bothered – Haines was relaxed and confident. He had nothing to fear. She tucked herself into a doorway where she could watch the two men.

  DC Angel could see the warm body language – the handshake with a left-hand elbow grip. They smiled and nodded in unison. DC Angel was aware of the two bodyguards. Barely discernible in the shadows the two huge figures weren't staying at the regulation two steps behind and to either side of their boss.

  She became fixated on them, wondering why they were moving around. The estate was deserted, there was no one else nearby. Because she was focusing on the bodyguards, she saw one make eye contact and nod to his companion. When the other smiled and nodded back, she knew there was trouble.

  She was already jogging when she saw King go down. His own bodyguard was behind him, controlling him with one enormous arm around his neck. DC Angel couldn't see what the other arm was doing but King jerked once before going limp.

  At the same time the other one produced something from a pocket and hit Haines sharply just above his right ear. He went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes, catching his head on the wall as he fell. In the horror of the moment, time appeared to slow down for DC Angel. She saw her boss lying on the floor. His attacker shifted his stance and slowly brought a heavy foot back, ready for a kick. He was like a footballer, preparing to launch the ball halfway down the pitch.

  She gave up any pretence of stealth and launched into a full sprint. She couldn't let her boss take a kick like that to the head. An injury like that would be life changing and was meant to kill. The absurd unfairness of it swept over her. Haines had always, despite his failings, tried to do the right thing. He didn't deserve to die in a litter-swept alley. No one did.

  Her training took over and as she got close, she planted her left foot next to Haines' hand and pivoted her whole body, landing a kick squarely on the bodyguard's left knee – the leg he was balancing on as he prepared his own kick.

  She heard the knee snap as they both fell over the body of DCI Haines. As soon as she knew she'd landed on top, she flailed around with her elbow. She managed to jab at his face but without any real power.

  She rolled awkwardly off both bodies and scrambled back to her feet, looking for somewhere safe to stand. She backed away so she wouldn't trip over the tumbled bodies of Haines and his attacker.

  The other bodyguard turned to her and smiled. He flung Billy King away like a rag doll and waved a large knife menacingly in front of him. Its long, thin blade was slick with blood. He looked absurdly happy – he was over a foot taller than her, looked like he was twice her body weight and he had a knife.

  But she had anger. Ice cold rage flushed through her. Haines had been so stupid to walk into this mess, to have been sleepwalking to this point for years. She hated all forms of deception and this double-cross was the cruellest of all.

  Those bodyguards were meant to protect Billy King and now he was lying, unmoving on the floor because of what they'd done. Their betrayal. Now she faced one of them. She had a clear choice. Either she would die here in this abandoned alleyway or she could fight. She could fight to ensure that, for all their faults, Rob Haines and Billy King would get justice.

  She took stock of herself. Her leg ached where she'd spun for the kick then fallen over the bodies. Her knuckles were grazed and bleeding. She ached because she'd leapt straight in without the usual warm up in the gym. And she was angry and upset. She pushed those feelings aside, leaving only the nervous flutter in her stomach that usually came before a test.

  She didn't want to take her eyes off the man or the knife, but she needed to know her surroundings so she took quick glances around. Haines was roughly in the recovery position, but he wasn't moving. King had landed in a heap, with a bloody stain spreading across his chest and pooling around him. If he isn't already dead, she thought, he won't last long. She was unable to feel anything about that at the moment. The other bodyguard, the one who'd attacked Haines had moved himself into a sitting position. Both hands were clamped around his ruined knee as if he could hold it together and stop the swelling. She could see that his short wooden truncheon had rolled a safe distance away.

  That left only one problem – the other bodyguard. He had realised that she wasn't backing off so he advanced slowly. Using both his reach and the knife to intimidate, he made a huge sweeping arc with the knife right in front of her. Like most people, she leant away from the blade, took a step back. He swung back the other way, still advancing. Again, she stepped back, praying that he'd fall into a pattern. The third swing, the third step back. But this time, as soon as the blade was past, she leapt forward.

  His wrist was so huge she had to seize it in both her hands. She wrapped his arm across his body and drove him back. However, even if he wasn't greatly skilled, he was strong. He twisted his arm in her hands and nearly lifted her from her feet
. She squirmed as the blade waved around dangerously.

  With his left hand he flailed around, trying to land punches on her head. She turned away but he still hit the back of her head, grabbing her hair and raking her ear. She felt her earring being ripped from her lobe.

  However, she still couldn't let him break his knife hand free of her grip. She was here alone, no chance to call for help despite the officers all around her. She needed to try something new so she kicked out at his kneecap but couldn't kick hard enough. In frustration, she scraped down his shin with her work boot and drove her foot hard into his instep.

  In pain, he relaxed and drew back slightly. She needed to deal with the knife before anything. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, she grabbed his little finger and pulled and twisted it back as hard as she could. As soon as the knife clattered to the ground, she relaxed and felt like she might have a chance.

  She knew from training the best way to end the fight. She was tired and scared. He was far bigger and stronger than her and still might land the killer blow. She still had grip on his right hand, so she pulled downwards and backwards. As hoped, he leant forward. She bunched her legs and drove her head straight up into his face.

  Finally, she had a bit of luck. The hardest part of her forehead smashed squarely into his nose at just the right angle. She heard it crack and before she jerked her head back, his warm blood flowed into her face. She was disgusted and took a step backwards, finally releasing her enemy's hand.

  He was dazed for a second so she seized her chance. She swept her cuffs out, clipped one around his wrist and immediately snapped the other around an iron ladder behind him. He sank down so he was sitting with his back to the wall, his hand just above his head.

  Her urge was to give him one final kick but she knew that she mustn't stoop to their level. Cautiously she walked back, keeping both bodyguards in view. The man with the knife, who'd probably killed Billy King, was not even trying to free himself. Blood was still flowing down his face; his nose was swelling and two black eyes were developing.

  The other man, the one who'd coshed Haines, still hadn't moved from where he was clutching his swollen knee. Just to be safe, she cuffed his wrists together, but he wasn't bothered.

  She knew the answer already, but she still made herself check Billy King. No pulse. He was dead.

  Finally, having assured herself that the area was safe, she went over to Haines. Expertly she put him properly into the recovery position, checked that he was breathing and noticed the blood seeping from his right ear.

  Her world slowly cracked apart around her. She shook as the adrenaline washed through her system. Everything had changed. She had no idea now of what would happen next. King was dead and Haines was just hanging on. There's no way that the two bodyguards would have done it alone. Who had ordered it?

  She sank down to the ground and sat down next to Haines. She knew her first aid but she couldn't help herself. Keeping the recovery position intact she eased DCI Haines' head into her lap.

  'Shhh. It'll be okay. Help is coming.' She stroked his hair. He had a graze on his forehead from the wall and blood oozing from a cut above his right ear.

  His eyelids fluttered open and he groaned.

  'Headache.'

  'Yes. It'll be all right.'

  In the distance she heard a car engine followed by the scrape and boom of the large metal door. Another dealer arriving. Reality started to seep back in.

  Slowly with shaking hands, she withdrew her radio. As the adrenaline faded, reality crept in. She was not alone. In fact she was surrounded by more emergency services than anyone else in the county. Laying Haines gently on the ground, she limped to the end of the alley to get an idea of what was going on. The whole yard was quiet and empty. It felt wrong that she'd been through hell in the alley while outside nothing had happened. She raised the radio to her mouth.

  'Man down! Officer down! We need an ambulance now to alleyway just north of the target on Brookbank Industrial Estate.' Then realising the ambulance would most likely spook the dealers in the nearby warehouse, she took up the radio again. 'DCI Haines is down. The operation is a go. Go, go, go! Now!'

  There was a pause when the whole world seemed quiet. She could hear the sobs of the two bodyguards, the rough breathing of Haines. She saw two figures leave a small side door on the target warehouse and move briskly towards the edge of the estate.

  DC Angel recognised both of them. She'd worked with Glen Hargreaves and the man with him was Pietr Garoza. His face had been all over the office as number one target for the last week.

  At first she thought Hargreaves was chasing Garoza but then she saw the body language. They were helping each other escape. Now she understood what had gone wrong with the plan. Hargreaves had no intention of taking over Haines' relationship with Billy King. Instead he had chosen to work with the Latvians.

  Then the night was torn apart with the whoop of sirens and the screaming of engines. Just as Garoza and Hargreaves disappeared from sight, vehicles streamed into the yard. Orders were shouted and like a well-oiled machine, the entry teams breached the doors. There was a screech of tyres and a crunch as two vehicles collided. A team of Border Force officers leapt across to the boat before it had a chance to cast off.

  At the moment, all the action was with the uniformed teams. The regular uniformed officers were waiting with the entry teams for the armed response to shout 'Clear!' They were already bringing out some people in handcuffs. She could see most of her team waiting to enter. She was just counting off the remaining members of CID when she felt a presence at her shoulder.

  'What's going on then?'

  She half turned and couldn't believe it when she saw the pale, ghost like figure of her boss, DCI Haines standing at her shoulder.

  She was unable to answer so he carried on speaking. 'Isn't this my operation? Why are we skulking over here? Where's Hargreaves? I should be in there leading my team.'

  He made to move forward and DC Angel held him back with a hand on his arm. 'Sir. Wait a minute. There's something you need to know.' As much as the conversation the previous evening, this was a watershed. She knew nothing would ever be the same afterwards. Still, she couldn't let him go without trying. 'I've heard on the grapevine that Professional Standards are looking into this operation.'

  'And?' He was cross and in a hurry.

  'And, if you go steaming in there you might get caught up in it all. Hang back here a minute and see what happens.'

  'I'm not a coward!' He shook off her hand. 'If my team's going down, I'm going down with them.'

  'No, sir. You're guaranteed a promotion. If you avoid all of this, think about how much good you can do for Bradwick, for the whole of Avon, Wootenshire and Somerset Police.'

  Before he could think of a response, Hargreaves came running back into the yard from an alley to their left. He was closely chased by a burly man who expertly rugby tackled him to the floor. The two men started a desperate scramble for control. With a shock, Angel saw Hargreaves knock a police baseball cap off his assailant. Haines stood stock still, one hand over his mouth.

  The rest of her team had no qualms however and ran across to help their colleague. Angel could hear the shouts as they fought. Two more people, obviously police not in uniform came to help their colleague. The CID team established a stand-off with the three intruders.

  'What the bloody hell is Hargreaves playing at?' Haines was scowling now, trying to decipher the scene. He turned to look behind. 'What happened back there? Is Billy King dead? What's going on?'

  'You went to meet with King.' DC Angel was aware she had to choose her words carefully. 'From what I saw, one of his bodyguards stabbed King in the back and the other coshed you over the head. I guess he'd have killed you too if I hadn't intervened.'

  DCI Haines shook his head. 'King's dead? And Hargreaves is fighting the police? He was always slated to take over.' There was a pause as a cloud of confusion passed over his face. 'Take over everything. Yo
u know, what I told you last night. I did tell you, didn't I?' DC Angel nodded, dumbstruck. 'Only he never liked King. I knew he'd been up to something these past few weeks.'

  While DC Angel digested this information, she marvelled at the calm with which Haines had decided that his second in command had tried to kill him. Meanwhile, in the yard, a van with unfamiliar police markings sped into sight. Uniformed officers in stab vests and batons leapt out and started trying to round up her CID team. They were shrugging off attempts to handcuff them and bristling at each other. The entry and uniformed teams stood off to one side unsure how to proceed.

  While all this was unfolding, the armed guys started bringing out more handcuffed arrestees from the building. They too paused, watching the chaos unfold in front of them.

  DC Angel suddenly understood what was going on. A chief superintendent, in full uniform with pip and crown on the epaulette stood on the sill of the van, with a loudhailer. Behind him, Michelle Jones climbed down and approached the melee, looking supremely calm and confident.

  'I am Chief Superintendent Havelock of Devon and Cornwall Police. I am the ranking officer and taking charge of this operation. All officers not in uniform will present warrant cards to my colleague.' He indicated Michelle Jones. 'They will then be processed. Anyone not in a uniform and not presenting a card will be handcuffed and arrested. Thank you for your co-operation.'

  This was too much for DCI Haines. He shook off DC Angel's hand and strode forward into the melee. He was stopped by Havelock, a large man with a walrus moustache and iron grey hair. There was a short argument where Haines tried to grab the megaphone. DC Angel heard an ambulance arrive behind her and the footsteps of an approaching paramedic.

  'Chief Inspector Haines, I order you to stand down.' The words floated across the night air. Havelock wasn't exactly shouting but his voice was clear and firm. 'I know this is your turf, as you put it, but I am here by invitation of your Professional Standards Department and I have overall command.'