While Martin was glowering at Max he had briefly turned his back on the officers and, although it was only for a split second, seeing the knife suddenly safely away from Jen’s neck, the quick-thinking sergeant took his chance, rushed forward and flattened Martin to the ground.
In the blink of an eye all four officers fell upon Martin, who continued to struggle wildly, spitting at one of the police officers. The spittle landed on the gloved hand he’d put up to shield himself. Instantly, he returned the unwanted gift by wiping it roughly across Martin’s face. Blood seeped from Martin’s nose as, kicking and shouting, he was led away towards the marked police car.
Sergeant Wheelwright stood above Jen, who, with arms wrapped comfortingly around Max’s neck, was sobbing uncontrollably. ‘Good boy,’ she said encouragingly. ‘You’re a very good boy.’
She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said, looking up at the uniformed officer who held out a hand towards her. She stood up painfully.
‘He can’t hurt you now.’
‘How did you know he was …?’
‘One of your neighbours rang three nines when she heard your screams.’
‘What’ll happen now?’ asked Jen.
‘Well, he’s been arrested for making threats to kill. But, tell me, how did a nice girl like you end up with a nutter like him?’
Jen found herself smiling weakly. ‘I don’t know. I guess I fell under his spell. Miles away from home, alone, new job … he was nice to me. He wasn’t like that when I first met him, believe me.’ Jen blushed. ‘I feel so embarrassed … I’ve only just recently started work for the police, in admin. I’ll never live this down, will I?’
The kind eyes of the officer crinkled. ‘It’ll be news for a day. Believe me, I know others who have been involved in a lot worse.’ His face turned serious. ‘Have you got somewhere else to go? It could be that he’ll get bail once he’s calmed down.’
Jen looked anxious.
‘We’ll go for a remand in custody but there’s no guarantee that’s what will happen. My advice is to pack up your things and move while we’ve got him locked up.’
‘Don’t worry, even if we need to stay in a B&B we’ll be out of here tonight.’
The sergeant’s radio sounded. ‘Negotiator, stand down.’
Jen looked at the sergeant quizzically.
‘The negotiator. He’s been told he’s no longer required to attend,’ he said, with a smile. ‘You gather some things together and I’ll come back shortly once we’ve dumped mi’laddo in a cell. I’ll need a statement from you, but I guess I know where to find you?’
Jen nodded her head. ‘Don’t worry, whatever happens I will be in work tomorrow. Will it wait until then? I can’t risk giving Avril any ammunition with which to fire me!’
‘Avril Summerfield-Preston? Beaky’s your boss?’ he said.
Jen nodded.
‘If you want some of the lowdown on that vicious cow, I’m the one to come to. Any time. Just say the word.’
Jen smiled gratefully. Perhaps the day hadn’t turned out that badly after all.
Chapter Fifteen
DI Jack Dylan sat in the Traffic car next to Traffic Police Officer Cane who had just turned off the blues and twos when, two miles away from the address provided, they’d been stood down. However, the adrenalin had already kicked in and, not now needed, made him feel slightly drunk, his eyes out of focus. He became aware of the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow.
The brief of the domestic had been sketchy, with updates given from the operator at Force Control en-route. The challenge of a life-and-death situation had taken his mind away from his own problems and given him a feeling of purpose. It had been bizarrely exciting and now, pulled up at the kerb and feeling calmer, he felt somewhat disappointed he hadn’t made it to the scene, as well as sorry for the unknown victim’s situation.
There was no reason to fear the speed at which Chris Cane had driven – he was well accustomed to getting to an emergency in the quickest possible time – but Dylan was always anxious when not in control of the vehicle. With their ever-increasing speed, adrenalin had pumped through Dylan’s veins, pedestrians had leapt out of the way, cars had slowed and pulled over and, where necessary, Chris had steered the car across to the opposite side of the road to pass vehicles, avoiding any delay.
It was Chris who finally broke the silence. ‘Back to base, boss, is it?’ he asked, glancing in Dylan’s direction as he drove away. ‘No fun travelling at speed when you’re not in control, is it?’
‘I was just thinking the same,’ Dylan said, wiping his forehead.
‘Not that bad a driver, am I?’ the Traffic officer laughed heartily.
Dylan smiled. ‘No. No misjudged corners, or unnecessary risks. I was impressed.’
‘You’re an advanced driver yourself, sir?’
Dylan nodded. ‘Last time I was in a Traffic car I was driving down the motorway at a hundred and thirty miles an hour.’
Chris pursed his lips and sucked in his breath. ‘You don’t blink at that speed, do you, sir?’
‘You certainly don’t.’
Dylan stood in the doorway of the CID’s kitchenette. Dawn was eating a sandwich. The kettle was on the boil. Tiredness showed on her face.
‘Any update from the hospital?’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘Nothing yet. I’ll be on my way shortly.’ She took a sip of coffee. ‘What’s the update on the incident? I heard the shout go out,’ she said.
‘Nothing much, other than it was a domestic between a male and female. Male, threatening female with a kitchen knife, was disarmed by uniformed officers after a violent struggle and subsequently arrested for threats to kill.’ Dylan took the steaming mug of coffee from her. ‘I guess that’s all the information I needed to know.’
‘A regular?’
Dylan shook his head. ‘No names given yet, but I’m sure it will all come out in the wash, as they say.’
Jennifer Jones stood for a moment surveying the mess in the hallway, looked one more time at Max’s doleful expression and set off up the stairs two at a time. Max bounded into action, following her. At the bedroom door she was shocked to see her clothes and possessions scattered everywhere. Some she recognised from boxes she hadn’t even opened since leaving the island. She dropped to her knees and retrieved two suitcases from under the bed. Very quickly she assessed what was important to her, what had not been broken or ripped to shreds and, in what felt like a wild panic, grabbed what she could and threw it in. She worked systematically through her drawers and the wardrobe, all the while choking out sobs.
When her suitcases were full, she grabbed a plastic bag and sought out her toiletries, throwing them on the top. She closed the first suitcase with a groan, shifted some things to the other, sat on it and struggled with the zip. After a few attempts and sweating like mad, the deed was done. She pushed the top of the second suitcase down by pressing on it with her knees and, after a few tries, she managed to secure that zip too. Looking around the room she double-checked that she had everything she was able to carry, pulled the handles out of the suitcases and stood them on their wheels. One step at a time she clumsily manoeuvred the cases down the stairs to the front door where she grabbed her bag from the floor, put on her shoes, slung her coat over her shoulder and opened the door. Max scuttled out behind her as the door closed with a thud.
There was no awkward moment when Rita came to collect her, just a hug of assurance from a friend, and Jen immediately felt safe. Rita opened her car boot and together they threw in her cases. More sobs rose up from her throat as she sat down in the passenger seat. She slammed the door.
‘Ready?’
‘Go,’ Jen barked. ‘I don’t care where to, just go!’
The house Rita had secured as Jen’s refuge was furnished. ‘Do you want me to stay the night?’ she asked when they’d settled Jen in.
Jen shook her head. ‘No, you’ve done more than en
ough. How can I ever repay you?’
‘You don’t have to. Just say you’ll stay here for a while before you decide whether to go back to the island or not. Contrary to what you may believe right now, Yorkshire folk are about the friendliest you’ll ever meet.’
‘Well, that would certainly make a change. You could live next to someone on the island all your life and still not know your neighbour.’
Rita hadn’t been gone long when there was a knock at the front door. Max barked, and Jen jumped in surprise. Who could that be? Because as far as she was aware, no one knew she was there, except Rita and her new landlord.
When the Dylans arrived at the Rehabilitation Centre at the end of the week it was raining. But Dylan was pleasantly surprised to see it wasn’t anything like he’d imagined and its pleasantness managed to push the rain into the background.
Stauer’s Hall Mansion had been built in 1788 according to the shiny gold plaque in the entrance hall. A private residence in the countryside for the mill-owning Ainsworth family, the place was surrounded by acres of parkland and contained many ancient trees. It had been converted into an asylum in 1904, been renamed The Mansion Hospital and had run independently as a hospital ever since; most recently being upgraded at huge cost to become a residential retreat for people suffering from addictions of one kind or another.
‘Apparently it’s haunted, you know,’ Isla reached up and whispered in Dylan’s ear, as they waited for someone to greet them. She reached for his hand; she was shaking.
‘Really?’ said Kay with a sigh. ‘How old are you?’ She looked at her watch, drew in a sharp breath and, finding a bell on the reception desk, hit it with the palm of her hand.
Dylan looked slightly surprised at her harsh tone and even more so at her impatience.
‘Yes, it’s actually haunted by the ghosts of the former hospital patients who, for one reason or another, never checked out.’ Isla giggled. She seemed in a carefree mood but Dylan sensed a wavering, a vulnerability on her face, a tightening of her jaw and a fear behind her smile.
Isla seemed eager to please the young, good-looking guy, whose full lips promised a hint of a smile and who advised her parents that it would be okay for them to leave. On the surface, Isla appeared keen to get started on the programme, and although the young man made it clear that it wasn’t going to be easy, he promised he’d be there for her whenever she needed him. As Dylan and Kay got ready to leave, Isla shrugged her shoulders and, with a forced smile, sat down on the bed in the small Room 8, that would be hers for the foreseeable future.
‘I guess I’ll see you in a few days then,’ she said. ‘When I’ve been assessed and they’ve decided what to do with me?’
Dylan affirmed. ‘Yes, I’ll be back from the conference by then. We’re both going to be behind the eight ball in the next few days, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, Dad, I guess so. Love you.’
‘I love you more,’ Dylan said as he bent down to kiss her cheek before following Kay out into the main corridor.
Strange faces and voices surrounded Isla, pressing in on her from all sides, searching, probing, but she could make no sense out of the reassuring words or the kindly smiles of the strangers around her.
Kay began to feel slightly panicky. She felt as if she was imprisoned with Dylan as she sat at the bar of the Armitage Arms, and yet they were only having a spot of lunch together before he left. What if she was pushed against him by the other diners, forced to feel the warmth of his body, sense the close familiarity of his skin?
The couple next to them snuggled even closer, very obviously madly in love. It took her back to the early days, when she and Dylan hadn’t been able to take their hands off one another. Then normal life had taken over. Her daughter Isla had grown up, but their own children had never come along. Dylan had moved up in the police force and Kay had become more restless as he spent longer and longer hours at work and she felt obliged to spend the same number of hours at home alone. Eventually, they’d started to drift apart.
‘If you don’t want me to go, I can still cancel,’ Dylan said, sensing her uneasiness. ‘I appreciate that I’ve only just returned from Hendon. But it’s an honour to be asked. Not everyone gets invited to attend these events, especially someone of my rank.’
Her heart was beating quickly as she looked at the clock above the bar. If she didn’t go soon, Kenny would think she wasn’t coming.
‘For God’s sake, Jack, it’s only two nights. You’re literally an hour away. If I need anything, which I won’t, I’ll call you. I can cope. I always do. Just go.’ Her hands pushed him way. Her angst was growing by the minute, but Dylan didn’t give up.
‘But, with Isla being away … I know you must be worried.’
‘Look,’ Dylan could see beads of sweat shining on her top lip. ‘Fingers crossed, this rehab will identify a way forward and Isla will be back home with us, and everything will be back to normal before we know it. I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t be either. She’s an adult. She’s made her choices. We can only do so much.’
Kay moved as quickly as she could towards the door, frantic to get away from Dylan. She needed to meet up with Kenny to tell him that this time it was well and truly over. She’d been agonising over it since their last meeting and he wouldn’t like it, she knew. But she couldn’t continue with the deceit any longer; her nerves simply couldn’t take any more. It had been fun while it had lasted but it had to end. Only then could they all try to get back to normal.
She was unable to get past the group of walkers putting on their muddy boots on the pub steps. Dylan was also held up by them, impatient as they were to get back on the moors. For a moment, Dylan and Kay were trapped together in the narrow passageway. She prayed that he wouldn’t ask her to drop him off at the train station. That would mean waiting with him at the station for his train to leave.
Finally, she reached the bottom of the steps. As she headed for the car, the cool air hit her and it was with great relief that she heard her husband’s footsteps fade away as he headed for the canal bank that she knew would take him, by foot, back to the police station. From there he’d be able to get a lift to the train station.
As she put her key in the car door, she heard someone calling her name. She turned to see Dylan running towards her. Her heart sank. ‘Haven’t we forgotten something?’ he asked. Kay automatically turned her cheek to accept a kiss, which never came. She felt slightly disappointed as he lifted the car boot and took out his overnight bag. As he walked away, she called his name. He turned.
‘Tell you what, if you let me know what time you finish in Sheffield I’ll drive over and pick you up. That way we can go and visit Isla together on the way back.’
Dylan smiled and waved. ‘Bye!’ he shouted.
Chapter Sixteen
A full briefing had just taken place in the CID office and Detective Sergeant Larry Banks, preparing to take charge while Dylan was away, had retreated to the DI’s office. He sat in his chair, finger pointing to a telephone number in his little black book and picked up the phone. He was about to put his feet up on the desk when Dawn entered the room.
‘Tut tut!’ she said. ‘You know what happened the last time Dylan caught you with your feet up on his desk. You nearly wound up two inches shorter.’ Dawn put the file she was carrying on the corner of Dylan’s desk, breaking eye contact with Larry.
‘You won’t tell?’ Larry said laughing.
‘You’re right. I’m not a snitch. But don’t you think you owe it to Dylan to be a bit more respectful?’
Larry stared at her, finding it difficult to come up with an answer.
‘Those puppy dog eyes only work on bimbos, Larry. Don’t bother wasting them on me …’
Larry’s shoulders slumped. ‘I’m putting my feet up on a piece of wood, not shagging his wife,’ he called after her retreating figure.
Minutes later Larry heard Dylan approaching and quickly whipped his feet off the desk. After speaking to Dawn, Dylan put h
is head round his office door to see Larry with one hand to his forehead, his pen hovering over a batch of papers. He looked up sharply.
‘I’m expecting a delivery, Larry. Allegedly, it’s a bullet-proof jacket. Hopefully, I’ll never have to test it. It’s part of the negotiator’s kit and it’s supposed to be here this morning, but it hasn’t arrived yet. Will you sign for it and keep it safe if it turns up?’
Larry nodded emphatically. ‘Of course, I’ll drop it off with Kay. I’d hate to think it was stuck here in the office if you needed it.’
His eyes returned to the papers requiring his immediate attention. Dylan remained with his hand on the door handle. ‘And Larry,’ he added, ‘make sure that paperwork is done by the time I get back.’
Larry groaned. ‘I think I might have a stab at this promotion lark myself. Courses, dinners, beer trips, new clothes … How you getting to Sheffield?’
‘Taking the train.’
Larry looked surprised. ‘You haven’t heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘There’s a strike started, I heard it on the news this morning.’ Larry tossed his head back in the direction of the yard. ‘Better take the fleet vehicle. I can use my own, if the others need the CID car.’
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