by Chris Taylor
His complexion was pale, with a grayish tinge evident around his tight mouth. His demeanor had been quiet and subdued since he’d walked back through the door; his eyes were dead. He appeared to move around the station in a daze, barely going through the motions.
Lachlan had suggested quietly to his partner that he take a little more time off, but Martin hadn’t taken kindly to his advice. As far as Martin was concerned, he didn’t need time off to sit around and think about the tragic loss of his younger brother. He needed to be busy. He needed to be at work.
Lachlan could understand that sentiment. There had been many times during the deterioration of his marriage that he’d turned to work for relief. After two more therapy sessions with Ava, he could now see that kind of solution wasn’t really a solution at all. It worked in the short term and helped distract people from what was really bugging them, but in the long run, the problem was still there. It didn’t disappear or fade away from neglect. In fact, often it worked the opposite. The longer the issue remained unresolved, the bigger it became and the harder it was to deal with.
He thought of telling Martin about the therapy sessions and suggesting his partner might want to have some, too, but his thoughts were interrupted by Becker, addressing the squad of men.
“We have a situation up on Balo Street. There’s a guy holding people hostage in the supermarket. I understand he’s the estranged husband of one of the employees, but a few shoppers are also caught up in the drama. We need to get over there and see if we can defuse the situation.”
“Is he armed?” Lachlan asked.
“Yes. With a twenty-two rifle, I believe.”
“How many hostages are we talking?” Martin asked.
“Somewhere between five and ten. Most of them are employees.”
“Who’s our informant, boss?” Lachlan asked.
“A woman who was passing by. She heard a shout and screaming and looked through the plate glass window at the front of the shop. She saw a man with a gun herding people toward the back.”
Lachlan processed the information. “Do we have any back up?”
Becker nodded. “I’ve called the police negotiator’s office in Tamworth. They’re sending over a team, but it will take them the best part of three hours to get here. We have to do what we can until then.”
“Are we going to make contact with the perp?” Martin asked.
“That, we’ll play by ear,” Becker replied. “I don’t want anyone upsetting this guy before we have our elite team on the ground. Naturally, if things deteriorate to the point where the perp’s directly threatening any of the hostages, we’re going to have to do something. The goal is to keep everyone alive.”
Lachlan listened and his gut filled with the usual mix of dread and anticipation. Ava had been teaching him ways to cope with the stress of his job and he called on some of those techniques now. Breathing deeply, he leisurely counted to ten until his pulse was slow and even. The technique helped to calm him and keep him focused.
“Coleridge, how’s the shoulder?” Becker asked.
“It’s almost as good as new, boss,” Lachlan lied.
Becker nodded. “Very well, you go with Martin and see what you can find out. Talk to whoever you can find downtown. We need to know more about our perp. If we know what’s driving his behavior, we have a better chance of making him see reason.” Becker swung around to face Martin. “Are you all right with that?”
Martin nodded grimly. “Of course.”
“Good. The rest of you get down there and secure the area. Make sure no one enters that supermarket. We don’t need any more innocents stumbling onto the scene.”
Quiet nods and murmurs came from the rest of those gathered around and they began to disperse. Lachlan looked at Martin as he reached for his jacket.
“Are you sure you’re all right with this?” he asked.
Martin stared back at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Lachlan held his gaze a moment longer. Satisfied with the sincerity in his friend’s eyes, he replied. “All right then. Let’s go. We’ll talk more in the car.”
* * *
The downtown streets were busy with mid-afternoon shoppers. School was out and a mix of children and parents and other people lined the pavement. A crowd had gathered outside the supermarket and even a few stupid souls had their faces pressed against the glass shopfront, hoping to see in.
Lachlan brought the squad car to a sudden halt and he and Martin leaped from the vehicle. Another carload of officers pulled in behind them. They needed to secure the scene and enforce a ten-yard danger zone. Who knew what might happen over the minutes and hours ahead.
“Move on, people,” Lachlan ordered, striding toward the bystanders. “This area is out of bounds. You need to move right out of the way.”
“What is it? What’s happening?” a plump woman asked, tugging at Lachlan’s sleeve.
He frowned down at her. “You have to move away from here, ma’am. We have a situation inside the supermarket.”
The woman’s flushed face turned pale. “What kind of situation?”
“We’re not exactly sure, but we’re asking everyone to move away. It could be dangerous.”
The woman gasped. “But my mother’s in there! I dropped her off to buy some bread and milk and a few other necessities while I went to the post office. I’ve only been gone fifteen minutes. I need to go to her and make sure she’s all right. She doesn’t hear so well, anymore. I have to—”
Lachlan sympathized with her plight, but now wasn’t the time for leniency. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t let you in there. Now, please. Move out of the way.”
The woman looked like she was going to argue until Martin stepped closer and pinned her with a dark frown. Her words sputtered and died under his added authority. With a half-sob, she turned and disappeared into the thinning crowd.
With a sigh of relief, Lachlan flashed his partner a look of thanks and with the help of the other officers, managed to cordon off the scene with police tape. With several officers placed around the perimeter of the building keeping watch, Lachlan and Martin moved closer to the plate glass shop front and tried to peer inside.
“Do we have a phone number for the store manager, or anyone else inside?” Martin asked.
“There’s a number for home deliveries painted on the door. We could try that.”
Martin nodded in agreement and Lachlan pulled out his phone. To his surprise, the call was answered after the third ring.
“It’s Detective Lachlan Coleridge from the Moree police. Who am I talking to?”
“It’s Jill Sanders. I-I work upstairs in the office.”
Lachlan strained to hear her whispered reply. “Jill, are you able to talk?”
“Yes.”
“I understand you have a situation in there. Can you tell me what’s happening?”
“I-I’m not exactly sure. Barry Irwin stormed in about twenty minutes ago, waving a gun around and demanding to see his wife.”
“Who’s his wife?”
“Elsie Irwin. She works in the deli. Has worked here for thirteen years.”
“Who else is in the store?”
“There are six other staff members, including the two girls on the checkouts and probably half a dozen shoppers. I’m not sure of exact numbers. Some of them might be hiding in one of the other aisles.”
“Where is Barry?” Lachlan asked.
“He’s down near the deli. He has Elsie and her two co-workers holed up behind the deli counter. He’s angry, Detective, and getting angrier by the minute. A moment ago, he threatened to shoot them all.”
A sense of urgency raced through Lachlan and his mind kicked into overdrive. The situation was escalating. They couldn’t wait for the trained police negotiators to arrive. There simply wasn’t time. He turned to Martin.
“We’re going to have to try and make contact with him. His wife works in the store. She’s one of the hostages. It sounds like some kind o
f domestic dispute. We might be able to convince him to let everyone else go.”
Martin nodded, his expression grim. He touched the weapon holstered on his hip. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Lachlan frowned. “We’re going to try and end this peacefully. There isn’t any room to be a hero.”
“Okay, I get it,” Martin replied brusquely. “Let’s just get in there and see what’s going on.”
“The delicatessen’s located part-way down the store on the left hand side. We’ll go in through the back. So it will be on our right. Our guy probably won’t expect anyone to come in the back entrance,” Lachlan said.
Martin nodded and together they headed along the side of the building and into the deli through the delivery entrance. Empty pallets and crates were stacked in a haphazard pile against one wall. The rear of the shop was eerily silent. Where staff normally sorted through groceries and fresh produce, ready to be packed onto shelves, there was no one.
Quickly and quietly, they made their way through the storeroom and eased open the double doors that led into the shop. Once again, Lachlan was struck by the silence. Creeping forward, he rounded a shelf stacked high with cat food and came to a halt. A man of average height and build, sporting a receding hairline stalked back and forth in front of the delicatessen counter, waving a rifle.
Lachlan turned back to Martin, who stood a short distance away. Using hand signals, he indicated the whereabouts of their man. Martin nodded in acknowledgement and with a few more hand signals and whispers, they split up with the goal to approach the deli from opposite ends. With a deep breath and a quick and silent prayer, Lachlan stepped out from behind the shelf of cat food and showed himself to Barry Irwin.
“Stop right there! Don’t move!” the man shouted, spinning on his heel and pointing the rifle at Lachlan.
Keeping calm, Lachlan halted and raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “It’s all right, Barry. I’m Detective Coleridge. What can I do, mate? I’d like to help.”
“Help? How can you help? Can you turn back time to when my wife still loved me? To the time when she didn’t feel the need to sleep with one of my friends?” He shook his head scornfully. “You can’t help me. No one can.”
“It sounds like it’s a problem between you and your wife, Barry. How about we let these other good people go? They have nothing to do with what’s going on and besides, you don’t want them to hear your business, do you?”
Lachlan held his breath as Barry appeared to consider his suggestion and then let it out on a rush of relief when the man nodded.
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want anyone else to hear. This is between me and Elsie. She knows exactly why I’m here.” He swung back around to face the counter and narrowed his gaze at a middle-aged woman who cowered against the wall. “We’re going to sort this out here and now, Elsie. You hear me?”
His shout reverberated off the back wall and the women behind the counter jumped. “You! And you! Get out of here!” Barry ordered, pointing the gun at Elsie’s colleagues.
The women didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled to get away. Within moments, it was just Barry and Elsie and Lachlan and Martin—who Lachlan assumed stood somewhere nearby. More footsteps heard from further away disappeared down other aisles. The front doors opened and closed several times before the shop fell silent again. Lachlan turned his attention back to Barry.
“Now that it’s just us, we might be able to sort this out—but first, I want you to hand over the rifle.”
In a heartbeat, Barry’s mood changed. His eyes narrowed with menace. “The hell I will! You’re not taking my gun. I came here to put an end to the deceitful, wicked woman I married and that’s what I intend to do. Running behind my back with my best friend! That kind of behavior deserves severe punishment. Even God would agree with me on that!”
A dark red flush stained the side of Barry’s neck and his eyes were wild with anger. Lachlan forced himself to remain calm and tried to think of another way to pacify the man.
“Are you sure that she’s been unfaithful, Barry? Have you tried to talk to Elsie about it? Even if she has done what you say she has, God also preaches forgiveness. I’m not condoning adultery, but maybe she had her reasons.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Barry!” Elsie cried from behind the deli counter. “I would never cheat on you! Adam and I are friends! That’s all! You come home from work and lock yourself away in your den, drinking into the wee hours of the night. You never talk to me about your day, or ask about mine. You never share anything with me. I… I was lonely.”
She hiccupped on a sob. “Adam was there for me, Barry, when you weren’t. He listened to my trials and tribulations. He celebrated my wins. He cared about me… But, I never betrayed you. I could never do something like that! I promised in my marriage vows to be faithful to you, and I have. There’s never been anyone for me, but you. I love you, Barry! I’ll love you until I die.”
Barry stared at her, confused and angry and uncertain. Lachlan could see the war being waged inside him. Barry didn’t know whether to believe his wife. And then he came to a decision.
“No! I don’t believe you, Elsie! I saw the way you looked at him! And I saw the way he looked at you! Don’t tell me there’s nothing between you! I won’t believe it! I won’t!”
Tears of rage and pain poured down Barry’s cheeks. Elsie sobbed and held her face in her hands, as if she couldn’t bear to watch.
Barry brandished the gun wildly, his eyes crazy and unfocused. Lachlan thought fast.
“Barry, listen to me!” He kept his voice low and urgent. “What good will it do to murder your wife? Believe me, it will be murder. Provocation is no defense. The courts won’t care what she has or hasn’t done. And what about your family? Your kids?”
Lachlan had no idea if the man had children, but he was betting they probably did. Some of the craziness left Barry’s eyes and Lachlan kept going. “Why spend the next fifteen years behind bars, Barry, pacing the walls of a prison cell? If Elsie’s done wrong, she must be punished, but not by you going to jail. That achieves nothing.”
Watching the man closely, he was relieved to see that Barry appeared to take notice of what had just been said. He lowered the gun slightly and his stance became less belligerent. Lachlan swallowed a sigh of relief. But it wasn’t over, yet.
“Give me the gun, Barry. Please, let me have the gun.”
The man turned to face Lachlan and he could see the defeat in Barry’s eyes. A little more coaxing and he might just get the man to comply with his request.
“Come on, Barry. You know it’s for the best. Give me the gun.”
Out of the corner of Lachlan’s eye, he noticed Elsie inching away. She was almost to the exit door that led to the storerooms in the back when Barry caught sight of her. Spinning on his heel, he brought the rifle around and raised it once again.
The loud report of gunfire ricocheted around the room and nearly deafened Lachlan. With ears ringing, he watched blood blossom on Barry’s chest. A look of surprise flooded the man’s features a moment before he collapsed at Lachlan’s feet.
“Somebody get an ambulance!” Lachlan screamed, still trying to comprehend what had happened. He looked up as Martin came around one of the shelves, his gun hanging loose in his hand.
“What the fuck happened?” he shouted above Elsie’s terrified shrieks. “I had him. He was nearly there. Another minute or two and this would have all been over.” He shook his head, still in shock and disbelief at how quickly the situation had gone off the rails.
“What the fuck happened?” he yelled at Martin again, eyeballing his partner.
“I… I thought he was going to shoot her. I saw him lift the gun. I got off a shot before he could pull the trigger.”
“Jesus!” Lachlan gasped, aghast.
Martin had shot the man dead. Lachie had instinctively called for an ambulance, but he could tell from the way Barry stared fixedly at the ceiling that lifesaving med
ical attention would no longer be required.
Elsie’s hysterical cries of panic and pain echoed throughout the quiet of the store. Dread weighed heavy and viscous in Lachlan’s gut. He stared at Martin and all he could do was slowly shake his head.
What had his colleague been thinking? Surely he’d realized Lachlan had the situation under control? And even if he hadn’t, they’d never employed the policy of shooting first and asking questions later. That was left to stupid TV shows where the baddies confessed by the end of the program and the guy always got the girl. Real life wasn’t like that and Martin sure as hell knew it.
When the media got hold of this… The Moree police would be drawn and quartered. He and Martin would be embroiled in a lengthy internal affairs investigation. That kind of shit always happened over something like this.
As if the pair of them didn’t have enough to deal with. Martin had only just buried his little brother. Lachlan was still in the very early stages of coming to terms with his depression and learning how to deal with it. The last thing either of them needed was the stress of an internal investigation.
Lachlan sighed at the thought of the mountain of questions and paperwork that lay ahead. There was nothing to be done about it now. All they could do was keep a low profile, give them what they wanted and get on with it.
He looked across at Martin who was now pale and trembling, suffering from delayed shock. Moving closer, Lachlan rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” he murmured.
“Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.” Shrugging off Lachlan’s hand, Martin turned his back on the body that lay still and bloody on the floor and went to lean on the deli counter. A moment later, Lachlan heard a sob, followed by a howl of pain. Martin’s shoulders shook from the force of his distress.
A commotion of noise and shouting sounded from the direction of the front door. A moment later, Lachlan was surrounded by paramedics and uniformed police officers. Becker strode into view, his face contorted with shock and anger.
