by GB Williams
Lucy Burton. Kid.
Dominic Carlisle. At least Lucy couldn’t say that he was a Detective Sergeant.
As Lucy quivered over the last name, tears burst forth again. She let go of the phone and Megan had to catch it before it fell to the floor.
15
Piper heard the girl crying, an odd noise, a movement or two, then the line went dead. He looked at the list he’d scrawled. Wymark had the same list in a much neater hand. Carefully, he put the phone down and re-wrote the names, before he turned to face the open door. Sheldrake and Broughton had followed him out to the van, and Andrews was sitting by his side, silent as normal. Piper tore the second copy off the pad and passed it to Broughton. The older man nodded and disappeared from sight.
‘Why,’ Sheldrake asked softly, ‘would they give us the hostages’ names?’
Piper shrugged. ‘I suspect that they want us to see the hostages as humans, not just collateral. To make it harder for us to forget that lives are at stake.’
‘Humanisation,’ Sheldrake murmured. ‘They’re using our own tactics against us.’
Again all Piper could do was wait.
‘Is this Bell’s doing?’ Andrews asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Piper admitted. ‘It’s possible, but that doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Charlie would do.’
‘And while vilifying Bell would be easy,’ Sheldrake pointed out, ‘we can’t discount the intelligence of the other men in there. It may have been someone else’s idea. We’ll have to check Wymark’s transcripts, see what was said.’
Piper looked at her, Sheldrake might know bugger all about policing, but, apparently, she knew enough about people. When she turned her eyes up to him, there was an accusation in them.
‘After all, as far as we can tell, Bell isn’t even in there.’
‘Bell isn’t in there,’ Piper affirmed as Broughton reappeared. ‘Ari stated she didn’t know any of the gang.’
‘Family Liaison are working on the list,’ Broughton confirmed, looking at Piper. ‘I don’t think that there’s any doubt Ariadne Teddington would know Bell if he was in there, even if they were wearing masks, she’d recognise his voice. And they’re not wearing masks. Besides, Bell’s height makes him rather distinctive, there’s no disguise going to hide that.’
‘There’s one man in there who’s tall,’ Sheldrake pointed out. ‘I believe Hickson said he was the one closest to the door.’
‘Yeah,’ Piper agreed, ‘he’s also the one we have the clearest image of, and the one closest to Teddington.’
‘If that were Bell, she’d know,’ Broughton reasoned.
Not necessarily. Piper thought about it. She won’t have seen Charlie for months. She was under a lot of pressure and probably more concentrated on the guy that keeps attacking her. On the other hand, she was intelligent, capable and observant. Piper really didn’t know what to make of it.
‘What do you think that means for Bell?’
Piper considered Broughton’s question. While Bell had to be recognised as their informant, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be tried along with the rest of the gang. However, right now, no one believed Charlie Bell was in that bank.
What if Charlie isn’t in there?
Piper swallowed. ‘All I know for certain right now is that information he supplied was good. We are at the right bank at the right time. Whatever’s going on now wasn’t known to our informant. As for Charlie, all I can tell you is that he’s not at home, he’s not at work and he’s not answering his phone. As far as I know, he’s not in there either.’ He tilted his head towards the bank. ‘In other words, it doesn’t look good and I’m worried about him.’ And that was what was making his heart thump and his stomach acid rise. ‘Anyone got an indigestion tablet?’ Somehow, he wasn’t surprised when Andrews silently reached into one of the many pouches on his vest and passed across half a packet of Rennie.
‘How “not good” do you think this could be for him?’
Piper looked up at Broughton, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words as he started to chew the tablet and passed the packet back to Andrews. The seriousness of the silence said everything Piper couldn’t.
‘But if he’s not here, and he’s not at any of the places that you’ve looked,’ Sheldrake began quietly, ‘let’s assume he’s alive, for now. Where would he be and what could he be up to?’
For a moment Piper met her regard and thought about it. It wasn’t a happy prospect. He dragged in a breath. ‘Right now, there’s no way of knowing, but if he is alive,’ Piper muttered through clenched teeth, ‘next time I see him, I just might kill him. Excuse me.’ The last was said as he moved from the van and headed for the hairdresser’s.
16
Lucy was crying again.
Teddington wondered if there was anything she could do. But she’d already told the kid she did well on the phone and she should be proud of herself. It hadn’t done any good and now she was worried about doing something to make Lucy worse. She was overly aware of Mr Pink pacing again at the front of the bank, back and forth, back and forth. There was a new and unwelcome background noise—Mr Pink tapping his guns against his legs. Teddington suspected he’d be glaring if she looked up at him, so she relaxed her mandible and pushed out the sense of irritation. Hoping she’d reached some sense of calm, she glanced up at Lucy.
If that kid didn’t stop grizzling soon, she could really cause some trouble. Teddington felt the frown forming on her forehead. She must have been watching for a while, as Megan looked up and saw her.
‘She needs the loo,’ Megan whispered as her daughter squirmed on her lap.
‘She’s not the only one,’ Judy added.
‘Tough,’ Mr White snapped. ‘You’ll all have to wait until the police get us our van, and we get out of here.’
Teddington looked up at the man. Did he have any idea what the reality of the situation was? That prompted her to check out her own new reality. Now on a chair, she had a different perspective. She still couldn’t see a thing outside, but at least the blurs were in a slightly different alignment. She could see various high-viz blobs. They would be the local police; any SWAT team members would be in black to reduce visibility. There was one big white block, presumably the Transit van Mr Pink had mentioned earlier. The probable police van.
Do you know any of the gang holding you?
Her head echoed the question. Why would Piper ask her that? It could be because she was a prison officer and bank robberies were rarely first offences. It was a logical progression and therefore a logical connection. Only it wasn’t like she’d been in a position to have told him anything over the phone. There was also a good chance that these people were local, another reason she might know them. She was glad it was Piper out there. Knowing he was involved gave her some assurance. It’s Piper out there. Her eye line moved down. And Carlisle in here.
‘Shit.’
She hadn’t meant to say anything out loud, but the whispered word caught Carlisle’s attention. His head turned to her, tipping more than usual so he could see under his cap peak.
‘What’s wrong?’
Her heart was hammering again. Maybe her brain was misfiring.
‘Ari?’ He reached up and took her hand.
Couldn’t be. Could it? ‘Cliff Richard hit just ear wormed me.’
‘What?’ Carlisle looked truly confused.
‘I like small speakers,’ she said almost without moving her lips, ‘I like tall—’
His wide eyes and tiny shake told her he got it. Told her she was right. He not only recognised a song that was probably older than them both—she only knew if because her mother had been a fan—he was almost definitely Wired for Sound.
Shit.
‘Mr White?’
Teddington turned to the sound of the voice—everyone in the room did. Mr Brown glanced momentarily at her, but focused on Mr White. ‘If the hostages are feeling the need to go to the toilet, maybe we should take them—one at a time
of course—because we don’t want it getting messy or smelly in here.’
‘I don’t want us spread too thin,’ White grated in response.
‘We could get Mr Blue or Mr Orange to come back through,’ Mr Brown suggested.
‘Treating us right,’ Teddington risked, ‘will go in your favour, not only now, but later, if by some chance any of you do face charges.’
Two guns came up, straight at her head, she’d forgotten how quickly Mr Pink could move if he needed to. She was squeezing Carlisle’s hand now, too tight, she could see him grimacing, but she could only focus on the guns pointed at her.
‘We are not going to get caught.’
‘Okay.’ She didn’t like how her voice cracked, but she couldn’t help it.
‘We won’t!’
The manic gleam in his over-bright weaselly eyes scared Teddington. He was a loose cannon, he could do anything.
Brown moved. ‘I’ll—’
‘You’ll stay put.’ Mr White stopped Mr Brown with the aim of his gun.
Teddington watched Mr Brown rest back on his heels, though relaxed was about the last thing he looked. His body was tense, like elastic ready to snap at any moment. This wasn’t good.
Lucy was still fidgeting.
Teddington jumped as Mr Blue slammed back into the room from the staff-only area. He obviously saw her reaction, as his smile was little short of lascivious. She felt her skin crawl and hugged her jacket around her. Mr Blue put another now full bag on the pile before he moved over to whisper with Mr White. She saw something exchange hands, but she couldn’t make out what. Then Mr Blue was frowning, his volume increased.
‘But—’
‘I said now,’ Mr White cut off whatever Mr Blue’s objection was. ‘Start with the kid.’
Teddington watched Mr Blue’s lips compress, his scowl toward the girl was full of disgust. His footfalls were stompy as he rounded the rail and moved towards Lucy. When he leaned over and grabbed her, she screamed. Lucy’s arms were so tight around her mother’s neck, Megan was in danger of having her head pulled off as Mr Blue yanked her daughter away. She was dragged to her knees before the chair.
‘Be gentle!’
Teddington got side-swiped. The near punch knocked her to one side as Mr Blue continued to pull at the girl. Suddenly it felt like the world stopped. Teddington turned her head back to see Mr Blue and Megan staring at each other, his gun at her temple.
‘Lucy,’ Teddington used that school ma’am tone she hated. ‘Let go of your mother right now or she’s going to die.’
Everyone in the bank was as stunned by her words as they were by Mr Blue’s actions. Was the whole world holding its breath?
Trembling and quaking, Lucy let her arms slide from her mother and stood up. Even the sobbing was finally over, though Teddington saw big fat tears rolling down the girl’s face. Megan sat back in slow motion, her face the aged reflection of her daughter’s.
‘Please don’t hurt her.’
The whispered phrase was repeated over and over again as Mr Blue stood straighter. For a second he turned his gun to the daughter’s head. Even Lucy didn’t react this time. Then it felt like the pair just vanished. Teddington sat staring at the space where Mr Blue and Lucy had stood, it was empty now, but she didn’t remember them moving. Megan was still pleading and all Teddington could register was the sting in her cheek where Mr Blue had hit her. Was she going to get out of here alive? Were any of them?
Carlisle was nudging her. Numbly she looked at him, not understanding as he indicated to her phone. Realisation was another slap in the face as her ears finally registered the ringing.
She answered the call. ‘Hello?’
‘Ari? You okay?’
‘Loudspeaker.’
Teddington looked up at Mr White. She had to compute what he was saying. ‘Oh.’ She lowered the phone and switched it to loudspeaker.
‘Ari?’ The disembodied voice repeated. ‘What’s wrong, what’s going on?’
Teddington dragged in a breath and blinked, desperately trying to find a spot of calm inside her. ‘Matt, sorry. I… I…’ she shook her head. ‘I’m sorry Matt, what did you want?’
‘I wanted to let you know that Family Liaison are dealing with the families of all the hostages you named.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Quid pro quo, Ari. I still want that face-to-face.’
Teddington looked up at Mr White. He shook his head. ‘Mr White says no.’
She could hear Piper’s deep breath even over the phone. ‘Then let me make this clear. No face-to-face, no van.’
Still watching the unmoved and unmoving Mr White, Teddington felt the ache in her cheek and the unshed tears burning behind her eyes. ‘Please Matt, don’t do this to me.’
But Matt didn’t answer, and Mr White wasn’t about to agree. Afraid her fear was going to overtake her. Teddington spoke as quickly as she could.
‘I’ll get back to you.’
17
Piper kept the disconnected phone to his ear. Teddington was in trouble. She was losing her grip, fear clearly eating away at her. How was he supposed to just stand here and do nothing when he knew as well as Teddington that the chances of her surviving this were rapidly slipping away?
‘While they’re in the bank, they’re contained,’ Sheldrake reiterated.
Ten minutes later and Piper was grinding his teeth, the acid in his stomach bubbling like a potion in a cauldron. He, Andrews, Broughton and Sheldrake were huddled together in the corner of the hairdresser’s again. Other officers buzzed around, some taking a break, some working on the phones, running liaison.
‘We’ve got two chase cars ready and waiting to follow a van that has a tracker on it,’ Piper said. ‘Effectively, they’ll still be contained.’
‘And don’t forget my men are in place to stop them dead in their tracks,’ Andrews added.
‘No one dies on my watch.’
Piper was half surprised Andrews didn’t curl up and die just from the withering look Sheldrake shot at him.
‘We cannot,’ she barked, sounding more like she was addressing a political rally than a cluster of seasoned police officers, ‘risk the lives of more innocent civilians. We open fire and they’ll open fire, and right now—as you keep reminding me—Ariadne Teddington is the one they have their guns pointed at. Or are you prepared to pull the trigger on her yourself?’
Mr Blue had returned with Lucy, the little girl looking sullen and pale. When she moved to race to her mother, Mr Blue pulled her up short. Literally. He grabbed her by the upper arm. Lifting her shoulder wasn’t enough for him, she was stretched up, all at odd angles trying to keep away from him while virtually on her tiptoes. She was wide-eyed as she looked to her mother, but Mr Blue raised his arm and pointed his gun directly at Megan.
‘You next.’
Teddington watched as Megan stood shakily. Mr Blue’s gun sent Megan to his right. Only then did he shove Lucy roughly forward. The little girl veered, heading towards her mother. Surprising Teddington with his speed, Carlisle was on his feet, snatching Lucy, pulling her to him. The girl screamed. Megan looked round, terror in her eyes, but Mr Blue pushed her on. Carlisle was leaning over, holding Lucy to him, whispering, clearly soothing her. When Carlisle knelt, Lucy knelt with him. Holding him.
Watching from her seat, Teddington felt oddly jealous of the little girl. Everyone needed comfort. She remembered another time, when she’d been held captive, though it was more by the weight of Charlie Bell’s arm around her than the handcuff attaching her to the bed. Turning her head away, she tried to push Charlie from her mind, but the images were caught in her head. Even without the images, there were the sounds, the smells, the feel. How many times had she woken in the night and imagined Charlie spooned behind her, his body hot against hers? She remembered the soft sound of his breathing, the occasional huff that wasn’t quite a snore. The smell of his skin, warmth and musk—manly. That one night burned more strongly in her memory than the
five years of her broken marriage. She shouldn’t want any man this much, but as the rest of the hostages were taken one by one to the toilets, she fought to get her own emotions back under control.
Mr White had moved over toward Mr Brown. They were closer to her now than where Mr Brown usually stood. Mr White said nothing to start with, but passed something to Mr Brown. Teddington caught just enough of a glimpse to realise it was a watch. Mr Brown displayed no emotion. He barely even glanced at it before slipping it into his jeans pocket.
‘Why would they want to meet face-to-face?’ Mr White asked at last.
She watched Mr Brown shrug.
‘No idea. It’s not standard operating procedure.’
‘Can you speculate?’
Mr Brown filled his lungs and looked outside. ‘Not really.’ He turned back to Mr White, but his eye line was caught by the TV. ‘Maybe it was her idea.’ He indicated to the screen, which was showing a picture of the Police and Crime Commissioner. She looked very serious, but very calm, trustworthy. This was her campaign picture. ‘I’ve no idea how she’d think.’
Mr White took a second to look behind him. He saw Teddington watching them, but other than give a small scowl he did nothing before turning back to Mr Brown. ‘Do you think they’re getting a van?’
Doubt it. Teddington kept her thoughts to herself, and continued to listen.
‘Probably, but that will likely take time.’
‘Why?’
‘Paperwork and official sanction.’
‘What will speed them up?’
Doing what they asked, you moron.
Apparently Mr Brown had to think about it. ‘I don’t really know,’ he said, meeting Mr White’s eye. ‘Siege situations were never my province. Most negotiations are about humanising the whole situation. The authorities want you to see them as human, not the enemy. Same with the hostages. They want us to see them as real people rather than poker chips. Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe that’s what he wants, to be more than a voice on the phone. Maybe you should, you know, go face-to-face with this Matt bloke. Probably the best way to find out what he’s up to.’
