Clearly anticipating yet another routine enquiry from Jack regarding the fruitless search for Burke, he cheerily asked, ‘Hello there Jack, I’m afraid there’s nothing much happening at this end. How are things with you?’
‘Things are absolutely shit with me, Andy. Burke’s just snatched Annie from Rossbank Park. I’m sending you a picture that he took on her phone, which tells you everything you need to know.’
Sensing the urgency and fear in Jack’s voice, Andy replied, ‘Bloody hell, how did it happen?’
‘I knew that your guys couldn’t keep up the surveillance effort on Burke indefinitely, so we decided to install remote CCTV cameras to cover the entrance doors to my office and both of our flats. Sure enough we discovered that the bastard is still lurking around, intent on mischief, so I came up with a plan to try and lure him out into the open. Long story short, I was supposed to be the bait in a trap and Annie was on lookout duty, ready to phone you the minute he showed up. Unfortunately Burke hadn’t read the script. He seems to have had a plan of his own, and his one worked out a lot better than mine.’
‘Look, Jack, now’s not the time for a steward’s inquiry about what went wrong. If you have any idea what type of vehicle he was driving when he took her, I can get a quick search done on all the traffic cameras in the area, to see if we can spot him.’
‘No, I don’t. That’s the problem. But I might know where he’s taken her. It’s just a theory, but it’s all we’ve got for now. My gut feeling is that we maybe have a window of two or three hours, tops, to get to him. After that, all bets are off. So I really need you to pull out all the stops on this one, Andy. It’s got to be the absolute full press. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yes, of course. Where do you think he’s taken her?’
‘Don’t ask me to waste time explaining, Andy, but I think he’s probably staying on a caravan site somewhere on the outskirts of Glasgow. I’ve just done a Google search and there seem to be four possible locations within a half-hour drive of the city centre. But the problem is, I don’t know which one he might be using. So we obviously need to get them all checked out ASAP.’
‘I actually know a bit about these sites, Jack, because a couple of years ago I had to go round them all, when we had a spate of copper cable thefts from railway overhead power lines. So you’re right, there are only four sites locally that are licensed by the local council. Oh, and there is another one, Mossdyke I think it’s called, out by Robroyston. If I remember correctly, it was a kind of scruffy unofficial site which was mainly used by Irish traveller families on a seasonal basis. It did turn out to be the place where the stolen cable was being burnt to strip off the protective cover, but as usual we were too late to catch the bastards. The last I heard, the local council was starting enforcement action to try and close the place down.’
‘Give me the address for the Mossdyke site.’
‘Look Jack, just let us handle this, will you,’ cautioned Andy. ‘We already know this guy Burke is completely crazy and I think it’s safe to assume that he’ll be armed as well. He’s killed before and having just finished an eighteen year stretch, my guess is that the chances of us taking him alive are slim to zero. I don’t want you or anybody else getting hurt, so this is definitely a job for the heavy mob. Let our SWAT team guys earn their money for a change. They’ve got the body armour, machine pistols, the overtime claim forms and all the rest of the kit they need to do a search job like this safely.’
‘But this all takes time to organise and pull together, Andy, you know that as well as I do. And time’s what we don’t have right now. I know the SWAT guys are good but they’re trained to do everything by the book, if they find out that we’ve got a hostage situation. They’ll want to secure the perimeter, set up a command post and call in an experienced hostage negotiator to establish a line of communication with the abductor. Then there’s the ambulance crews, the fire brigade and a police chopper crew who all have to be briefed and put on standby, to cover every contingency. And remember, there are at least five locations to check out, so all this will take a couple of hours, best case scenario. I’ve just got a real bad feeling, Andy, that we might not have a couple of hours. I feel so responsible for what’s happened, please let me do this.’
Andy Welch hesitated before answering, ‘Fair enough then, Jack, but this is so much against my better judgement. The Mossdyke site is off Robroyston Road, as you head north out of the city, towards Lenzie. It’s about a quarter of a mile past Greendykes golf club, on the left hand side. If I remember correctly, there’s a boarded up petrol station just opposite the site entrance, which isn’t signposted. But remember what I said, if you even suspect that Burke might be holed up somewhere on that site, promise me that you’ll do absolutely nothing but pull back and phone me right away, okay?’
As Andy was speaking, Jack had quickly accessed Google maps on Annie’s MacBook to pinpoint the location of the Mossdyke site and then said, ‘Right, I’ve got it. I reckon I can get out there in about fifteen minutes. I’ll scope it out and let you know if the cavalry are needed. Honestly, I’m not going to do anything stupid, Andy. But if I did get hurt, well it’s totally down to me.’
‘Okay then, Jack, I’ve just come out of an area commander’s meeting here at HQ, so I’m pretty sure that most of the guys who were attending will still be in the building. I’ll try and get them all back together in the Incident Room and bring them up to speed on what’s happened, so we can organise search teams to check out the other four sites.’
Chapter 48
Lying in the darkness of a car boot, Annie fought back the tears that were suddenly welling up and made a solemn promise to herself that, if she could, if there was any way to somehow get through this ordeal, she would survive and beat this bastard, Thomas Burke. At the same time she was all too aware that she merely had a supporting role in the deadly end game between Jack and Burke, which was being played to a rapid conclusion. Her life meant absolutely nothing to the stone cold killer and he would end it in a heartbeat, when she was of no further use to him. However, simply giving up was not an option and she forced herself to believe that at some point in the next few hours, or days, there would be an opportunity to try and escape. A brief window of opportunity, maybe just a moment, when Burke would relax, or tire, and then drop his guard. Annie prayed that if … no, when that moment came, she would still have the strength and courage to seize her chance.
Fifteen minutes after regaining consciousness, she was aware of Burke’s car gradually slowing down, then making a turn off the main road and bumping along some kind of unmade, potholed road. She sensed that her journey would soon be over and, with decidedly limited options, resolved to pretend to be limp and unconscious.
Two minutes later the car stopped and the engine was turned off, before the release catch clicked open and a welcome rush of cool fresh air filled the car boot. Burke stepped back as he lifted the boot lid, at the same time tenderly exploring the extent of the damage to his nose, as if he half expected his prisoner to spring from the boot like an avenging jack in the box. He shook her roughly, but Annie did not respond, forcing her body to remain limp. Burke then checked the side of her neck for a pulse and, satisfied that she was still alive, he wasted no further time and unceremoniously hauled her from the boot. He propped her up against the side of the car before lifting her easily up onto his shoulder, in a fireman’s lift, and then carried her the short distance to a caravan.
Chapter 49
After driving for almost twenty minutes Jack was beginning to panic, thinking he had somehow missed the turn-off for the Mossdyke site, when his headlights picked out a disused petrol station up ahead on the right hand side of the road, just as Andy had described. He swung the Land Rover onto a weed strewn forecourt and then parked behind the derelict main building, before killing the lights.
The night sky was dry and clear, with a new moon rising, which gave good visibility as Jack crossed the road. The entrance to the site was barr
ed by a galvanised, farm style gate, which was secured by a large rusty padlock and chain. He climbed over the gate and cautiously made his way along a track through scrubland, leading into the Mossdyke site.
Slung over his shoulder was Annie’s backpack, containing all the kit necessary for a good night out in Glasgow. This included a balaclava, a knife, his trusty brass knuckleduster, night-vision binoculars, a crowbar, several screwdrivers, a wire coat hanger, a torch and an old Ruger 9mm pistol, which he had taken from the home of a drug gang enforcer many years before, on one of the last high-profile raids he had participated in as a policeman. In fact it was so long ago that he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d held onto the gun, instead of bagging it for evidence and handing it in. It had just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. For the last twelve years it had been wrapped up in an oily rag and hidden it away under a loose floorboard in his office, and forgotten about … until tonight. He basically didn’t like guns and although he had once completed a firearms training course, way back in the mists of time, he had never wanted to carry, far less fire, a weapon during his eighteen years of service with the police.
It was Jack’s firm belief that firearms were a necessary evil, but that bad things often happen when people carry guns. The ante is always upped and scrawny little neds, or petty criminals, can suddenly feel like superheroes when they have a gun in their hand. Even experienced, highly trained cops can sometimes get caught up in a moment of high drama and make a split second judgement call to open fire. A decision that might end a life and ruin a career. And, inevitably, in the cold light of day all the armchair experts, with the benefit of hindsight, will dissect and twist what had seemed at the time to be a perfectly clear cut, righteous shooting into something quite different, when months, or even years later, a death comes under the scrutiny of the courts and sections of the media with an unforgiving, liberal agenda. So there are never any winners when a gun is fired, with deadly intent. Everyone loses one way or another, apart from the lawyers, of course.
Jack had never even test fired the weapon he was carrying, but it was loaded and appeared to be still capable of firing. Although how can you be sure, until the time comes to sight down the barrel at someone and then squeeze the trigger? But at least he felt better having it with him and the old adage, to never bring a knife to a gunfight, came to mind.
He now realised exactly why he had kept the pistol, it was for a night just like tonight when evil had to be confronted and stopped by any means necessary. Sometimes the end does justify the means, and just as he had lied all those years ago to ensure that Thomas Burke was taken off the streets of Glasgow, tonight he was prepared to do whatever it took, to prise Annie back from his clutches.
On the drive out to Mossdyke Jack had stopped, on impulse, at a supermarket petrol station, to make a final addition to his kit list. He purchased and then filled a five litre plastic petrol can, which he now carried in his left hand. Fight fire with fire, another old adage with more than a grain of truth to it.
No signs of life were evident as he cautiously made his way along the rough winding track, further into the Mossdyke site. He stopped briefly outside the first building he came to, a small detached chalet type building, which had probably served as an office for a warden or caretaker at one time, but was now empty and derelict.
He was momentarily startled when a dog suddenly began to bark, but Jack decided that the sound was a long way off and not connected to his presence on the site. Probably just a farm dog catching the scent of a fox. Moving further into the site he paused behind a large tree and took out his night-vision binoculars to scan across a rubbish strewn semi-circular grassed area, which was bounded by seven or eight static caravans. All of the statics appeared to have been badly vandalised, with entrance doors kicked in, their contents strewn over the ground adjacent and curtains flapping through broken windows. The site basically appeared to have been abandoned some time ago, with absolutely no evidence hinting at occupation in the recent past. As he panned further round the site with the binoculars, his heart rate increased briefly when he saw the silhouettes of three cars in the foreground, maybe fifty yards away, but closer scrutiny revealed that they were just stripped out shells, which hadn’t moved in years.
This was so disappointing, thought Jack. Mossdyke appeared to be just an abandoned derelict site, with no residents never mind a gas store, which gave the lie to his theory regarding Burke’s purchase of Calor gas bottles. As Andy Welch had suggested, it certainly looked like the local council had been successful in closing the place down.
He moved forward to a viewpoint which was closer to the static caravans and immediately felt a surge of adrenalin as the night vision binoculars picked up the faintest glow of light coming from a boarded up window on the furthest away caravan, which had been partially screened from his previous position. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things and looked again. Intensified by the night vision lenses, there was definitely a light on. Someone was inside the caravan, the question was who?
This was exactly the situation that Andy Welch had foreseen, when he had earlier warned Jack to immediately pull back to a safe position and then phone for the heavy mob, to come and carry out a full search of the site. But he ignored that advice and instead took the Ruger pistol out of the backpack, clicked the safety catch to “off” and then slowly made his way between the trashed statics, heading in the direction of the light source. Carefully picking his way across the rubbish strewn ground, he closed in on his target.
Chapter 50
Despite her head bouncing up and down against Burke’s shoulder, as she was being carried, Annie forced herself to take in every detail of her surroundings in the fading evening light. Burke appeared to have brought her to some kind of scruffy, rundown campsite, which still had seven or eight old static caravans dotted around amidst many more empty plots where units had previously been sited. An area of open ground used for car parking was scarred black in several places, by the remains of large bonfires. Several rusting scrap cars, which might have been dismantled for spare parts, also disfigured the area.
Burke appeared to be completely unconcerned that anyone else living on the site might see him with a woman wrapped up in duct tape casually slung over his shoulder. Annie’s heart sank further at the thought that there might be no one else living in any of the adjacent caravans at present. So there was no point in screaming … just yet.
Burke sat her down at the foot of a small flight of rough wooden steps, which gave access to his caravan, before unlocking the entrance door and switching on an interior light. All the caravan windows appeared to have been roughly boarded over with off-cuts of plywood and curtains had been pulled tightly shut to further screen the interior. He carried Annie inside and dumped her down without ceremony on an old settee. She continued to feign unconsciousness, for the moment, and flopped over on her side. Burke then left the room and she could hear the sound of him peeing noisily into a toilet bowl, before flushing. Finally, water draining from a wash hand basin could be heard as he washed his hands. Annie thought to herself, good hand hygiene is so important in a serial killer, to prevent the potential spread of infection between victims.
While he was out of the room, she had a chance to take stock of her surroundings. She was lying in a U-shaped lounge area of the caravan, whose interior décor and furnishings were so old and outdated as to be almost back in fashion once again. Despite this, her first impression was that at least this part of the interior was clean and tidy, with no mysterious stains on the furnishings and no nasty smells either. Of course, there could be a fully equipped torture chamber, with dissection table, somewhere through the back. She quickly rebuked herself. Don’t allow yourself to think that kind of crap right now, Annie. Don’t get ahead of yourself, just stay right here in the moment and try not to let your imagination run riot. Easy to say, but much harder to do, when your life is hanging in the balance.
She speculated that the old
caravan was the kind of place an older relative might own and, if it was re-located to somewhere nice at the seaside, it would be great for weekends away or cheap family holidays. All things considered, I’d probably give it a two and a half, maybe three, star review on Trip Advisor. That’s if they have a little-known sub-section for cheap and cheerful crash pads, ideal for use by kidnappers. Ah, I see what you just did there, Annie. You’re starting to think kidnap, not murder. That’s good, keep that thought going. Be positive. Because, if you’ve been kidnapped, well, there’s maybe an outside chance of getting out of this horrible mess alive.
She resolved that it was time to be awake when Burke came back into the room, and to try and find out if there was any possibility of engaging with him on some level. What was it that Jack kept trying to drum into her about improvising, when you are in a tight situation with the odds stacked against you? Although, he probably didn’t have a situation exactly like this one in mind. Annie thought to herself, if I’m going to stand any chance of getting out of here alive, I somehow need to connect with this guy and not just be seen a piece of meat, that he uses and then discards.
The more she thought about it, she became convinced that the way she interacted with Burke would have a bearing on her chances of survival, or the manner of her death. Trying to play mind games with him was the only thing left that she had any vestige of control over. He would, of course, expect her to be terrified, tearful and totally compliant, which is exactly how she did feel right now. However, instinctively, she reasoned that hiding her true feelings was the right thing to do. But, on the other hand, she didn’t want to come across as too aggressive or confrontational, because that would surely not end well with a man like Thomas Burke.
Fire in the Blood Page 21
