Ted grunted and dropped her. She crumpled and the man called Harry gathered her tightly into his arms. He stared at Ted Harper with an expression of such hatred that Danny was taken aback. He’d figured Harry for a gentle, compliant sort. Ted would have to watch it. The hostages were approaching the stage when they would act regardless of the consequences.
Ted continued to glare for a moment then he spat at Naomi’s hair. “Maybe there is some bloody justice after all,” he said, then turned on his heel and left, striding back into the main room.
Danny paused to lock the door and then ran after him and grabbed his arm. “What the hell was all that about?”
“I knew I recognised her,” Ted’s eyes were wild “I thought I’d got it wrong, but, no. It’s her.”
“It’s who?”
“The bitch that helped put me away last time,” Ted was crimson with fury, veins standing out on his forehead and throat.
“Slow it down,” Danny told him. “God, Man, she’s a blind woman. You got it wrong.”
You heard what she said!” Ted Harper was almost screaming with rage now. “She was blinded in an accident. She’s the one. Naomi Blake. There was another woman too, that night. Burst in on me when I was sorting Nan out.” He turned abruptly and grabbed the front of Danny’s shirt, his face so close, Danny could smell his breath and was forced to inhale two days’ worth of dried on sweat. “When this is over, I’m going to find that bitch and finish what I started and I’ll tell you something else for free. She’s not going to be around to stop me this time.”
“Ok, ok, whatever you say.” Danny raised his hands, signalling surrender. “I believe you.”
Ted held on for a moment longer, then let go and strode away into the staff kitchen. Danny heard water running.
He turned to Allan. “You know about this?”
“I know he nearly killed my mam,” Allan shrugged. “I was there, hiding behind the cupboard door. I remember seeing someone come in, but that’s about all. Mam seemed to blame me for it all.” He shrugged again. “I’d seen him beat up on her so many times, but that last time, I think he would have killed her and me too if he'd known I was there."
Danny was at a loss. He glanced at the main doors, tempted to just open them, walk out and leave the rest to chance. Allan followed his gaze.
“We could do it,” he said hopefully. “I figure prison’s going to be better than this anyhow.”
Danny nodded. “We’d never get the bolts off without him hearing,” he said and he’d kill them in there, you know that?”
“Not our problem,” Allan said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“Allan, don’t. Just don’t. You’re not like your dad yet, so don’t make the rest of the trip, ok. You’ve still got a chance of coming out of this human, so don’t screw it up.”
Harper had returned from the kitchen. His hair was wet and so was the front of his shirt, but he looked slightly calmer.
“She’s dead,” he told Danny, in a voice that brooked no argument. “Whatever else happens, she’s going to pay.”
***
Inside the storeroom everyone was silent. They stared at one another through the windowless gloom, to shocked to speak.
Patrick rummaged on the floor and found a soiled napkin from their last meal and used it to clean Naomi’s hair. “I hate him,” he said. His voice shook and Naomi reached for his hand. Patrick took it gratefully, moving close to Naomi and his dad and slipping an arm around her shoulders, his hand touching his dad, the three of the huddling close, bodies stiff with fear and anger.
“Use your phone,“ Harry told his son. “Tell Alec that Harper’s recognised Naomi and,” he added, listening to the argument outside in the main area,” that he’s becoming dangerously uncontrolled.”
“You’ll…you’ll have to tell me how to spell dangerously,” Patrick told him in an attempt at humour. “I always miss something out.” He paused and fished for his phone, hoping Ted Harper and his people would be too involved in their argument to hear the cheerful sound as he switched it on. He turned away from the door so the screen light wouldn’t show beneath and began to text.
“Amazes me how young people can do that so quickly,” Dorothy mused. “Patrick, tell him, we need to get out of here,” she added. “Someone has to do something and do it fast.”
CHAPTER 21
Alec was driving when he heard the sound of his phone receiving a message, then another a few minutes later. Impatient, but unable to find anywhere to pull over, he waited until he had reached Nan Harper’s a few minutes later before reading them.
“Shit!” The content of the messages almost made him turn around and head back to the incident room. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and gathered his thoughts, then called Hemmings and relayed the messages.
“Ah,” Hemmings responded. “That explains something.” He told Alec about the sudden end to their phone conversation with Danny and the anxiety it had left them with.
“We just have to hope Danny managed to calm things down,” he said, trying to reassure. “You at Nan Harper’s?”
“Yes. Look, it’s probably a wild goose chase anyway. I’ll come back.”
“You’re there now,” Hemmings told him firmly. “Get the job done that end and let us take care here.”
Alec sighed, knowing that Hemmings was right. He was at least as capable as Alec and it was a relief to know that someone was able to share the load. He knew he wasn’t handling this well. He was having trouble keeping all the facts in mind and his thoughts kept drifting to Naomi and Harry and Patrick .
He got out of his car, released Napoleon from the back and clicked his fingers to bring the dog to heel. Obediently, Napoleon trotted at his side to Nan Harper's door, but his tail was down and his head dropped. Even his coat seemed less glossy, though that, Alec reminded himself, was perhaps because no one had found time to brush him; something Naomi took seriously.
He rang Nan’s bell and fondled the dog’s ears. “I know, old man. I know. Let’s see if this lady can help us any.”
The door opened just a crack and Nan Harper peered out past the chain that held it in place.
“What now?” She asked, then frowned, puzzled when she saw the dog.
Alec held out his ID. “I know,” he said. “You’ve had all you can take from us. But I need information.” He took a deep breath “We told you we wanted you to talk to Ted.”
“Yeah, and I told you where to go.”
“No one explained why or where he was?”
“No, just that he was in trouble again. I told that reporter this morning, I didn’t even know he was out.”
Alec nodded. “Nan, he’s holed up in a bank in Ingham and he’s got seven hostages. One of them owns this old boy, here and she’s very special to me, so I’m not asking you as a policeman I’m asking you as a fellow human being, do you have any idea who his associates might be or where we can find anyone that might have seen him since his release?”
She said nothing, just continued to peer at him through the crack in the door.
“Please, Nan. You may think you know nothing, but…right now anything you could tell us would be better than what we’ve got.”
“You on your own? “She asked. “I reckoned you lot normally travelled in pairs.” She sighed again. “God, I suppose if I don’t talk you’ll not leave me alone. “ She closed the door and released the chain. “You’d better come in. You’ll be getting me a reputation worse than the one I’ve got.”
Alec and Napoleon followed her through to the second living room. The kitchen door leading from that was open and she went through and filled the kettle. “Dog want a drink?” she asked.
“Thanks, he’d appreciate that.”
She found a plastic bowl and filled it with water, put it on the floor and called to him. “Come on then. Don’t have any food for you I’m afraid. You’ll have to nag him for that.”
Napoleon looked at Alec to see if it was alright to go, receivi
ng confirmation, he went to the bowl and drank thirstily. "Poor old thing, “Nan said. “He was parched.” She stood, watching him while the kettle boiled, then dumped two tea bags into mugs and poured water on them. “Milk and sugar?”
“Thanks. Two.”
“You look knackered,” she told him frankly, setting the mugs down on a tiled coffee table of the sort Alec remembered from the seventies. Maybe they were making a comeback, or maybe this was just a relic of times past.
“I don’t know anything,” Nan told him. “He got carted off to prison. I made a new life. I didn’t even manage to hang onto my son.”
“What happened to Allan?”
Nan laughed harshly. “Ted did, I suppose and I didn’t have enough sticking plaster to make it better. When Ted got sent down, it was all I could do to get through the day. If I managed to get dressed before mid-afternoon I was doing well. Depression, they reckoned. I was in and out of hospital having the broken bits fixed up and Allan was shunted from pillar to post. No one wanted him, not really. He was Ted’s son and in some ways he was a lot like him. He’d fly into rages and I couldn’t do a thing with him. Got himself suspended from school so often they finally chucked him out. In the end I had social services take care of him. Nothing I could do any more.”
She told the story in such a flat, emotionless tone that Alec guessed she’d told it many times before. Had it down pat, not because she didn’t care, but because she’d been defeated by it. Sticking to the story, keeping in the groove, made it easier to bear.
“We think Allan may be with Ted,” Alec told her softly.
“Oh Christ,” she closed her eyes. “Stupid little fool.” She blinked rapidly and Alec wondered if she’d start to cry. “I heard he’d been thieving. Joy riding. Heard he’d got caught too. I thought, best thing for him. Lock him up and teach him a lesson before he gets in any deeper.”
“When did you last see your son?”
“I last saw Allan a couple of years back. He’d called in to see his gran and I was there. We spoke, but we didn’t say anything. You know.” She drew a deep breath. “Allan stopped being my son a lot of years ago.”
Alec fished the tea bag from his tea and, following Nan’s example, dumped it in a glass ashtray lying on the table. He stirred the sugar and then lay the spoon on top of the tea bag. “Most of Ted’s associates have moved on. Any you know of that we might have missed?”
“How would I know. It’s been years.”
“Years in which Ted hasn’t changed. There’s no reason to expect his friends will have either.”
She leaned back in the armchair and thought about it. The room was too small for a proper three piece and to Alec’s mind, was back to front, the dining table being in the front reception, furthest from the kitchen whereas Nan clearly used this as her main living room. Two chairs from a cottage suite faced the television and a wooden armed sofa from the same suite had been set against the wall. They were upholstered in a mocke tapestry fabric decorated with small sprigs of flowers and out of keeping with either the coffee table or the large and modern television. The room, though clean and tidy, looked as though it had been furnished with charity shop finds, bought because they happened to be cheap and available rather than because Nan liked the look. Life, he thought, had not been kind to any of the Harper family.
Nan reeled off a list of names, and Alec noted them down. Most they’d already checked. A depressing number were either in jail or on probation or had absconded from same. Two, however, were new. Ian Hendrickson and Steve McGuire. Nan didn’t know exactly where either lived or even if they were still around, though she thought McGuire had family in Ingham.
“Thank you,” Alec told her.
She shrugged. “Don’t think it’ll help you. She frowned. “My mam said something about one of the McGuire kids. Reckoned he was with Allan when he stole that car. The one he was caught for.”
Alec nodded. That probably meant McGuire senior was still around and with the rough address she had given him, there’d be something to cross reference.
He rose to go and Napoleon joined him, leaning against his leg the way he did with Naomi.
“I hope you get them all out,” Nan said.
“So do I.” He hesitated, not sure he should be laying this on an already over- burdened woman. “Naomi was one of the officers that arrested Ted the night he attacked you,” he said
Nan’s hand flew to her face, she touched the scars at the side of her mouth and stared at him in horror. “He recognises her, she’s a dead woman,” she told Alec in a whisper. “Ted never forgets and he never forgives.”
CHAPTER 22
Alec notified Hemmings of the results of his chat with Nan. And asked for conformation of address from the voters register. Hemmings promised to get it to him before he arrived back in Ingham and Alec connected the hands free kit.
“Don’t forget,” Hemmings reminded him, “the Parker’s are due on the evening news.”
Alec groaned. “I’ll not be back in time anyway, He said. “Tape it and fill me in when I get back. Any more from Danny?”
“No,” Hemmings told him. “Nothing. We’re waiting until after the news broadcast then going to try again. You should be here by then?”
“I hope so. Look, arrange some back up for me from uniform, just in case. Nan reckoned McGuire was a regular driver back then. Could be he’s still playing the same game.”
Hemmings told him he’d arrange things and Alec drove off towards Ingham. Nan's final words revolved in his brain and he could not shake the feeling of despair.
***
Inside the bank Allan was wondering if and when they’d be sent food and urging Danny to make contact and find out. Danny was paying him little attention, his head still full of others things. He reran the earlier conversations with Sarah over and over and had come to one conclusion. They knew Ted Harper was the main man.
It had been a tiny slip on Sarah’s part and she’d covered it quickly. But she’s said to Danny, “He’s not worth it” as though she knew who “he” was.
It might be that he was jumping to completely the wrong conclusion, but Danny didn’t think so. And when Ted Harper wandered over to check the window, Danny told him so. He could have predicted the response.
“That bitch. She sold me out again.”
“What bitch? Naomi Blake? “
“No, that frigging wife of mine.”
“Nan?” Danny laughed. “Come off it Ted, you’d had no contact with her in years. Even supposing she’d heard about the bank raid, why would she suspect it was you?" He thought about it. “It could have been Naomi,” he mused. “Told one of the hostages we released and they told the police."
“We should have kept the lot of them,” Ted stormed at him. “You and your bloody concessions.”
“Oh, leave off, Ted. What was the good of keeping the kids? They’d have caused us more problems than they were worth. We’ve got enough with what we’ve got.”
“Yeah, well maybe I should reduce the numbers a bit more. By one.”
Danny sighed. “Ted, I told you, leave over.” He produced the phone. “Allan reckons he’s hungry. Let’s get us some food, huh?”
“They might have found Steve,” Allen said. “He’d not spoken in a while and the other two turned to look at him. “Steve McGuire, they might have picked him up. He’d grass us up, no time at all.”
Danny was nodding. “It’s possible,” he agreed. “Not that it makes much difference.” He added gloomily. “They’ll put it together one way or another and it doesn’t help us either way.”
***
Alec was at the address Nan had given for Steve McGuire when the message came through from Hemmings that she’d been three houses out. “Hold off, until I’ve got you some backup,” he instructed Alec.
In the background to Hemmings call, Alec could hear the television and Mrs Parker’s voice. “How bad is it?” he asked.
“Bad enough. I’ve already had Superintendent Bl
ick on the other line. Not a happy bunny.”
Alec was about to retort that he’d never known Blick to be anything but a miserable sod, when a patrol car crept around the corner of the street and parked up behind him. “You lot’s just arrived,” he said. “Napoleon. Stay. Good dog.” The black tail beat the car door with only a modicum of enthusiasm and the large dark eyes that peered over the back of the seat were heart wrenchingly mournful. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Alec told him. “Don’t you start, please. You’ll set me off.”
The officers were not local and he guessed they were from Hemming’s division. Right now, he didn’t care. He directed them round the back way into McGuire’s place, aware that they were already getting too much attention from the locals. Kids playing football in the street, stopped to stare and across the way a woman had come to stand on her doorstep to watch. She was soon joined by her neighbour. Alec began to wish he had more than two men. He knocked loudly on the McGuire door.
“You want me dad he’s not here,” a voice shouted from an upstairs window.
“Where is he then? You know that?” Alec looked up at a child who was probably about thirteen, though the amount of makeup made it hard to tell. “Is your mother home?”
The child shrugged. She ducked her head back inside. “Mam?” she yelled at the top of her voice. There appeared to be no reply because when she peered out again it was to inform Alec that, “she ain’t in.”
“Gov, he’s doing a runner,” the shout came over the radio and had Alec bolting for the rear of the property. The child watched with only a modicum of interest. Running down between the houses he could see a figure scrambling over a rear garden gate and an officer following a second later. The second, keeping commentary, advised that he was cutting down an alleyway and out onto the next street. They didn’t know the area, Alec thought. They might lose him yet. He turned left past where the man and officer had gone and ran to the end of the row, shouting instructions to the second man as he did so. The garden McGuire had entered was the last in the row. If it kept true to the usual pattern it would have a short stretch of land running at the side of the house. The only way through. McGuire would know that, the second officer would not and would now be entering the street too far along to be of use.
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