Patrick felt numb and lost. He couldn’t get his brain to work properly. He couldn’t get out of his head that he should be revising for his exams and he kept having to remind himself that they were long past and he was just waiting for the results.
Was his father all right? What about Naomi? Did his mother and his other family in Florida know what was going on? He could imagine his step dad and brothers wanting to come right over and storm the building. His mum would probably be too busy sunbathing.
He should have phoned them last night. He called them every Tuesday and they spoke to him again on Thursday. They would wonder why he hadn’t called.
He wanted so badly to go home to Mari and while he didn’t in any way blame Alec for not taking him, he now felt so bereft and alone he could hardly bear it. He almost wished he were back with his father, leaving on that bus.
Would he see any of them again? Mari would know. Mari would be able to tell him. His grandmother’s house was only a mile away. Maybe not that far. He thought he could remember how to get there.
Everyone seemed busy and no one took any notice as Patrick made his way downstairs with Napoleon in tow. The back door was unlocked and Patrick slipped through. In a moment of surprise when his feet burned against the hot paving he remembered that he was without his boots. Then he decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t that far and he just wanted to get home. At least get to Mari.
Wrapping his blanket around him, oblivious to the heat of the afternoon, Patrick set off down the road. Napoleon trotting obediently at his side.
***
Alec had reached the village of East Rydon. It was some five miles off the dual carriageway situated on a broad area of flat land that had once upon a time been marsh. Deep dykes bore witness to its past, but unlike most fen-land that was given over to massive fields and mono-cultures, East Rydon and its environs still boasted small farms and copses of native trees.
The airfield could be seen from the road leading into the village, though it lay on the other side and Alec wondered what the locals must be thinking when they saw a battered old minibus, with its windows patched with corrugated card and advertising slogans escorted by four police outriders.
He drove through East Rydon and a half mile on up the road, followed their escort through the gates and onto the airfield.
The ground here was absolutely flat. Scarcely a thicket to interrupt the monotony of long grass, broken only by the grey concrete of two runways running parallel to one another in front of an octagonal control tower.
The tower itself was painted white, with its angles and corners picked out in a faded green. It looked almost art deco in its shape and style and Alec thought of Agatha Christie on television. The tower was central to a wider building. Flat roofed, with what looked like observation platforms fenced on top and ladders leading upward, clamped to the white walls. It extended backward in two, surprisingly large wings with their own separate entrances. The one they passed had “Conference Facilities” emblazoned proudly above the door and a bicycle propped against the steps.
Aside from the bike there was no sign of life anywhere.
Three single-engined planes sat on the tarmac to the side of the building and Alec spied others on the far side of the field. One somewhat larger, with twin engines, was already on the runway. The pilot in the cockpit turned to look at the mini bus as it pulled up where Alec had been instructed to stop in front of the control tower.
Ted Harper had other ideas.
“I never said stop here.”
“You never said anywhere.”
“Don’t be smart. Pull right up to the plane.”
“I told you, you can’t take everyone on board.”
“I don’t need everyone. Do what I told you.”
Sighing, Alec started the engine again and drove out onto the runway
CHAPTER 30
Hemmings returned to the incident room. He’d sent officers to bring in Nan Harper, threatening her with arrest for obstruction if need be. If anyone had an idea where Ted Harper might want to go, she was his best bet.
“Any news from the airfield. Has Alec arrived yet?”
Alec was at that moment just entering the village of East Ryton
“The control tower says there’s storm front moving in. If they don’t take off soon and keep ahead of it, they’ll be grounded until it’s passed over”
Hemmings glanced out of the window. The first heavy drops of rain had begun to fall as he’d crossed the street. Now the clouds were thickening rapidly, darkening in a way that threatened more.
DCI Travers came pounding up the stairs. “Well?”
“Alec’s almost at the airfield.”
“Good, everyone’s in position that end. I’ve got men coming in from the other way to block the entrance once they’re on site. The pilot is briefed and armed.”
“Is that wise?”
“Not my decision. Travers said. “We’ve borrowed him from divisional HQ. He’s been on standby as you know, since early today. They insisted he be armed. He’s ex RAF apparently, now a DI.”
“It might be academic if the weather doesn’t change again,” Hemmings told him. “The tower warns of a storm front, looks like we’re picking up the start of it now.”
“Well, the building’s been locked down, We don’t want another siege situation developing.” He frowned anxiously. “Alec’s a good man, but I’d sooner he wasn’t involved in this.”
“Sir, they’re on the airfield now. The escort has pulled back as instructed and the second team are moving into position.”
“Second team?” Hemmings asked.
“Blocking the gate and watching the perimeter. If they make a run for it across the fields, there are armed officers already in place with orders to try and bring them in without violence, but if they shoot first, the response is at their discretion. It’s too big an area to deal any other way.”
Hemmings nodded. Sarah had been listening. “I know this isn’t relevant,” she said, “But I promised Danny Mayo I’d pass his message on. He reckons Allan isn’t a player in this. He’s just out to impress his dad. Take the father out and Allan will put his gun down.”
“Noted,” Travers told her,” but those decisions have to be made by officers on the ground. There’s nothing I can do.”
Sarah nodded solemnly. “We’re all packed up, sir,” she told Travers. “If you’ll release us, we’ll be heading back to base to be debriefed.”
Travers shook her hand, then turned to Sam. “You did a good job,” he said.
Sam shrugged. “Maybe, it isn’t the resolution I’d have wished for. You’ll be getting our report in due course, I’ll leave you to judge from that if we could have done things differently.”
“Do you think you could?” Travers asked.
“Always,” Sam told him. “In my choice of scenario, no one ever winds up dead.”
***
They had just departed when PC Andrews arrived looking for Patrick. He explained his errand to Hemmings and then told Dick Travers that he’d borrowed the hotel conference room.
“I’ll send you the bloody bill,” Travers told him.
“Well, I shall have to have a whip round then,” Andrews retorted.
“No, but it’s sound thinking to get them in one place. Events caught us on the hop this morning. It doesn’t look good when the families are left out of the loop. Play it as you think fit.”
Andrews nodded, acknowledging the trust of his superior officer. “Where is the boy?” he asked.
Hemmings was puzzled. “Asleep? Have a look in the back rooms. Poor bugger was knackered enough to drop off anywhere”
A brief search informed them that Patrick was nowhere to be found.
“He’s got the dog with him,” Hemmings presumed. “He’d nothing on his feet. Where the hell would he go? My fault,” he acknowledged. “He was in a hell of a state and when Alec went off, it must have been the final straw.”
“His grandmother is s
taying with friends.” Andrews said. “I’ll get her and we’ll go and find him. A barefoot kid and a black dog should be easy enough to spot.” He glanced out of the window. In the minutes since he’d arrived the clouds had begun to shed their load of rain. It fell against the windows in a heavy curtain blurring the view of the street and making the bank across the road impossible to see. “He’s going to get bloody soaked, “Andrews said.
Fifteen miles away, Alec drove out onto the runway and halted the minibus beside the plane.
CHAPTER 31
Nan Harper was not a happy woman. She was slightly relieved to have been brought to the incident room and not the police station, but she was still determined to give Hemmings a piece of her mind. So far, he was letting her rant and taking very little notice.
Finally when the worst of the rage had passed, he sat down opposite her and steepled his fingers in front of him on the table. Hemmings came straight to the point.
“Your ex has six hostages plus one of my colleagues in a mini bus and has demanded to be driven to where he can be put on a plane. Now, we’re all hoping he won’t get that far. That we can put a stop to this before he gets in the air, but, if he does manage to take things that far, where would he want to know.”
“How the hell would I know? I’ve not seen the bastard in years.”
“Nan, I know this is uncomfortable. I know your knowledge of Ted is likely out of date, but we don’t have anyone else to ask,”
“What about those names I gave that other one?”
“Steve McGuire is in custody. He copped to driving the getaway car but he’s admitting to nothing more. Frankly, I don’t think Ted regarded him as a confidant.”
Nan snorted. “Confidant! That’s a word Ted never knew the meaning of. He didn’t go in for friendship.”
“Yet, you married him. There must have been something.”
“There was a baby on the way. That’s what there was.”
“But you had a relationship with Ted. You must have had for there to be a baby.”
She looked at Hemmings as though he were stupid. “I never said it were his,” she advised him. “Look, the dad was a married man. Ted seemed ok. I’d been around with him. He didn’t know about the other fella, he’d have killed him if he had. I knew he could be difficult. Violent, even, but he was never like that with me. Not ‘til after.”
“After you were married?”
She nodded. “Then, as far as he was concerned, he owned me. I so much as looked at another man and I got a pasting for it.”
“And he had family?”
She shrugged. “He had a brother come to the wedding. He lived in Ireland somewhere. Seemed a nice chap. I knew when I met him I’d chosen the wrong one, but it was a bit late by then.”
“Ireland. North or South?”
She frowned, thinking. “County Clare. Like the girl’s name. Wherever that is.”
Hemmings nodded. “He have a name, this brother?”
“Ted called him Jimmy. I suppose it must have been James. He wanted us to visit but we never did.”
“You have an address for him?”
She shook her head. “It was years ago. Why would I keep in touch?”
“Anyone else you can think of? We’ve been on to his prison governor. He had visits from his son and his probation officer. Refused to see the prison visitors. No one else.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Ted wasn’t a man for friends. I told you that. When I first met him he hung around with a gang of lads, all a bit wild. Rode bikes too fast, one or two that stole cars or lifted stuff from the off license. They’ve all straightened themselves out. Got families, jobs, all the stuff I wished Ted would do.”
“Did he ever talk about wanting to live somewhere else?”
She shrugged again. “Spain, mebbe. Had this thing about all the top men living in Spain. You think he’ll want flying out there?”
“It’s not the place it used to be, Nan. We could still extradite him from there.”
She laughed. “You think he’ll know that? Lived in the past, Ted did. Some time that never existed if you ask me.”
Hemmings thought about it. The plane would have to refuel two, maybe three times if it had to go that far. No, this was a no go. He didn’t believe that Ted had the foggiest notion of where he wanted to be. He was just in love with the idea of escaping custody. A dramatic aerial escape. Once in the air he’d probably be asking the pilot where he thought they should be headed. Eire was a better bet. A remote airfield somewhere and a fast car. Even so, he’d be easy to track. They’d have a helicopter on standby…but this didn’t solve the problem of the hostage he might take with him or the pilot he might well see as an adequate substitute.
No, Hemmings decided. They had to end it now, at the airfield. He glanced out of the window at the broken weather. At the airfield; in the pouring rain.
***
Simon and his photographer had arrived at the airfield only five minutes or so after the minibus. They could see activity at the gate as they approached the village but it was only as they rounded the final bend that they realised just how many police vehicles had been assembled.
A police officer waved them down.
“What’s going on,” Simon asked.
“Can I ask where you’re headed?”
Bobby Rowe, the photographer leaned forward. “Millfield,” he said. “The army base up the road. Back from leave.”
The officer eyed them suspiciously and Simon cringed inwardly. He might just about pass for a returning recruit, but Bob Had hair hanging past his shoulders.
The officer came to a decision and waved them on. “Keep on going,” he said. “If I see you here again, I’ll pull you on suspicion.”
“Suspicion of what?” Simon questioned.
“Impersonating an army officer. That do you?”
He had a point, Simon thought as he drove on. “What kind of pathetic excuse was that?”
“Didn’t notice you come up with anything?”
“I would have done,” Simon protested. He glanced sideways towards the airfield catching tantalising glimpses through the hedge of the plane on the runway and the minibus beside.
“Keep going round the next bend,” Bobby told him. “ You see that copse over there. Pull onto the verge and we’ll work our way back. It comes out behind the second runway.”
“How come you know so much?”
“There’s a fishing lake just up from the woods. I bring my kid brother sometimes. Carp the size of German Shepherds.”
“You ever catch any? What would you do with a fish that size anyway? Not that I believe in fish that size,” Simon added, concluding that he was having the Micky taken.
“I kid you not! Nah, they’re wily old brutes, but it’s fun trying and if I did, I’d just have me picture taken with it and lower it back in, gently. Very gently.”
“That’s assuming it hadn’t taken your arm off first. This the place?”
A track ran down at the side of the wood, disappearing into the heart of it as far as Simon could see. He pulled his car as far onto the verge as he could without sliding into the ditch.
“Looks like rain on the way.”
Simon looked back the way they had come. The sky was black and moiling cloud was racing towards them. “Oh” he groaned, “this just gets better“
***
Patrick was lost. Quite how he could get lost in so short a distance, he couldn’t understand but he was lost all the same.
He stood in the middle of a street that looked the same as the last three streets he’d stood in the middle of and turned slowly around, trying to get his bearings.
The rain soaked his hair and it hung down over his face. He tried to flick it out of his eyes, finally bringing one hand from beneath the cover of the blanket for long enough to push it away.
Napoleon whined. He hated being wet – unless it was the fully submerged and swimming kind of wet- and worse still, he could sense Patrick’s distress an
d did not know what to do about it.
Patrick bent and stroked him. He should ask someone where to go, he thought, but on that front, his options seemed few. People had hurried in out of the rain and those he had approached had looked at him as though he’d dropped from another world and scurried away.
He looked down at the rain puddling around his feet as though suddenly aware that they were soaking wet and also very sore. The pavement had worn his socks through.
“This way,” he decided. “I think it’s this way.” He began to move again.
***
Travers had taken over from Andrews, freeing him up to look for Patrick. He called in when Travers had just reached the hotel, to say that he was with Mari and they were setting out to find the boy. He asked for news. Travers had none to give him. The last he’d heard. The minibus had pulled onto the runway beside the plane and remained there, doors closed as though those inside could not decide what to do.
“By the way,” Travers asked him before going through into the conference room. “Did we ever find anyone for the brigadier?”
“No,” Andrews told him. “We tried but there seems to be no family and as for friends…It’s not right, is it gov.”
“No,” Travers agreed. It wasn’t right.
***
Alec was unsure what was happening. Ted Harper had been sitting motionless for the past fifteen minutes. He’d said nothing and he’d ignored his son’s questions. Alec had almost begun to wonder if he’d fallen asleep.
“You could end this now,” he said softly. “It doesn’t have to go any further than this, Ted. Show you’re the man and give it best.”
“Start the engine,” Ted Harper told him. “I want this wreck turned around so that the exit is next to the plane. Do it.”
He jabbed the shotgun into the back of Alec’s head to reinforce his last words, just in case Alec should fail to comply.
Alec started the engine and manoeuvred the minibus slowly into position. It took him several, frustrating minutes. Either, he decided, he was losing his touch or the vehicle had the turning circle of an over-laden freighter. Finally though, he was in a position that Ted Harper approved.
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