by P. F. Ford
Meanwhile, the milkman had chosen to take the clockwise route around the green. He only had one call to make on this estate. It was at number 20. As he cruised around the green, he noticed two vehicles pulled up near where he was going to stop. The drivers appeared to be having a chat.
It’s amazing how many people do that these days, he thought. Just stop for a chat, blocking the road. Selfish buggers. Now I’m going to have to reverse out when I’ve finished.
Leaving his engine running, he stopped as close to number 20 as he could, right behind the tatty-looking transit van blocking the road. He grabbed two pints of milk from the back and walked off to make his delivery. No milk today, said the note. The milkman plodded back to his van and climbed inside. He reached forward to make a note in his book that number 20 had had no milk today.
PC Murray had given up trying to argue with the dustcart driver. The man was an arsehole. It was just going to be quicker in the end if he backed up and let the dustcart through. Barely suppressing his anger, he jumped back into his van, pushed in the clutch and slammed the van into reverse gear. There was a satisfying crunch from the gearbox. He let the clutch out and put his foot down.
The police van leapt backwards, straight into the milk van. There was a crash and crunch of broken tail lights.
The milkman had taken his handbrake off and was about to set off for his next delivery, when his van was shunted back a few yards. He yanked the brake on now and jumped out. He ran towards the van that had just reversed into him.
‘Hoy! You stupid tit!’ he yelled at the driver. In frustration he banged hard on the side of the police van. Twice.
Inside the van, eight sweaty, heavily-armed police officers in body armour had just been thrown in a heap on the floor. They didn’t know what had happened to dump them on the floor, but now they heard the sound they had all been waiting for. Two thumps on the side of the van meant it was time to go.
Slater had a grandstand view as the eight armed officers swarmed from the van. The milkman flung his hands up in the air and screamed. PC Murray tumbled from the front seat, trying to shoo the armed officers back into the van, but it was too late. They were off, heading towards the nearest house, automatic weapons poised ready.
Then they seemed to hesitate and they stopped in front of the house, peering at the number on the front, and then at each other.
Upstairs at the window, Slater hung his head. It was a complete debacle.
‘All that’s missing is the bloody Benny Hill music,’ he said.
It was Biddeford who made Slater tear himself away from the unfolding fiasco.
‘Bloody hell, Sarge!’ he said. ‘You’d better take a look at this.’
What?’ he said, swinging the binoculars back towards number 38.
‘Walking down the road, heading towards number thirty-eight.’
Slater swung the binoculars past number 38 and on down the road until he saw the figure. He could see quite clearly that it was a woman. She was wearing jeans, a light coat, and a headscarf. Wherever she was headed, there was something about the way she walked which made him feel she had a definite purpose in mind. She was almost close enough for him to make out her face. He quickly adjusted the focus to be sure, but he already knew who it was.
‘Sophia Ingliss!’
‘What the hell’s she doing here?’ asked Biddeford.
‘We’re just about to find out,’ said Slater, as he watched the figure slow down. She was checking the numbers. She was at number 40 now. Surely she wasn’t going to go to the house? Had Alfie misjudged her? Had he misjudged her? But why else would she be here?
She seemed to come to a decision and moved forward with renewed purpose. As she walked, she put her hands into her pockets, and for the first time Slater noticed the bulge where her right hand pocket was. Suddenly his blood seemed to turn to ice. Jones had told him to follow his hunches, and this was a hunch he couldn’t ignore. But surely there wasn’t enough time…
‘Quick,’ he said, tearing the binoculars from around his neck. ‘Call Jones and tell him to get here now.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Over there,’ said Slater, pointing through the window.
Chapter Twenty-One
Slater ran down the stairs, threw open the front door, and ran as fast as he could. He vaulted the small wall at the end of the front garden, tore across the verge, and stumbled over the road. Then he was on the green, still galloping as fast as he could. As he ran he chanted to himself over and over ‘please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong.’
Across the green, he could see Sophia hesitate momentarily and then march down the path to number 38. There was no front door as such, it was on the side of the house. Still running flat out, Slater could see her knocking on the door. In the distance, he could hear the sound of sirens approaching. But they were all going to be too late if anyone answered that door.
He was beginning to flag and slow down, but he kept his legs pumping, gulping in huge amounts of air. He was still watching Sophia. His mind had gone into overdrive and now he considered another scenario. Maybe there was another reason for her being here? Had Jones been right? Was she in league with Slick Tony? How would he break that news to Alfie? Please don’t be in league with him. Please don’t.
The sirens were getting nearer, but he knew they wouldn’t get there in time. He’d promised to keep her safe. What if she got hurt, or worse? How would he explain that to Alfie? He tried to summon up some more energy from somewhere, some more speed. He was getting closer, but now he was really struggling.
Up ahead he saw Sophia take a step back. Had someone opened the door? Then a man stepped out. He was at least a foot taller than her, and his intent was clear. He lunged for her. It looked as if she was in big trouble. Please don’t hurt her, just wait until I get there and you can fight someone your own size. Then she took her right hand from her pocket. Oh no! Not the gun…
And then something completely unexpected happened, and it happened so fast, Slater wasn’t sure exactly what he’d seen. Instead of the sound of the gunshot he was expecting, there was a blur of movement and suddenly the man was reeling backwards, clutching his left arm. Now Sophia was going after him. Another blur of quick movements and he was down on the ground clutching his testicles.
Slater slowed down as he crossed the road to reach the gate to number 38. Behind him in the road, the first of the backup vehicles arrived. DI Jones jumped from the car as it skidded to a halt.
‘Sophia Ingliss,’ he called, as he ran past Slater. ‘Stay where you are. Don’t move. Keep your hands where I can see them.’
Sophia did as she was told.
It’s not her hands you need to worry about, mate, thought Slater, as he leaned against the wall of the house, hands on his knees, desperately trying to reinflate his lungs. The sound of pounding boots was getting nearer. The assault team, alerted by the arrival of the backup vehicles, had finally found the right house.
Better late than never. He heaved himself upright and started towards DI Jones, who was instructing two police officers to arrest the figure curled up in a ball clutching his testicles, and then directing the rest of the assault team into the house. Jones turned to him as he approached and pointed at the man on the ground.
‘Who the hell’s he?’
‘I have no idea, sir,’ said Slater. ‘Ms Ingliss knocked on the door and he answered it. When he saw her, he attacked her. I saw the whole thing. It just happens she knows a bit more about self-defence than he does.’
‘So where’s Slick Tony? If that woman’s allowed him to escape, she’s going to be in big trouble. I told you she was in league with him.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said Slater. ‘But if he’s not in that house he didn’t come out this way. And, as for being in league with him, I have to tell you that’s just a crock of shite. If she’s in league with him, then so am I.’
‘Don’t worry, Sergeant, that possibility has crossed my mind. The way you
’ve handled this whole operation I have to consider the possibility that you’re either incompetent, or you made sure it went pear-shaped.’
‘The way I’ve handled it?’ said an incredulous Slater. ‘You’re supposed to be the bloody expert. Don’t think you can just dump it all on me.’
Jones glared at him, and began to turn purple. Slater thought he was about to explode, and he was pretty sure that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from punching DI Jimmy ‘Pass the Buck’ Jones on the nose.
‘Get her out of here, Sergeant,’ Jones growled, finally. ‘I want her interviewed now. And when you’ve done that, you can wait for me at the station. This whole operation has turned into a bloody fiasco and I’m holding you responsible.’
Now it was Slater’s turn to turn purple. So this was how it was going to be. Jones was going to use him as a scapegoat to save his own face. The temptation to flatten him was almost too much to resist, and Slater knew he could take him easily, but he stood his ground, silently fighting to control himself. Thumping Jones would only make it even easier for him to cause trouble.
As they stood glaring at each other, a head appeared from the front door.
‘All clear, sir. No one in the house!’
‘This is all your fault,’ Jones said, his voice hard. ‘Get out of my sight. Now!’
‘Right away. Sir,’ said Slater through gritted teeth. He knew there was a huge bollocking coming his way, but at least he could get Sophia out of the station before Jones got back.
An embarrassed Sophia stood to one side watching the exchange. Slater turned to her.
‘Would you come this way, Miss?’ He smiled at her.
She nodded her head and walked with him.. As they walked, his phone pinged in his pocket.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, ‘I’d better just check this.’
‘Of course,’ she said, smiling at him.
He looked at his phone and read the short text message. Then he looked at the one he had ignored earlier. He passed the phone over to Sophia.
‘You’d better read that.’
She read the text and handed the phone back.
‘I have it for self-defence,’ she said quietly. ‘I have a licence for it.’
They kept walking. All the while Slater was thinking, hard.
‘But you didn’t use it, did you?’ he said. ‘And no one else saw it?’
‘No, it’s still in my pocket.’
‘Okay,’ he decided. ‘I think we can sort that out. Now, do you know who sent this text, because it’s not a number I recognise.’
‘My niece, Jelena.’
‘Here,’ he said, handing her the phone. ‘You’d better give her a call and let her and Alfie know you’re alright. They must be worried about you.’
He waited while she made the call, and then when she finished, she told him what had happened to them. He smiled. And then he began to laugh, and as he laughed, it seemed to ease the tension within her and she started laughing too. It was only as they were getting into his car that he finally stopped laughing and spoke.
‘We’d better go and rescue them,’ he said, ‘and then on the way back to the station we’re going to stop at your place. When we get there you’re going to go inside and empty your pockets. Then we’ll go and get your statement sorted out.’
‘But I don’t want to get you into trouble,’ she said.
He gave her a grim smile. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ he said. ‘It looks like I’m already in about as much trouble as I could possibly be. It would be really hard to make it much worse. And anyway, they won’t worry about what they don’t know about. Right?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
We had been locked in the back of the van for hours now. It had been parked in such a way that we couldn’t see anything outside, and in the interior darkness it was getting uncomfortably hot. The only good thing about the whole situation so far had been the brief call from Sophia telling us she was safe and with Dave Slater.
Apart from that, we had no idea what had happened, what was happening now, or what was going to happen next, so the sound of doors being unlocked and opened was as unexpected as it was welcome. As the door swung open, early morning light shone in our faces. I put my hands up to shield my face, and then I heard the sound of laughter. And I recognised the voice. It was Dave Slater.
‘Well, well. Look what we have here,’ he said, laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ I asked indignantly.
‘Where shall I start?’ He paused momentarily for effect. ‘You’ve missed all the fun. While you two have been sat on the naughty step here, that lady of yours has been battering the crap out of some bloke back at the hideaway.’
‘Is she alright? I mean really?’ Suddenly this seemed to be all that mattered.
‘Yeah, really, she’s fine. And I have to tell you she’s damned good. Took on a guy twice her size and absolutely slaughtered him.’
He stopped briefly to relive the moment before continuing.
‘And you got nicked peeping over a fence. I thought you were supposed to be good at this stuff.’ He began to laugh again.
‘Look,’ I said, wearily, ‘technically it was Jelena looking over the fence not me. And if all you’ve come to do is gloat, you can just clear off again.’
Jelena hadn’t said a word since the doors had been opened, but she’d obviously had enough of being locked in the van with me.
‘No!’ she yelled in alarm. ‘Don’t send away. Get us out.’
‘Actually,’ said Slater, obviously enjoying my discomfort enormously, ‘I’m not here to gloat. Well, not specifically anyway. Let’s just say being able to gloat is like an added bonus.’ He laughed again. ‘What I’m really here for is to rescue you. The nice sergeant has agreed to hand you over to me.’
‘Thank goodness,’ said Jelena, sighing.
‘That’s very decent of him,’ I agreed.
‘I hate to disappoint you, but decency has nothing to do with it. He just doesn’t want to have to do the paperwork when he gets back. Anyway, come on, let’s get going.’
He very gallantly took Jelena’s arm to help her out of the van. She immediately had his full attention, and he carefully led her off to his car, leaving me to climb down from the van on my own. Now there’s a surprise…
He had parked as close as he could, but even so, we had a fair walk before we got to it. From my position bringing up the rear, I thought Slater was paying just a tad more attention to Jelena than was really necessary, but then she was a very attractive young lady, and after being shut in the back of a cold, dark van for a couple of hours with an old fart like me, she probably deserved a little care and attention.
As we neared the car, the passenger door suddenly burst open and Sophia rushed towards us. She didn’t stop running until she was in my arms, holding me so tight I could hardly breathe. As I held her close I could feel her sobbing against me. We stayed like that for what seemed like an age, but was probably no more than a few seconds. I had a head full of questions, but I figured they could wait for now.
‘Hey, come on,’ I said, stroking her hair. ‘Hush now. It’s over. We’re safe.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I should never have let you get involved in this.’
I tilted her head up and looked into her eyes.
‘I think you’ll find I chose to be involved in this. Don’t you see? I want to be involved with every “this” in your life.’ Then as an afterthought, I added, ‘If you want me to be involved, of course.’
She looked at me for a long moment before she spoke.
‘I’ve realised something over the last couple of days,’ she explained. ‘Maybe it had to take something like this to open my eyes. All this time you’ve been so patient with me, and I’ve been frightened to make any sort of commitment. But then something came along that threatened to come between us, and I knew straight away that I couldn’t allow that to happen. I think that tells us both what we need to know, d
on’t you?’
She reached up so our lips could meet.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘We’d better go. We owe Dave Slater a big thank-you and he needs to get on quickly.’
As we walked over to his car, the driver’s window wound smoothly down and his face appeared.
‘I think you two had better sit in the back.’
As he started the car we slid into the back seats, Sophia clutching my hand as if she was frightened I might run away at any moment. Five minutes later, we pulled up outside our flats and Slater turned to Sophia.
‘Okay,’ he said quietly. ‘You know what you have to do?’
She nodded, opened the door and slid out.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, confused.
‘It’s alright,’ said Sophia, ‘I’ll just be a moment.’ Then she closed the door and was gone.
‘Dave?’ I asked. Now I had a head full of even more questions.
‘Do you remember Billy Bumble?’ he said turning to me.
‘What’s that got to do with this?’
‘Remember that story you made up about what happened that night? And remember how you told me it was all I was going to get?’
‘Yeah, but-’
‘I’m not going to insult your intelligence by telling you a load of lies. I’m sure Sophia will explain it to you in a day or two, but for now, especially as we’re going to the police station, I’m asking you to trust me. I know what I’m doing, and right now, that’s all you’re going to get. Alright?’
He was right. We hadn’t actually told that many lies that night, it was more a case of not exactly telling him everything, but the principle was the same. And I did trust him. After all, he was one of the good guys.
Sophia was back in the car and we were headed off to the station. As we drove, Slater explained what he was going to do when we got there. Jelena and I were to be released without further action. In fact, he was going to forget all about us. Sophia was to be interviewed, but very quickly. He explained to her that all she had to do was tell him she had gone to the house to talk to her ex-husband, but he wasn’t there. The other guy had attacked her and she had defended herself.
