Grabbing the arm holding him with both hands to ease the grip on his throat, he dropped down in a lunge, putting all his weight into his feet and catching Ralvin completely by surprise. The speed and force of the movement pulled Ralvin forward with him and, before he could right himself, Stegs slammed his head backwards into his face, enjoying the sensation of hitting soft tissue, and did a wild backwards karate chop aimed at Ralvin’s nuts. Unfortunately, in his panic he missed completely and caught him on the thigh instead. But Stegs knew better than to stop there and, still keeping all his weight in his feet, used his elbow instead, this time striking lucky.
Ralvin grunted in pain and made the cardinal error of letting go of Stegs, who then dived to the floor. He’d barely hit it when he heard the sound of Ralvin’s pistol being fired one more time, and then shots rang out seemingly from every direction and Ralvin fell heavily to the ground, making Stegs think that all these bullets were going to generate an awful lot of paperwork.
He waited a good five seconds before lifting his head, watching as the first CO19 ran over to where Ralvin lay on his back in a sprawled heap, the gun still in his hand, and attempted to administer first aid.
It’s a bit late for that, thought Stegs, slowly getting to his feet.
The car park was now crawling with heavily armed police, while a few feet away Big Tone had woken up and was propped up against the BMW, rubbing his head and looking dazed.
The problem was there was no sign of the Rasta or Ugo Amelu.
Twenty-seven
Dan and I had heard everything over the radio as a frantic Olaf ordered CO19 in to save UCs 1 and 2, one of whom had been hurt.
It’s hard when all the action’s going on around you and you’re there as an observer only, especially when you can’t actually observe anything. I was getting tired of sitting in the car and now that there was no need to stay hidden I got out and breathed in the less-than-fresh London night air, which was when I heard a single shot from a high-calibre weapon I didn’t immediately recognize and didn’t think was police-issue being fired from inside the estate. Then came another burst of fire – at least a dozen shots this time, coming from MP5s.
Dan was out of the car now too. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘That doesn’t sound promising. I hope to God they didn’t take out Ugo.’
I was just opening my mouth to answer when two figures crossed my vision as they sprinted past on a walkway just inside the estate. I only caught the briefest glimpse of them, but that was enough to recognize the lead runner as Ugo Amelu. The man behind him, running equally fast, was a shorter, older man in a bomber jacket and jeans.
Dan saw them too and, since we couldn’t hear any obvious signs of pursuit, we exchanged a quick glance and made a collective decision not to be observers any more.
‘Well he’s not dead yet,’ I said as we jumped back into the car and pulled out while Dan grabbed the radio and called in what we’d just seen and our location.
When we’d spotted them, Ugo and the other guy had been running parallel to the road we were on so I drove in the same direction, as Olaf shouted down the radio telling us to keep the suspects under surveillance but not to attempt arrests as they were likely to be armed. ‘Back-up is on the way!’ he yelled, knowing that he’d be the one in trouble if either of us got shot. And just in case we hadn’t heard him properly, he shouted it again.
He sounded stressed. No one wants shots fired on one of their ops – it’s a mountain of paperwork – and by the sound of it CO19 had fired at least a dozen, which meant someone was dead. Olaf couldn’t afford any more drama.
But, as I looked in the rear-view mirror and didn’t see any immediate sign of reinforcements, I decided I had no choice but to add to Olaf’s stress levels. I swung a sharp right at the end of the estate, and saw a road leading into it up ahead. I turned into it, drove between two buildings, and came out in a large square with a vandalized children’s play area in the middle. On the other side, running in front of a line of boarded-up ground-floor flats, were Ugo and the other guy. They turned our way as I drove towards them but didn’t slow down and I could see they were aiming for a flight of steps leading up to the flats on the upper floors.
I accelerated hard, then yanked the wheel round in a screech of tyres, bringing the car to a halt just in front of them. Dan was closest to the pavement and he already had his door open before I’d fully stopped. He was out of the car fast, but credit to Ugo, he was even faster. He accelerated, dodging Dan’s outstretched arm, and carried on running, so Dan hit the other guy instead with a waist-high rugby tackle that saw them both go crashing into a wall, with the suspect getting by far the worst of it.
I could hear the sound of a siren approaching from somewhere out on the main road, but it was still a good thirty seconds away and Ugo was already bounding up the staircase, moving fast. If he disappeared into the bowels of the estate it wasn’t going to be easy to find him. And there was something else. As he’d passed us, I’d seen a gun handle poking out of the back of his jeans.
So he was armed. And I wasn’t.
The thing is, in the heat of a pursuit, you don’t tend to think about the extreme danger you’re putting yourself in. You get swept up in the excitement, the adrenalin courses through your veins, and it’s almost as if you’re invincible. Plus if you really want to catch your quarry you’re going to take some big risks. And I really wanted Ugo Amelu.
As I ran up the steps after him, I saw him disappear down a first-floor walkway that connected to the next building. I didn’t know how fit he was but he had to be tiring the pace he was going at, and I was still pretty fresh.
As I got to the walkway I just had time to see him reach the end then turn a corner and disappear. I redoubled my pace, my footsteps clattering on the hard concrete, and turned the way he’d gone. I ran past another bleak row of empty boarded-up flats then rounded another corner where a second flight of steps led back down to the ground floor.
I descended them two and three steps at a time and, as I reached the bottom, saw an open door to my left leading into the darkness of an abandoned flat.
Rubbish, including used syringes, littered the floor inside. Ahead of me was a more open area with a line of overflowing wheelie bins on one side, flats on the other, and beyond that a patch of sparse grass and a wooden fence that marked the border of the estate.
I stopped, panting from the exertion. Ugo was nowhere to be seen. I turned towards the open door, realizing that I was about to put myself in a very vulnerable position.
Which was when I heard the sound of heavy breathing behind me.
I swung round fast as a fist flew out of nowhere and connected with the side of my head, sending me bouncing off the doorframe and crashing to the ground.
Through my momentarily blurred vision I saw Ugo coming towards me out of the gloom, aiming a kick at my face. I was dazed, but my training kicked in. Instinctively I sat up and wrapped both arms round his foot while it was still in mid-air, knocking him off balance. He slipped and fell, rolling over on the concrete as I jumped up. Trying to shake the pain out of my head, I lurched towards him.
But he was quick. He rolled on to his back and pulled out his gun, pointing it straight at my chest.
I froze, knowing that there was no way I could knock it out of his hand, and he got to his feet, keeping the gun trained on me. He was panting heavily, but there was something in his expression that unnerved me. A sense of triumph.
‘You’re Ray Mason,’ he said.
‘That’s right,’ I answered, wanting to keep him talking. I could hear sirens coming from different directions but they still seemed to be a long way away. At that moment, I was on my own. ‘Why don’t you just put the weapon down, Ugo? You’re in enough trouble as it is.’
He looked surprised that I knew his name but quickly regained his composure. Grinning, he wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
‘Do you know there’s a fifty grand bonus on your head?’ he asked
.
‘I didn’t. But thanks for keeping me posted.’
His finger tightened on the trigger. The gun was pointing right between my eyes. I thought of Tina and realized just how much I had to lose.
‘Fifty grand’s not worth a life sentence, Ugo,’ I said, keeping my voice calm, ‘which is what you’d get if you pull the trigger now.’
He seemed to think about that for a moment but his gun hand remained worryingly steady. ‘No, bruv. It’s well worth it. I’d do you for free.’
Somewhere in the distance I could hear shouted instructions. Reinforcements were finally coming.
Ugo momentarily took his eyes off me as he tried to work out their location, and I lunged for the gun.
He pulled the trigger, but I’d already knocked his gun hand to one side and the bullet ricocheted wildly off the wall. I tried to strike him flat-handed on the nose, while simultaneously grabbing the wrist of his gun hand and twisting, but I slipped, and as he moved, matador-like, to one side, I crashed into one of the wheelie bins.
This time I managed to stay upright, but as I swung round to face him I saw that I was too late. He’d taken a couple of steps backwards so he was out of range and was pointing the gun at me again. Except this time, something in his face had changed. He looked excited and determined, as if he’d just made a decision that pleased him, and I knew then that he was going to shoot me dead.
There was a roar from the steps above us and, as we both looked up, I saw Dan come charging down and leap the last five steps. Ugo swung the gun round and pulled the trigger a second time as Dan crashed into him, and for a moment I thought Dan was hit, but then he let loose a two-punch combination to Ugo’s face that was so rapid it was almost a blur. Ugo’s legs literally went from under him and he fell to the floor with Dan on top of him. The gun flew out of his hand and clattered along the ground. Ugo tried to lift his head, blood seeping on to his chin from a split lip, but couldn’t quite manage it. He looked dazed as Dan shook him angrily.
‘You see this?’ he demanded, pointing to a tiny camera on his jacket collar that I knew he liked to wear. ‘Open your eyes. Look.’
Ugo just about managed to open his eyes and looked to where Dan was pointing.
‘It’s footage showing you trying to kill me. That’s attempted murder. You want that played in court? Because if you don’t, you’d better start talking, brother. You need to tell us about Kristo Fisha.’
‘Who?’
Dan leaned forward and grabbed his face hard with one hand. I hoped he’d turned off the camera. ‘Kristo Fisha. Your old buddy. Remember him?’
‘What about him?’ asked Ugo, looking confused.
‘You’re going to tell us why he and his girlfriend were tortured to death.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You know exactly what I’m talking about,’ hissed Dan, tightening the grip on Ugo’s face.
But he never got a chance to continue. We both heard the sound of racing footsteps coming from above and, as I stood behind Dan to shield him from their view, three CO19 officers appeared at the top of the steps, weapons outstretched. At the same time three more appeared on the waste ground up ahead, coming towards us. Seeing that we’d secured the suspect, they lowered their weapons.
Dan let go of Ugo’s face and glared down at him. ‘Ugo Amelu, I’m arresting you for possession of an offensive weapon with intent to endanger life. You do not have to say anything—’
‘I know the fucking drill,’ groaned Ugo, who was bleeding badly from his mouth wound.
Dan slowly got to his feet, subtly tapping the camera. ‘OK, we’ve got him, gents,’ he said, picking up Ugo, and together we led him up the steps.
We both knew we needed to get him alone where we could talk to him in private. Dan had only arrested him for possession of a firearm with intent, but his lapel camera had recorded evidence of him trying to kill us both, so we had something on him. Something that would get him to talk. We only had a few minutes before he was taken into custody, but if we worked fast this would be enough.
Except we never got the chance because before we were even halfway up the steps, we were met by DI Glenda Gardner, my nemesis at Ealing nick, coming down with another female detective I didn’t recognize. She looked angry.
‘You were meant to be observers,’ she snapped, grabbing a still-dazed Ugo by the arm and pulling him away from us. ‘Not charging around getting involved.’
‘It’s a good thing we did,’ I said, ‘otherwise you wouldn’t have got him.’
But she was no longer listening as, surrounded by CO19, she and the other detective marched Ugo Amelu back up the steps, across the walkway and away from us.
Twenty-eight
Dan and I now had a serious quandary.
British law clearly states that a police officer who’s the victim of a crime must not continue to investigate that crime because he’s now directly involved, and therefore his presence on the investigating team would be prejudicial to proceedings. So if we wanted to continue our conversation with Ugo in an interview room we were both going to have to forget the fact that he’d tried to kill us, which meant he was going to wriggle his way out of two attempted murder charges. The problem was, these attempted murder charges were probably the best reason for him to cooperate with us, but by then we’d be off the case and relying on other officers to do the questioning for us.
It wasn’t a position either of us wanted to be in.
‘What are we going to do?’ Dan asked as we walked back through the estate in the direction of the flashing lights. A few civilians moved about in the shadows of the buildings, staying well back as emergency vehicles continued to stream into the estate. ‘We almost got killed nicking that arsehole, and now he’s off limits.’
‘We need to think about this,’ I said, looking round to check we were on our own. ‘Did your camera record?’
‘It should have done. I switched it on when we left the car. The footage goes straight to my mobile.’
He fished the phone out of his pocket and flicked through files until he came to the one he wanted. He switched it to mute and pressed play as I stood next to him. It was high-quality footage showing a slightly shaky view of the route we’d taken in pursuit of Ugo. Dan moved it forward until it showed him rounding the corner on the first-floor walkway just at the moment when Ugo was taking two steps backwards and pointing the gun directly to my head, while I stood in front of him, my hands held up in a defensive gesture. Ugo then turned round rapidly in the direction of the camera, still holding the gun, as Dan rushed towards him. The gun went off with a muzzle flash a split second before Dan hit him head on. The footage was then a blur as the two men crashed to the ground, before showing a bleeding and dazed Ugo.
Dan pressed stop, and pocketed the phone.
‘Jesus,’ I said, ‘how did he miss you? Any jury seeing that’s going to convict him of at least one count of attempted murder.’ I took a deep breath. Watching the footage had brought home to me how close we’d both come to death. ‘You saved my life, mate,’ I said, wondering whether I should give him a hug or something. In the end, I settled for a simple thank you.
‘I’d expect the same from you,’ he said.
‘And you’d get it. Even so, charging him like that when you knew he was going to pull the trigger was a brave thing to do.’
‘You know what it’s like. You don’t stop to think.’ He looked at me. ‘I can’t believe I was just telling you that I haven’t punched someone since, you know, that night, and then half an hour later I hit Ugo.’
‘I’m glad you did, otherwise we’d probably both be dead. And now we’ve got something we can use as leverage against him. Ugo knows we’ve got it, so there must be a way we can make a deal with him. And there are no other witnesses. We can even skew our statements so that it sounds like his gun went off in the struggle and there was a lack of intent to kill. He’ll still go down a long time, but it’ll be a lot less than i
t would be if we release the film.’
‘But, Ray, how are we going to make a deal with Ugo if we can’t talk to him?’
I took a deep breath and wiped the last of the sweat off my brow with my sleeve, thinking fast. We were back out in the estate’s parking area, close to our car. The exit was currently jammed with a line of squad cars and ambulances and I could see Ugo being led in handcuffs by a group of three CO19 officers towards one of the ambulances.
‘He’s going to hospital for a check-up,’ I said. ‘We can get to him there.’
‘How, Ray? We can’t just stroll in. And it’s too risky to do it any other way.’
‘Too risky for both of us, but I’ve got a lot less to lose than you. Drop me off at the hospital. I’ll make out I need to get treatment for shock. You go back to Ealing, and delay giving your statement until you hear from me. That way, if Ugo doesn’t talk we can still get the bastard for trying to kill us.’
‘But how are you going to get to him?’
‘Let me worry about that.’
Dan still hesitated. ‘I need you on this case, Ray. If you get caught interfering with a suspect, especially one who’s taken a shot at you, you could get suspended.’
He was right. What I was suggesting was highly illegal. But Dan also looked like he didn’t have the energy to argue. Like me, he had to know this was our best method of progress.
‘Can you send me the film on WhatsApp so I can show it to him?’
Dan shook his head wearily. ‘I’ll give you this, Ray. Working with you definitely isn’t boring.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, but don’t do anything yet. We’ve got company.’
Olaf was coming towards us, not looking best happy. ‘Has someone read him his rights?’ he demanded, motioning to where Ugo was disappearing into the back of the ambulance.
The Hanged Man Page 15
