Lane: A Case For Willows And Lane

by Peter Grainger

  Harley was in discussion with two of the Control Centre staff and ACC Russell. Jenny Spall entered the room then, and Willows found a moment to ask her about Marie.

  ‘She’s OK, Robert. We’ve left someone there. She won’t be on her own until this is sorted. I can’t believe this, can you? Bastards actually threatening us… What’s happening?’

  He told her. She looked at the screen more closely, and then went across to the group of senior officers.

  She said, ‘Sir. The speed camera on the approach into Temple Hill is the new sort, isn’t it? If it’s operational, it’s recording all vehicles, not just the quick ones.’

  Harley didn’t need any further explanation. Those number-plates should be recorded on the central database already – how quickly could it be accessed from the control room? The answer was in just under sixty seconds, and then another two minutes to cross reference with the DVLA computer; going by the manufacturers’ details there, no cars resembling the target vehicles had travelled that way in the past three hours.

  Russell said, ‘That narrows it down to what, an eight mile stretch with almost no turns off? They have to be in there. Tell the car in Temple Hill to stay where they are and to close the road; no-one in or out. Let Traffic know straight away it’s on my authority. Tell the other two vehicles coming from the south the new situation. Every side road and access point to be examined – get out of the vehicles and search them all. Tyre tracks, anything. When the chopper arrives, make sure they are talking to each other.’

  The ACC stopped then and looked at his watch.

  ‘They’ve got about fifty minutes of airtime left before they have to go back. The sooner we have drones, the better, eh?’

  He looked around but no-one seemed to have an opinion on the matter. All eyes were on the screen as the points of red light converged onto Ravens’ Tor.

  At that exact moment, Lane too was watching a light. It showed briefly far down to the right as someone moved along the edge of the forest, and that was good, really good, because someone else was coming slowly up the hill towards them. Why they hadn’t joined up again as she had imagined they would, she had no idea. Now she had seconds to work it out – which of them would be here first? Would Small have given the only torch to his companion? She had to conclude that he would not, and therefore it was the driver who was now just a minute or two away.

  Lane went into the hut and spoke quietly.

  ‘Emily – one of them is coming up the hill.’

  Emily was on her feet immediately, ready to move on.

  Lane said, ‘No, not this time. This place gives us a chance to take one of them out. That’s what I think we should do.’

  ‘Take one of them out? You mean shoot him?’

  ‘Not if I can help it. If he gets the upper hand, it might come to that but…’

  Time, Lane, time is not on your side. If she wants to argue this any more, you’ll have to try to get her up that path.

  ‘Alright. What do I do?’

  ‘Good. Remember back at the house when you put on that performance and it lowered their guard?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Same again. Sit on the bench in the dark and start up a conversation with me. It doesn’t matter what it’s about – it will be pretty one-sided.’

  ‘Why? Where will you be?’

  ‘Outside. I just want him to think we’re both in here. He might come in or he might not but it’ll give me the chance to get behind him. What happens after that will be down to him.’

  Emily went back to the bench and Lane heard her sit down, but there was a distinct lack of conviction in the air.

  Lane said, ‘We don’t know each other well, Emily, but this is your chance to shine. I’d say talking is one of the things you do best.’

  ‘That is quite unnecessary and a little impertinent. If you-’

  ‘That’s it, let’s have an argument. Keep it going,’ and then Emily found herself addressing a square of starlight.

  The foresters had built the hut in the lee of a low cliff. Wild clematis had scrambled down from above and grown into a thicket of hazel – Lane edged into the deep shadow within, giving herself a clear view of the entrance to the hut and the slope that led up to it. She could still hear Emily’s voice nattering away, with occasional short spaces, as if the person that she was addressing was answering but much more quietly.

  A silhouetted head and shoulders appeared first – then the upper half of the body was visible. He stopped, hearing the voice, and crouched a little, looking left and right. So far, so good, thought Lane; even at this distance, in the glimmering moonlight she could tell that this was not Small. She had been right about the torch – had she also been right about the gun? If there was only one more gun, surely Small would have kept that, too. If both were armed, that altered things. In that case, this character, now creeping quietly forward again, might decide to go straight in – but without a torch, in the darkness of the hut? She had to go with her first guesses, and waited to see what he would do.

  Now he was edging around to his right and that was bringing him closer to where Lane had concealed herself – he was doing this, she knew, so that he did not appear outlined against the sky visible from the entrance to the hut. Nowhere near as heavily built as Small; quite the opposite in fact but she took nothing for granted as far as that was concerned. Anyone who had willingly become involved in attempting a kidnap and interfering with a trial was dangerous, full stop. She breathed slowly and silently but was otherwise absolutely motionless, watching and waiting.

  He had heard enough. Instead of going on towards the hut, he stepped further away and into the same patch of shadow that was hiding her. He was only a few feet away, and she could see then what he was going to do. He had taken out his phone, and the screen lit up. He shielded it with his body and pressed a button. There could be no doubt about whom he was going to call.

  Lane knew that she had as many as ten seconds in which to stop him. A brain like hers, adrenaline-fuelled, is lightning fast in such a situation, and she weighed up the risks in no more than five of those seconds – stop him making the call, take him out of the equation and leave Small down there in the darkness, wondering what’s happened. That gives us the best odds and that’s how you’ve played this up to now, going with the percentages. Don’t do the other thing, Lane, the thing that always got you into bother even when you were right…

  She let him make the call. He spoke very quietly but he was so close to her now that she heard every word – ‘Where the hell you gone, man? I can’t even see the light now. They’re up here in a shed thing. Yeah, at the top of that hill I went up… Yeah, go back to where we split and then up the hill. They don’t know I’m here. I’ll wait for you, man. Just effing hurry up…’

  The light of the phone disappeared as he put it into a pocket. There was no noise from the hut now, and Lane saw his head turn in that direction. If it stayed quiet, he would move from here to see what was going on. Now or never, then.

  Lane raised the gun.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Superintendent Jack Harley saw ACC Russell edge back into the Control room and stand just inside the doorway, not wanting his unaccustomed presence here to interfere with what was going on. When their eyes met, Russell nodded, and presumably that meant that the air support had been redirected as planned. They couldn’t be more than a few minutes away from Ravens’ Tor. The equipment on the helicopter was up-to-the-moment – the infrared camera would reveal anyone out on the hillside in a matter of seconds. Anyone alive or recently dead, that is.

  Harley glanced around the Control room and counted the number of bodies – too many, probably, as always seems to happen in these situations, but there was silence nonetheless. No sign of Hannaford and Cooper, though. No doubt they were performing manoeuvres of their own in the darkness. Best if Russell dealt with them; Harley had concluded years ago that the higher-level politics of the job were quite beyond him. If Hannaford got in his fac
e again, the superintendent’s pension might be at risk, and Janet had set her heart on the villa in Malaga.

  On the screen, two of the red lights were now stationary. One had to assume that they were doing as ordered and searching every entrance into the countryside before moving on along the road. Squinting at the screen, he could see that the first of the searching vehicles was a good way down the road now; if they found nothing, the operation would be relying totally on a chopper with less than thirty minutes’ worth of fuel.

  As if in answer to his growing sense of unease, the intercom in front of him buzzed. When he picked up the handset, Harley found himself speaking directly to Sergeant Jonathan Wright, one of the two armed officers in the pursuit vehicle. As he listened to the report, Harley was aware that every pair of eyes in the room was upon him. He was also aware that technically the senior uniformed officer should be taking the decisions in such a scenario, not a detective, but Russell remained by the door.

  ‘OK, Jon. Search it thoroughly, and make sure it isn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Wait there until back-up arrives, which should be within minutes. Then you four start looking again. The chopper should be overhead shortly. No heroics from anyone.’

  Harley put the handset down and said to no-one in particular, ‘They’ve found the Volvo – crashed into a log on a forestry road. No need to worry about how that’s happened at the moment.’

  When Jenny Spall spoke, they all knew that it was for Robert Willows.

  ‘Any sign of the second vehicle, sir?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I have a gun pointed at the centre of your back. I am close to you. If you move, I will fire. At this range, I’m bound to hit something. Stand very still.’

  Jamal Shah’s head turned perhaps two inches before he fully understood what had just happened. One of the women was in the shadows behind him, and one of them did have a gun – Small had told him what had taken place back inside the house.

  ‘That was almost not still enough. Raise your hands nice and high.’

  He did as he was told. She was close – very close.

  ‘Good. Now turn around and face me very slowly – one hundred and eighty degrees. Slower than that, please. Can you see me?’

  What he could see was the starlight glinting on the barrel of the pistol.

  ‘If I shoot you now, it’s self-defence. You were coming for me and the wound would be in the front. That would be easiest for me. Understand? Nod if you understand.’

  Shah nodded. If he launched himself forward, he might reach her and take the gun – or she might be as cool as she sounded and blow his head off.

  ‘Kneel down slowly and put your hands behind you. OK. Now go forward onto your front, keeping your hands behind you where I can see them.’

  It was difficult to kneel in front of a woman but he did so. There was something worryingly matter-of-fact about the way she was telling him what to do, as if this was not the first time she had humiliated a man.

  ‘Now I’m going around to the right and behind you. Keep your wrists together. I have a length of cord with a running noose at one end. I can tie both your hands with one of mine – the other is still pointing the gun at your back. Could you manage in a wheelchair?’

  He felt her placing the loop over his hands. Then she passed the cord between and around his wrists several times before yanking it upwards hard enough to wrench his arms painfully backwards. She tied it off then – he realised that she must be using two hands for that but it was too late.

  ‘Good. All done. Back on your feet. Walk towards the hut, slowly. Don’t stumble or I might think you’re doing a runner. I’ll shoot you in the back if I have to – I’d just rather not. Nearly there. Emily – we have company.’

  Emily Willows watched, holding the phone up as a torch while Lane worked quickly with the cord. The young man lay on his front and the loose end was taken down from his wrists towards his feet. Lane bent his legs backwards at the knee and tied the ankles together, pulling the cord tight until he was hog-tied and helpless. He stared at the floor in front of him, and not once had he looked at either of them – neither had he spoken a word.

  Lane said, ‘And in a few minutes we’ll have some more company, Mrs Willows. We need to get ready.’

  ‘We have a phone now, Summer.’

  ‘Yes, and we’re going to use it – or you are. Not quite done here yet.’

  Lane sat on the bench and took off her left trainer, followed by the sock. Then she knelt beside the man on the floor and Emily heard him gagging and protesting as the sock was forced into his mouth.

  Lane said, ‘No need to make such a fuss. I haven’t worn that more than a couple of days. You can’t make much noise now – if I were you, I wouldn’t make any at all. It was my friend here who shot your mate in the leg. Once she gets going, there’s no stopping her.’

  In the light from the phone, Emily could see that Lane was actually smiling at her own joke as she pulled her trainer back on. Then Lane was on her feet. She seized the cord between the man’s ankles and wrists with both hands and dragged him into the corner furthest from the entrance – just dragged him as easily as if he weighed no more than a sack of dry dogfood. Emily thought, it’s like she’s on some sort of drug.

  Emily said, ‘What do you mean – I’m going to use the phone?’

  Lane was in the entrance now, looking out down the hill.

  ‘You know your son’s mobile number?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Call it now before the phone locks, and keep calling it. When you get through, he’ll know what to do.’

  ‘What are you going to do? Summer? Where are you going?’

  Lane stepped back inside and held out the gun towards Emily, handle first.

  ‘There are two shots in it. The safety is off, Emily. Just point and pull the trigger twice if he comes to this doorway.’

  After a pause, Emily reached for the gun, and Lane’s face came a little closer.

  ‘OK?’

  ‘Yes, I… Where do I aim it?’

  ‘In your case, I’d say the widest bit.’

  ‘What are you going to do, without this?’

  ‘I’m going a little way down the hill – see if I can draw him away from here. Whatever you hear, stick to the plan. Watch the doorway, keep ringing. And shoot if you have to, Emily.’

  Under normal circumstances, Harley would have put all subsequent calls onto the loudspeaker in the control centre, but Robert Willows was still in the room, and Harley didn’t know what those officers beginning the search again were going to find. If he asked Willows to leave now, it would make things worse for him, if that was possible, and so he waited, the handset a few inches from his ear, ready to press the receive button.

  The second and third vehicles had arrived at where the Volvo had been found; soon they would have boots enough on the ground. Harley had already instructed the control centre manager to have wider search capabilities on standby, as well as an ambulance, and they could have another twenty officers there within thirty minutes if needed. But two men and two women in several hundred acres of forest? This could still take all night.

  He saw the light flicker on the base unit and pressed the button before the buzzer could sound. Jonathan Wright again, leading the officers who had followed the track beyond where the Volvo had been found. Slowly the attention in the control centre focused once more on Superintendent Harley.

  ‘All smashed, Jon? Has it been rolled?’

  Jennifer Spall was heading towards Robert Willows then.

  ‘You don’t think so. Anything else?’

  Harley listened hard, thinking and deliberately avoiding any of the looks. Then, ‘No, you wait there with it. I’ll direct more men up to you. Then you can take over, start looking – you’re on the ground, I’m not.’

  To the control room, Harley said, ‘They’ve found the Skoda about two hundred yards from the Volvo. The windows are broken but it hasn’t been in a serious crash. No signs of a
ny injuries, so it looks as if whoever was in it has got away. But where’s that bloody chopper?’

  He caught sight of Russell then, still by the door, beckoning to him because he wanted a word outside. Harley went, his impatience barely concealed.

  Russell said, ‘Willows should not be in the room, Jack. You know what they might come across.’

  ‘Yes, I do, sir. I also know that if I suggest he goes and gets a nice cup of tea in the canteen, one, he won’t go unless I have him carried out, and two, he’ll never forgive me. Or you. Or any of us.’

  The assistant chief constable had said what he had to say. After a moment, he continued with, ‘Where has Hannaford gone?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care, sir.’

  ‘Quite right. Leave that to me. You go back in there and get these people found.’

  Hannaford was outside in the car park, speaking on his mobile phone – another one of those calls that Cooper was not to overhear. Cooper watched him from inside the glass doors, a paper cup of coffee from the machine in each hand. Might as well wait here as anywhere, not as if anyone in this station would want to have a friendly chat…

  Twenty five yards away, in the pokey little room that they had been given as a temporary office, in one of those old-fashioned, spring-backed box files, Robert Willows’ mobile phone began to ring.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If she simply stood and waited for him, staring down the hill, it would look odd enough for him to be suspicious. Lane went a good distance away from the hut, far enough for Small not to be able to see it without the aid of the torch, but not so far that she would be invisible from the line that he was likely to take if he followed the driver’s instructions. Then she half-turned her back to that line. She wanted him to think that he had taken her by surprise.