by Leo McNeir
“Sit tight, do nothing. No curiosity, no heroics. You can ring me on the mobile if anything develops. I’ve gotta go now.”
“We’ll wait here.”
They disconnected. Marnie immediately rang Ralph on Thyrsis to put him in the picture and warn him to batten down the hatches, literally.
Bartlett said, “Sir, I want authorisation to call in the armed support unit. It’s not definite, I know, but this man could be a killer. We’ve got to move fast.”
“Get going, Jack.” Scutt was pressing buttons on the phone before Bartlett was out of his chair.
*
Ronny Cope was looking forward to seeing Anne for the first time in a couple of weeks. He cycled round to the high street from the executive housing development where he lived and turned into the field entrance, moving onto the grass to avoid the rutted surface of the track. He had promised himself a break from exam revision, just an hour before lunch to clear his head, and he liked nowhere better in the village than Glebe Farm. Marnie and Anne were different from other people. They made everything seem magic.
Where the track sloped more steeply, he could see the rooftops of the farmhouse and cottages, and he dismounted so as not to be riding the last section on his brakes. He had intended ringing Anne with his mobile to ask if it was all right to come down, but he worried that she might put him off till later and he knew that if he arrived they would make him welcome.
The sound of a car made him look back, and he hoped it might be Marnie in her old MG, but the engine sounded modern, and it was no surprise when a Cavalier came into view. He thought it was going faster than was wise on the bumpy track, and he pulled over to give it plenty of space to pass. It was being followed by a dark blue van, like a Transit, and as he watched, the van peeled off and headed down the slope towards the canal. Behind it was another, and then another. What the hell was going on?
Moving into cover behind a tree, Ronny grabbed his mobile, scrolled to Anne’s name on the dialling menu and hit the green button.
*
“What’s going to happen now?” said Anne.
They were both standing at the back of the office, leaning against the kitchen workbench, arms folded. Dolly was sitting on the floor beside them, washing.
“I suppose the police’ll come and question our visitor. Oh god, Anne. I think I’ve probably made myself look a complete fool. They’ll probably scramble helicopters, the commandos and a tank division, only to find this is a man who needs peace and quiet because he suffers with migraine.”
“Well I think you did the right thing,” said Anne. “After everything that’s happened round here lately, you can’t take any chances. Do you really think they’ll send a helicopter?”
“Dunno. But I can’t imagine them asking Cathy Lamb to pop round for a quiet chat with him, not after I’ve virtually accused him of being a murderer. And I heard Sergeant Marriner say perhaps it was the mugger.”
Anne’s mobile began ringing across the room, and they both stared at it for some seconds as if mesmerised before Anne went to pick it up. Dolly followed her and jumped up to sit on the desk. Anne looked at the tiny screen.
“It’s okay, Marnie. Nothing to worry about. It’s only Ronny.” She pressed the button. “Hiya!”
Marnie saw Anne’s smile vanish as she listened. “What’s up?” she mouthed.
Anne held the phone away from her face, looking even paler than usual.
“They’re here,” she said.
*
Ronny put the mobile in his pocket and tried to think things through. He had never been in this kind of situation before. Suddenly his thoughts about the interesting lives led by Anne and Marnie seemed to be slapping him in the face. Marnie had taken over the conversation from Anne. Get away as quickly as you can, she had said. Don’t stick around. It could be dangerous. No time for explanations, just go. Now!
He reached for the handlebars of his bike, but straightened up again, leaving it propped against the tree. Marnie had been very firm, but how could he just go off and leave them if they were in danger? He had seen those police vans and was sure the people inside were carrying guns, the butts resting on their knees, barrels pointing upwards. They were wearing helmets with raised visors like the riot police he had seen on television. But what could he do? The realistic answer was ... nothing. His only weapon was a bicycle pump. And if the police were arriving in force, armed with assault rifles, what did the opposition have? He was looking at a potential battlefield. And in the middle of the action were Anne and Marnie, and presumably Ralph.
He agonised for several more seconds before reaching his decision. Leaving the bike, he slowly made his way down the slope until he reached a clump of bushes, where he could see the whole of the Glebe Farm complex laid out before him. The place looked deserted and peaceful. Nothing stirred. Fleetingly, he wondered where the Cavalier had gone.
An urge came over him. He wanted to rush headlong to the office barn and drag Anne and Marnie away to safety before the storm broke. But perhaps he would only make it worse and put their lives in danger. He felt desperate and suddenly had to relieve himself in the bushes. This brought comfort, but a feeling of shame, and he realised that all he could do was watch and wait.
*
Bartlett and Marriner drove off the field track before reaching the farm buildings. They had glimpsed a cyclist on their way down, but had no time to stop and turn him away. With any luck he would be clear before any action started.
Marriner brought the car to a halt at one side of the spinney, annoyed that new foliage made it impossible to see through to the canalside about fifty metres away. They got out of the car, and Bartlett called up the leader of the armed support unit by walkie-talkie, his voice barely a murmur. There was a faint burst of static, and the ASU officer announced in a whisper that they were approaching the boat.
Bartlett told him to move in as soon as he was ready and use minimum force. His heart was pounding as all manner of emotions conflicted inside him. There could be a gun battle and casualties. Lives could be lost because of a decision he had taken. The man on the boat might be innocent of any crime. This could be a fiasco, and a deadly one at that.
Peering ahead, Bartlett saw movement between the trees, dark shapes blurring in the background. He heard a banging that was not gunfire, and a splintering, crunching sound, a door being smashed. He waited an eternity. Was it all over? A voice on the walkie-talkie. Boat empty. Damn, damn, damn!
The armed men began to comb through the spinney, fanning out to cover the whole area. They were working their way steadily towards Glebe Farm.
*
“What was that?” Anne tilted her head on one side. “Did you hear that, Marnie?”
“It’s started,” said Marnie. Anne was going to speak again, but Marnie raised a hand to stop her. “Listen.”
They could hear only silence and their own breathing. Even the cat stopped washing. No birdsong, no movement, nothing. Marnie walked to the window.
“Perhaps it’s all over.”
*
The leader of the ASU joined Bartlett and Marriner by their car and raised his visor, holding his weapon down by his side.
“Looks like he’s done a runner. Everything neat and tidy.”
“You don’t think he might just’ve gone out ... to the shop, perhaps?” said Bartlett.
“It all looks too clean for that. No clothes on board. He’s legged it.”
That brought some relief to Bartlett, but the problem still remained. Somewhere not far away a suspicious and potentially dangerous character was at large. He could be their mugger and may well be a murderer, too.
“Let’s hope we can pick him up before he vanishes,” said Marriner.
The ASU leader scanned the spinney where his men were advancing in a line. If the fugitive was here, he would be found. The question on everyone’s mind was whether he was armed. He would certainly be desperate.
Suddenly, one of the ASU men raised a hand. All the others stopped
and squatted down, watching him as he indicated twice with a finger pointing ahead and over to the right. Someone had been spotted moving towards the edge of the spinney in the direction of the cluster of outlying barns.
“Can we head him off?” said Bartlett. “If we can catch him before he gets in among the barns, it’ll be easier. We don’t know if he’s armed.”
The ASU leader nodded and signalled to his unit to move forward, keeping low. One of the men halted, raised himself to a stooping position and stared ahead. He looked back to his commander, shaking his head slightly, before moving forward with the others.
“What’s all that about?” said Bartlett.
“He’s seen something,” said the leader. “Something’s bothering him. I don’t want to use radio at this stage. We’ll just have to be on our guard.”
He moved off swiftly and silently, catching up with his men, veering towards the barns. Bartlett and Marriner turned out from the spinney and began to walk quickly along its perimeter on a course that would converge with the unit when they cleared the trees.
“Sir!” Marriner grabbed Bartlett by the arm and pointed ahead.
There was no doubt about it. Someone – not in uniform – was making a break for it between the barns. They only caught a glimpse of a shape but whoever it was, he knew he was being pursued. There it was again, this time much further ahead. He was moving at speed like a frightened hare. It was almost as if he was in two places at once, he was so fast. Bartlett and Marriner were jogging forward, and they lost sight of their quarry behind the barns. They wanted to shout to the armed unit, but were worried it would give their position away. One false move at this stage and they could lose him up the slope in among the bushes. And if he had a car – or could get hold of one in the village – that really would be a disaster.
*
Ronny heard the sound of the boat’s door being smashed in. Otherwise, everything was eerily quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. Ronny was certainly holding his breath. At the edge of his field of vision something caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a narrow boat threading its way along a silver strip of water about half a mile off. He wondered if it was going to blunder into a disaster area. Just then, more movement made him snap back to the farm and the spinney. He was sure he had seen something, though unsure about what it was.
His eyes became dry with staring, and he thought he might have been hallucinating. He blinked and rubbed his eyes and had the frustrating impression that he had missed the sight of someone leaping out of the spinney and who was now concealed behind the barns. There was no doubt in his mind, and he was in an agony of indecision. If anyone came his way what would he – could he – do about it? How would he know if they were the hunted or the hunter? Half wishing he had followed Marnie’s orders, he took a few deep breaths and watched for developments.
He did not have to wait long. A head came round the corner of the nearest barn, about twenty-five metres downhill from where he stood. Simultaneously he spotted two men running up the side of the spinney and beyond them, in a gap between the farm buildings, he saw dark uniforms creeping forward where the trees began. Without waiting to think, he stood out from his clump of trees and yelled.
“Down here! Quick! This way!”
He screamed so loud he was almost hoarse with the effort, and he swallowed hard, resisting the urge to cough. For a second he nearly choked, but he saw that his cry had been heeded. The two men were sprinting towards the barns, and the ones who looked like commandos were moving stealthily forward, guns at the ready. He just caught a glimpse of the man being pursued as he charged from one barn to another and dived over a pile of paving slabs beside the farmhouse. But something was not right. Was that the man he had seen? Somehow he looked smaller. Could there be two of them? No, he was getting confused in his excitement. He could almost feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. Here he was, playing his part, practically directing the operation. When this was all over, he would be able to feel he had pulled his weight, helped Anne and Marnie and the police, even though he had no idea what was happening in front of his eyes or why.
One group of armed men was now gathering in the shelter of the end cottage. Ronny worried that they might break cover and come under fire. Again he stepped out from behind his tree, cupped his hands and yelled.
“Over there – that way! In the farmhouse!”
He leapt back, his heart thumping. Risking a glance, he saw more armed men rounding the office barn, where they were joined by the two men in plain clothes. These two were in urgent discussion with one of the ‘commandos’, and Ronny was gratified to see them looking in his direction. He was part of the action.
*
“Someone’s shouting,” said Anne. “Not far away. What do you think’s happening?”
Marnie went to the further end of the window to look out. “Someone’s out there. I can see something over there by the cottages. Oh my god!”
“What is it?” said Anne.
“Men with guns. Loads of them in uniform. Must be police.”
Anne rushed across to where Marnie stood, the two of them keeping as far back from the window as they could. The shouting voice rang out again.
“Did you hear that, Marnie? He said the farmhouse, I’m sure he did. Funny. It sounded like Ronny.”
“Can’t be,” said Marnie. “Surely not. Must be one of their men, spotting.”
Suddenly, another voice could be heard outside, amplified by a megaphone, speaking slowly and clearly. “Armed police. The building is surrounded. Throw out any weapons and come out slowly with your hands on your head.”
Marnie strained to see if there was any movement visible across the yard. The site was deserted for once, and she stared at the open doorway of the house, but saw nothing. As they watched, there was a soft bump behind them, and Anne turned her head to see Dolly, who had jumped down from the desk. Anne gasped. To her horror, the cat trotted across the room towards the door.
“Dolly, no!” Anne screamed.
But it was too late. Before Anne could reach her, Dolly dived through the catflap and out into the yard. Marnie pressed her face against the window, trying to see which way the cat went. Dolly was surprised by the unexpected sight of all the men with their dark uniforms and guns. She sprinted across the yard, ran straight through the open door of the farmhouse and disappeared inside. In her consternation Marnie failed to hear Anne run to the door. The bolts were already drawn before she realised what was happening.
“Anne!” she shouted, rushing to restrain her.
Again it was too late. Anne leapt out, pulling the door behind her, spraying stones from her shoes as she accelerated away. From that moment, Marnie later recalled what happened in the next few minutes only as a blur. She had a dim recollection of a man visible at a downstairs window, carrying a rifle or shotgun. There was shouting, men yelling at each other, others calling to Anne to get back. But the girl took no notice and kept running with her head down. In seconds she reached the doorway and dived in without hesitation. Marnie wrenched open the office door and through all the sounds, clearly heard an exclamation from Anne. It was part shock, part surprise.
For Marnie everything happened in slow motion, lasting an eternity. She set herself to run towards the farmhouse, but her arms were grabbed from behind. Sergeant Marriner held her in a firm grip.
“Don’t struggle, Marnie!” he yelled. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“But Anne –”
“Looks like he’s got a gun. Listen to me. Did you have a shotgun in the farmhouse?”
“A shot–? No, of course not.”
“Then it’s his, and he’s armed. Get back inside the office.”
Marriner tried to turn her back, but she resisted. There was more shouting. A sound of breaking glass. Anne screamed. The sound was suddenly cut short. The fugitive with the gun flashed into view inside the house, partly concealed in shadows.
“There!” shouted Bartlett.
> A rifle shot rang out from beside the office barn. More shots. An order from the leader to cease firing. One man sprinted in a crouch towards the house followed by three others. They formed up either side of the doorway, and one dived inside while the others covered him, slipping inside, one after another. The leader spoke curtly into his radio. Marnie did not catch what he said, but she heard the reply. It would stay with her for the rest of her life.
A faint burst of static and then, “Girl’s down.”
“Say again.”
“Girl’s down, sir.”
“Wounded?”
“Dead, sir. No chance.”
Marnie closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over her. Marriner released his grip on her arms. Bartlett stared at the ASU leader.
“What the –” he began.
Before he could finish, a shape became visible at the rear of the house, a man clutching a rucksack. He dived into the overgrown patch of garden to make his escape. Marnie broke clear of the group by the office barn and sprinted across the yard. She leaped the low pile of paving slabs in a volley of shots, heard bullets slap the foliage, ricochet off the wall beside her. She was still running, gaining on the man, when he fell headlong. More shots echoed, stone dust sprayed her, and she was struck from behind by a giant hand smacking the back of her head. She tripped and scrambled in the earth to regain her footing, tasting dirt, the blood pounding in her brain. Her efforts only pitched her forward on hands and knees, and weakening she grabbed at the legs of the man she had chased, now lying on his side in amongst the weeds. His breath was coming in short sobbing gasps, staccato and uneven.
Marnie pulled herself to her knees, shook her head, winced in pain and seized him by the shoulder. She wanted to beat him with her fists for killing Simon and being the cause of Anne’s death, but he was close to death himself, and she was weighed down with anguish. Blood was forming a puddle under the man’s chest, and his mouth was hanging half-open. He turned his eyes, already beginning to glaze over, to look up at her. All her rage, all her desire to harm this man, to kill him, drained from her body in exhaustion, and she hung her head.
