by Mari Hannah
‘That’s received, Control.’ Kate drove back to Elsdon and on through Otterburn, turning left onto the A68, travelling south. No sign of Collins. At The Steel, she pulled into a lay-by. Reaching into the back, she grabbed a super-scale map from the pocket behind Hank’s seat.
Sometimes satnav just wouldn’t do.
Checking the index, she found the correct page and then looked up, southeast towards a small wind farm, scanning right towards a road she was familiar with. ‘I know exactly where he is,’ she said. ‘He’s steering clear of major routes. There are two minor roads that cut across country. The first is here. It runs from the A696 to the A68 via East Woodburn. I used to go fishing there as a kid with my dad. The other route is here’ – she moved her finger higher up the page – ‘from Knowesgate to Sweethope Lough. My nan called it the Wannies. Don’t ask me why. It comes out there.’
She pointed to the horizon.
The words had hardly left her lips when they both saw a blue car shoot out of the road she’d just been talking about. It bolted across the A68 at a hell of a pace.
Dumping the map on Hank’s knee, Kate engaged first gear and gave chase. ‘Seven-Eight-Two-Four to Control: blue vehicle spotted. Too far away to make a positive ID. It just shot over the A68 travelling west, about half a mile south of The Steel on an unclassified road heading towards Redesdale, Riversdale and Bellingham. I’m in pursuit but I’ve lost the eyeball.’
‘India 99.’ The police helicopter pilot cut in. ‘With you soonest.’
Kate was grateful to Cole. ‘That’s received, India 99.’
It took her a few minutes to spot Collins again.
‘Control, I now have the eyeball. Target vehicle is totally out of control. Driver is ignoring slow signs, putting his female passenger in danger. He’s screaming at her. He just reached into the back and punched her.’ Kate ducked as something bounced off her windscreen. ‘There’s stuff being thrown from the windows, Control.’
Kate edged closer, then pulled off again as Collins swerved into the path of an oncoming tractor. He ploughed into the grass verge and bounced back onto the tarmac, ripping the sill from his vehicle. She needed to stop him. Not an easy task on a winding road with such a poor surface where, in places, it dropped steeply on either side.
Beth’s safety was a priority.
Hank’s was vital.
Changing down, she kept her foot on the gas. The view from this road was stunning but her eyes were on the vanishing point and nowhere else. Just as she caught up with Collins, he again veered into the path of oncoming traffic, missing it by a whisker. Taking a sharp bend at Buteland Farm, every now and then Kate caught sight of her target as the road dipped and twisted like a thin strip of grey ribbon through open countryside.
‘Control, can you establish if there is any ambulance free in our location? If so, please make them aware of our pursuit. Keep them updated with our exact position. I don’t think this is going to end well. The target is travelling in excess of seventy miles an hour. Any Traffic personnel in the area, please respond.’
Panic-stricken, Beth clung on to the grab strap as Collins hurtled round the bend on the opposite side of the road before raking the car onto the correct side again, fishtailing, almost tipping them over the edge, at grave risk of turning the car over. She stared at the back of his head, looking round for something to hit him with, but there was nothing.
Bizarrely, her father’s voice arrived in her head: Never leave anything loose on the backseat. If you hit something, it could fly forward and kill you. Good advice, but it wasn’t helping now. Collins looked over his shoulder, laughing at her pathetic attempt to stay calm, his eyes like black pools.
She couldn’t pull her gaze away.
Every time she begged him to stop, he accelerated sharply, scaring her to death, pinning her to the seat, so far gone, he was unaware that they were now under police surveillance. Beth had spotted Kate’s Audi as they tore along the road. She tried not to look in the wing mirror in case she drew the car to Collins’ attention. Her father had formed roadblocks in pursuit of offenders. Maybe Kate would too. Chris would have to stop then. He’d have no choice.
Kate had lost him temporarily. As she passed the turn-off to Buteland Heights, she slowed down, scanning the surrounding countryside. Giving instructions to India 99 to check farm tracks left and right, she sped up, her eyes widening as she glimpsed Collins in the distance and, beyond him, a group of hikers.
Oh no!
‘He’s reached Redesmouth, Control. Pedestrians are jumping out of the way. I’m pulling off. Pulling off. No longer in pursuit. Any chance of a hard stop or stinger before he reaches Riversdale?’
‘Negative, no one close enough.’
Dropping a gear, Kate negotiated a steep bank close to the river and over a bridge, losing sight of Collins again. The next voice they heard was from the air. Cole’s helicopter was directly above them.
‘India 99 to Control. I now have the eyeball. I’m recording this pursuit.’
Hanging on to the grab strap with his left hand, Hank stuck the fingers of his right hand down his throat, mimicking the pilot’s voice. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ll shortly be arriving in Tenerife.’ He winced as Kate slapped his chest with the back of her hand for taking the piss.
Once through Redesmouth, the DCI picked up speed, taking a really bad corner under a bridge, before a horrifying prospect presented itself via the radio.
‘India 99: target vehicle is doing a reciprocal – Seven-Eight-Two-Four, be advised, he’s travelling east at speed, heading towards you.’
‘I see him.’ Kate held her ground. ‘He’s driving at us deliberately. Brace! Brace!’
Collins screamed past her window, producing the most terrifying whoosh as he took out the Audi’s offside wing mirror, glancing off the side panel of her car, sending metal debris flying everywhere. Swearing at no one in particular, Kate slammed her hand on the dash.
Hank blew out a breath. ‘Could’ve been worse.’
‘Oh yeah, in what way?’
‘Might have been my motor.’
Kate swore at the top of her voice. Cars were her passion.
‘Lighten up,’ Hank said. ‘It’s a piece of tin.’
Unable to see the funny side, Kate turned the Audi around and put her foot down. As she completed the manoeuvre, Collins did the same and came back for a second run. ‘He’s coming at me again, Control. Heading back towards Riversdale and Bellingham. Brace yourself, Hank.’ This time Collins missed them by inches.
Kate did a quick three-point turn and again gave chase. Cole had flown ahead. She could see India 99 hovering over the road. His words sent a chill down her spine. ‘The schools are coming out, Control.’
73
Kate had visions of carnage on the road. As she began backing off on the outskirts of Riversdale, Hank didn’t question why she was slowing down. If they had been in open countryside, he knew she’d be on Collins like a rash but, in small villages, she couldn’t risk tracking him in case someone got hurt. They couldn’t afford the headlines that would surely follow: Cops’ high-speed chase ends in tragedy for pregnant teenager. Pedestrians killed. Reckless driving charges weren’t exclusive to civilians. They were a reality for many police officers too.
Collins was spaced out, enjoying himself, a line of coke and a half-bottle of vodka having done its job. He hadn’t had this much fun in ages. He peered through the front windscreen, the road ahead morphing into a psychedelic highway. A car got louder as it approached, its horn blasting, dying again as it flew by. He saw the whites of the driver’s eyes. A young woman, not much older than Beth, terror on her face as she prepared herself for a collision. Silly cow.
Beth was hysterical in the back, her throat sore from screaming at Collins, imploring him to stop and think about what he was doing. Then a terrifying thought occurred. It arrived like a time bomb in her head . . .
He was intending to kill them both.
<
br /> Beth had never been surer of anything in her short life. Unable to hide her fear, her breathing came in short bursts. The pain in her head was blinding, blotting out logical thought. She couldn’t stop him. The best she could hope for was to reason with him.
‘Chris, pull over. We need to talk about this. You’re not well. I see that. I can help you. It’s not too late. You know how I feel about you. We can sort this.’
It was a lie. The words should have been formed in the past tense. Whatever feelings she’d had for him were long gone. The ear-splitting noise in her head was crushing her. Even when she threw up in the car, Collins continued to drive recklessly, putting her life and that of their child in danger. Holding on tight as they flew round the corner, she saw the flicker of a blue light in the distance. Kate had caught up with them.
India 99 picked up the commentary: ‘Target vehicle is being driven at speeds in excess of seventy mph heading into Riversdale, driving on both sides of the road, causing absolute mayhem. Pedestrians at risk. I have a visual on police vehicle Hotel-Four-Seven west of my location. Make your way half a mile ahead and stop on Redesmouth Road preventing his exit through Bellingham.’
‘Affirmative,’ came the reply.
‘Delta-Three-Two-Six. If you can stop at Boat Road in case he legs it towards the B6320. He’s got nowhere else to go.’
‘Roger that.’
Cole again: ‘Target is going to have to bail, Control. Suggest the dog man alights his vehicle at the cricket club. Looks like he may head across country.’
Chris couldn’t keep the car straight on the road. He was off his head with nowhere to go. Unwilling to listen to reason, he carried on, way past caring about Beth. He was yelling again, wanting details of the assault and Elliott’s part in it, hell-bent on receiving an admission that she was meeting him, that they were more than friends.
‘That’s not right,’ Beth yelled.
‘Tell me the truth—’
‘We were mates!’
He carried on baiting her, haranguing her. She was shaking violently. The shock of what happened in the cut would never leave her. The shock of what was happening now was almost worse. Collins’ heartless reaction was why she’d failed to confide in her father, the police generally. She couldn’t take the finger-pointing, accusations and disbelief. She’d told Kate she would stand up and tell her story to protect other girls from guys like Gardner – it’s what her mother should have done – but Beth wasn’t sure she could go there now.
Cole saw, rather than heard, the crash from the air. ‘Target vehicle in collision with another car, Control. Driving recklessly. Children at risk. He’s losing it. He’s crashed. He’s crashed. Ambulance required.’
‘Roger that, India 99.’
Beth was unconscious; her body slumped across Collins as he came round. Dazed, he pushed her off, struggling to open the door and to get out, blood streaming down his face. He took off on foot as the Audi came into view.
‘India 99 to Control: We have a runner. Seven-Eight-Two-Four arriving on scene.’
‘That’s received, India 99.’
Kate screamed to a stop, jumped out of her vehicle and ran towards Collins, shouting at nursery school teachers to move the children away. Hank ran the other way towards the car. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate could see him gathering Beth up in his arms, lifting her from danger. She was shocked and dazed, but coming round.
She was alive.
Relief flooded through Kate – and then the worst sight imaginable. Beyond a pile of rubble that used to be the wall of the Riverside Private Nursery School, toddlers had stopped playing and were running screaming to their teachers. A few feet away – to the left and in the foreground – Kate saw an upturned trike, its wheel still turning, next to a child’s scuffed green shoe.
‘Oh God!’ A sob caught in her throat.
One of the teachers was staring at something Kate couldn’t see. She didn’t want to look, even though she was obliged to. Her imagination took over, macabre images flashing before her eyes: flowers, soft toys and teddies on the pavement. Distressed teachers. Inconsolable parents. Heartbroken kids. The noise of the helicopter hovering above drowned out the silent scream in her head.
‘India 99 to Control: Please advise Seven-Eight-Two-Four that the child casualty is with an adult and has nothing more than a bloody knee. Breathe, Kate. The boy is OK. He’s OK.’
He’s OK.
Tears stung Kate’s eyes. She was beginning to recover when Collins grabbed the one child who’d been left behind when the others were ushered into the nursery school yard. He gave the DCI a long hard stare, his crazy eyes full of malice.
He was desperate.
Kate was too.
Hank froze, Beth still in his arms.
‘Don’t do it,’ he yelled. ‘You’re in enough trouble!’
‘He’s right,’ Kate said. ‘Chris, if you’re going to make a run for it, you’ll be a lot quicker without her. Let her go and I promise I’ll do my very best for you. You have my word on that.’
Collins laughed.
He glanced at the little girl. Shoving her away, he staggered onto the bridge and leapt onto the parapet, swaying as he looked down at the North Tyne. The river was flowing fast over the weir after a period of heavy rain. Kate held her breath. Seconds later he was gone. Kate flinched, her whole body shuddering at the thought of him crashing onto the rocks below. Peering over the edge, she watched his body float downstream, turning the water red.
74
Whether Collins had leapt from the bridge to escape the law or commit suicide was unclear. He’d been spotted in the North Tyne, just south of Boat Road, by a K9 called Sophie – fished out by her handler – alive, fortunately. In time, he’d stand trial for murder, abduction and serious driving offences. Given his record, Kate suspected that he’d spend the rest of his life inside a secure unit of some kind, if not prison.
Beth’s suffering went on . . .
In the few short hours since she’d been missing, a message had filtered through to MIT that her mother had died. When Kate gave her condolences, the teenager had been stoical. She was a gutsy kid, primed by palliative carers for the inevitable, able to draw comfort from the fact that Diane Casey’s last hours were peaceful and that she’d passed away unaware of the drama taking place on a lonely stretch of road elsewhere in Northumberland.
Kate was less well prepared to deal with critical illness. Her father’s coronary had come out of the blue. Back on intensive care, he’d come through the operation unscathed. Mr Rai, the surgeon, had assured her that the prognosis was favourable. He had every confidence that Ed Daniels would make a full recovery, although he still looked very poorly indeed. The next twenty-four hours would be tricky, she’d been warned.
It felt like déjà vu, watching over him in the small hours. The last time she’d done it, Jo had been by her side. This time Hank had come along to offer support. Taking hold of her hand, he squeezed it gently. They were both dog-tired.
‘Did you know the name Elsdon is derived from Elli’s Valley?’ he asked.
‘No, I didn’t.’ She turned to face him. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Lisa found a reference to it on the Internet.’
‘Anglo-Saxon?’
‘Apparently. A fitting tribute to Elliott, don’t you think?’
She nodded. Whatever the story, the name Elli would always remind her of a gay Cumberland wrestler who’d died too young, caught up in one loser’s savagery and another’s psychosis.
How unlucky was it possible to be?
Sensitive to her sorrow, Hank changed the subject. ‘Have you decided what to do about Atkins?’ he asked.
‘No.’ Her eyes were back on her father: the tubes, the wires and the team of nurses fussing over him. Right now, she didn’t want to think about anyone but him. Thunder rumbled overhead. Kate looked up at the ceiling as the lights flickered slightly. A nurse reassured her that backup generators would kick in should the power f
ail.
‘Y’know, much as I hate his guts,’ Hank said, ‘there are two ways to play your hand with Atkins. I agree with Naylor. Beth is going to need him. More than that, she’s going to need his money. Much as I’d love you to leave him without a bean to his name, there’s an alternative.’
‘Which is?’ Kate could see him scheming.
‘I know you’d like to pull his fingernails out one by one, but that’s illegal and I’d advise against it. You could still call the shots and give him a chance of redemption.’
‘Oh yeah? I’d like to know how.’
‘You let him choose. Tell him you’re going to expose him unless he steps down. He’s got enough years in to take his pension and move on. That way he leaves quietly with his reputation intact.’
‘What reputation?’
‘Precisely. What use is he to the force anyhow? Who’d work with him? I wouldn’t. Not one detective I’ve spoken to would. If you take up my suggestion, Beth doesn’t have to suffer but he gets his comeuppance. It’ll hurt him because he won’t get the job he wants either.’
‘That’s your idea of a choice?’
‘Put up or shut up works for me.’ He pulled a crazy face.
Who knew that the voice of reason would come from Hank? Kate wasn’t convinced that Bright would go for it. He wanted Atkins to suffer. A lot. And, if she were being honest, so did she. There were no guarantees that he’d help his daughter and his bullying would go unpunished, a thought she shared with Hank. ‘Listen to yourself,’ she added. ‘You’re acting like judge, jury and bloody executioner.’
‘Someone has to.’
She gave him the evil eye.
‘C’mon!’ he said. ‘It’s not as if you haven’t seen it before. Some arse walks rather than bringing the force into disrepute. It’s everyday politics. The allegation you made as a rookie on its own will sink him. Wave it in front of his face and he’ll be eating out of your hand in no time. You’re in a strong position, Kate. Tell him the deal is off unless he signs a percentage of his commutation over to Beth.’
