by Gary Weston
Debbie said, 'Poppy. Fred will be back. You'll see. I don't pretend to know what's happened to him, but I can tell you this. Fred loves you more than anything. Anybody can see that.'
'I don't doubt that,' said Poppy. 'And in a way, that's what scares me the most. We love each other. He hasn't left me for another woman. I never thought that for a minute. So what is so terrible he has felt the need to leave the woman he loves so much behind, terrified out of her wits?'
Bernie sighed. 'You've mirrored my own thoughts. Him not even contacting you...' He was interrupted by the phone ringing and he got up from the table to take the call. The women stared at him, hoping it was Ducket. It wasn't.
'Dale. Oh? But I thought...?' He turned to look at Debbie and Poppy. 'Yes, Dale. Rope in Morris and Crowe. Right. I'll see you first thing. Goodnight.'
'Uncle Bernie?'
'Sorry. Nothing to do with Fred. There's been another extortion demand for another building.'
Debbie said,' But I thought those people were all dead?'
'So did I,' said Bernie. 'So did I.'
Chapter 9
The chaos was barely controlled. The daylight had gone half an hour before the demands had been made. Hancock had his Tactical Enforcers in place surrounding the Queensway Hotel. It was prime real estate having had a facelift worth millions. Cleverly targeted, as was the Petrolex building, it was out of the city centre, close to the airport, with a private recreational lake offering unique ways to relax and unwind that other large hotels could only be envious of.
The two hundred room hotel had been purchased and the new owners had wanted it completely upgraded. It was as prime as it got and the new owners realised that. It was one week away from being reopened. Huge lights lit up the huge hotel from all four sides including the rear which backed onto a lake.
Two police launches patrolled the lake, their searchlights covering the rear and the manicured lawns, tennis courts and putting green. Liam Goldstein wasn't prepared to see his beautiful hotel destroyed and he was telling D I Andersen just that.
'Inspector. We all know what happened to the Petrolex building. This has been nearly two years in the planning. I say we negotiate.'
Andersen said, 'Mr Goldstein. We are not ruling that out. Normally I would advise against dealing, but considering what happened last time, we have to be open to anything giving us a positive result. We have to find a way to deal with them. Have they contacted you since the first call?'
'No. Twenty million is their demand. My brother and I have already called our insurance company and got nothing but waffle and back peddling. They class it as an act of terrorism. They say they want to see the police handle things and it's our choice to pay up or not. I do not want to be in the position of seeing my lovely hotel die and have the insurance company wash their hands of things. Either you police get our hotel back in one piece, or we pay the money and get on with our business.'
'I understand, Mr Goldstein,' said Andersen. 'Believe me. We want the gang behind bars and your hotel in one piece. How are you supposed to contact them?'
'No instructions on how the money is to paid have yet been given. Once we agree, they say they will contact my brother and I. David is at home waiting for their call. We have been given midnight tonight as the deadline and they have threatened to destroy it if we refuse to pay. And I think we know what happened to the last building they took over.'
'This is our dilemma Mr Goldstein. We are almost certain this is a different gang. The ones in the Petrolex job were killed in the explosion. Had to be.'
Suddenly a burst of gunfire from the hotel made everyone dive for cover. It was a short lived spray of bullets, that thudded into the ground well short of the surrounding police officers. It was just a wake up call.
'They seem pretty bloody lively to me,' said Goldstein, walking off to his Bentley to call his brother.
Andersen had resigned himself to another long night. Morris and Crowe joined him.
Morris said, 'Are we just going to spend the night being shot at?'
Andersen asked,'What's Hancock say?'
'Keep them surrounded for as long as it takes. If they want to come out, they do it with their hands in the air. Oh. And he says if anyone mentions overtime pay, he's going home.'
Crowe said, 'He'll not be risking any of his men in chopper drops onto the roof this time. Can't say I blame him.'
Andersen said, 'He's playing it safe. The Goldstein brothers are for dealing with them. If they do that, it doesn't mean we all go home and let them walk away with millions.' He checked his watch. 'We have nearly two and a half hours before the Goldstein's have to make the deal or not. Any progress finding Ducket?'
Morris said, 'We have a couple of kids...I mean young detectives, trying to get into Old Cranky. Nothing so far. Vince made an interesting comment, though. The Ferret doesn't want us looking for him. The complete lack of any clue is an indication of that.'
Another burst of gunfire had them diving behind a Tactical vehicle.
Andersen growled, 'Those creeps are really beginning to piss me off.'
Chapter 10
There was no more gunfire from the windows of the hotel. Andersen had talked on the phone to the Goldstein brothers. They were adamant the best way out was to pay the money and get on with their lives. They had talked to the top executive at their insurance company, trying to strike a compromise about who would pay out what. The brothers had tried a fifty fifty compromise for agreeing the twenty million payout against many millions more for the value of the hotel, should it be blown up. All they got was a vague comment about not setting a precedent by dealing and to leave it up to the police to resolve the situation.
To the frustrated brothers, this was wasn't helpful and after making promises to change their insurance company, regardless of outcome, they decided to pay out the money. Their bank manager had been informed, and the money was made available. They were going to deal.
Andersen, Crowe and Morris sat on deckchairs well out of range, staring at the lit up hotel. To keep his officers on their toes, Hancock had them rotating with each other on a regular basis and doing strange and seemingly unnecessary things to make sure they kept alert.
Morris yawned and checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. A Tactical officer approached him out of the shadows.
'Detective Morris?'
'Here,' said Morris.
'I have this for you.' The officer behind the dark visor handed Morris an envelope.
Morris took the envelope, opened it and read the four words. 'Shit. Hey. where did this come...from?' The fully armed and armoured officer had gone.
'Stan?' Andersen said.
Morris said, 'Here,' and passed the note over.
'Shit.' He read it aloud. 'The hotel is empty. F.'
They were on their feet and running to Hancock.
'What?' snapped the giant.
'This. The hotel is empty. F,' said Andersen.
Which was the exact second another volley of shots blasted the hotel lawns.
'That sound empty to you?' said Hancock.
'John, one of your officers just handed this over to us,' said Morris.
'Nope.'
Crowe said, 'John. Hello. Dressed in fashionable black Tactical armour, matching accessories like a helmet and a visor...Oh.'
'Kaching,' said Hancock. 'One of yours, dressed up as one of mine. That was the Ferret.'
Chapter 11
'Am I following this,' said Crowe, struggling to keep up. 'The one who gave us this note was Ferret?'
'F,' said Morris. 'Either Fred, or Ferret.'
'Right. So why didn't he just say, sorry I'm a bit late, guys. By the way. The hotel is empty.'
'Because,' said Andersen. 'He doesn't want us involved in what ever it is he's doing.'
'And it makes sense,' said Morris. 'Any bodies been found yet at the Petrolex site?'
'Not yet,' said Crowe.
'And that's because the building was empty. like
this one.'
'So who is doing the shooting?' Crowe asked.
Hancock said, 'A remote controlled weapon. The operator is out of the actual building, firing at the press of a button.'
'So why blow up the first one, the Petrolex building?' Crowe asked.
Andersen said, 'Because the owner refused to cough up the money. Either that or just an accident.'
'We have just forty two minutes before the deadline,' said Morris. 'What do we do now?'
Hancock said, 'We could defuse the explosives.'
'How, exactly?' asked Andersen.
'We go inside, snip a few wires, job done,' said Hancock.
'Whose this we?' Crowe said. 'Are you kidding? Going into a building packed with explosives with a nut job with a finger on the button?'
'There aren't individual radio controlled triggers,' explained Hancock. 'Trust me on that. There will be a control unit, controlled by a radio frequency. There'll be wires from that sending a low current to detonators and boom. We just need to find the central control. It will completely disarm all the explosives.'
Andersen said, 'There are over two hundred rooms in that place. We have...forty three minutes and you want us to go in there?'
'We can do this,' said Hancock.
'There's that we again,' said Crowe. 'I really gotta read my employment contract one of these days.'
'Question. In fact two questions,' said Morris. 'One. We can't turn any lights on in there. They'll be watching. Also, how do we get across to the hotel lit up like a Christmas tree. Again. They'll be watching.'
Hancock said, 'We have night vision goggles. Carver.'
'Sir.'
'Four night vision goggles. Go.'
Carver was back in thirty five seconds with the helmets and Hancock handed three of them to the detectives. 'One size fits nobody. Now for the illuminations. Watch this.' He spoke into his helmet radio. 'Kill all the lights.' The huge searchlights going out made everything instantly dark. 'Do I go in alone, or do I have you suits for company?'
'Let's do this,' said Andersen.
Following the super-fit Hancock running effortlessly across the lawns to the rear of the hotel was the first challenge. Dodging in and out of the shadows, they were in pitch darkness and out of sight. All three suits were panting like they had run a marathon.
'How...How...How do we get inside?' gasped Andersen.
One well planted boot at a service door answered that question. They were inside. It took a moment to acclimatise to the night vision goggles. Hancock dropped low ready to shoot anything that moved. 'Nobody not pleased to see us. I like that.' He raced through the rooms and then stopped by a front facing window. 'Check this out.'
'Wow,' said Crowe, taking a closer look. It was a box, simple on the outside, a whole world of tricks on the inside. The adapted automatic assault rifle pointed out of the window. It was on a loose swivel that allowed the weapon to move with the repercussion force of each shot, giving the illusion of being controlled by a human. A crude cardboard cutout of a man's head and shoulders enhancing that illusion. 'That is a serious piece of...' The weapon suddenly blasted several shots off, and Crowe fell backwards to the floor. 'Shit!'
'You okay?' said Morris.
'I'll let you know if my heart starts beating again.'
Hancock was on his radio again. 'All lights on. Repeat. All lights on.' A few seconds later, all the searchlights were back on. 'Hopefully, they'll just think it was a generator glitch, now fixed.'
An unhappy Crowe asked, 'How do we find this central trigger?'
Hancock said, 'There'll be a thin wire going to each load of explosives. We just need to find one load, and trace the wire to the central control. My guess is the charges will be in all the corners, so the strong points would be weakened, causing maximum damage. I'll take this floor. You each take another floor. Check the corners and outer walls more than anything. You have radios in your helmets. Find anything, stay put, radio in. We'll all hear each other. Go.'
The detectives raced up the stairs, peeling off one by one as they reached the other floors. The minutes were ticking away. They only had twenty seven minutes left. They were in a hotel packed with high explosives, with a man hidden in the shadows, his itchy finger ready to blow them to kingdom come if the Goldstein's changed their minds and refused to pay up.
'I must be out of my skull,' mumbled Crowe. Back and forth he went, checking all the walls, especially the corners. 'Where the hell are those bloody explosives?'
'Nineteen minutes, people,' came Hancock's voice in his helmet.
'You're a frigging ray of sunshine,' Crowe replied.
The search continued, unsuccessfully. 'Hey,' said Morris. 'Is it possible there are no explosives in here?'
'Possible,' said Hancock. 'Keep looking.'
The men kept searching, conscious of the seconds ticking away. 'Fourteen minutes,' said Hancock.
'I think we should bail out of here,' said Crowe.
'Go if you want, Vince,' said Hancock.
'As if. Hey. I have a wire. Coming out of a vent. The explosives are inside the vents. Shit.'
'Stay put,' said Hancock. The man mountain bounded up the stairs to find Crowe.
'Here,' said Crowe. 'I almost missed it. Blue tacked into the corner and along the skirting board.'
Hancock got down on his knees for a closer look at where the wire was going. 'This way.' It was slow work with such a thin wire running along the lip of the skirting board. 'Damn. Lost it.'
'Here,' said Crowe. 'This way.'
Morris and Andersen appeared and they helped trace the wire. It went down the stairs, still along the skirting board. They followed it down several flights of stairs, often on their hands and knees, finally reaching the ground floor.
'Crap. I lost it,' said Crowe.
'Four minutes,' said Hancock. 'I have it. This way.'
There was a narrow service stairs going down to a basement. Andersen said, 'It goes under the door, right here.' He tried the door. 'Locked. Can you believe this?'
'This door opens towards us. Can't kick it in,' said Hancock. 'Stand back.' He blasted the lock with several shots. He grabbed the handle and pulled hard. There was a grinding noise as shattered wood and lock resisted his efforts. 'Come on, damn it.' The door gave in and creaked open. 'One minute. Find the controls.'
'A handful of wires here,' said Morris. 'And bingo. They all end up right here.'
'Outa my way,' growled Hancock. He reached into the controls, grabbed a handful of wires and pulled hard until they all yielded.
'Got them all?' asked Morris.
'We might just find out in five, four, three, two...'
There was a clicking sound in the middle of the controls as from somewhere, a remotely controlled button was pushed and the triggers were activated. They closed their eyes and prayed. Nothing went boom.
'Yeah. It looks like I got them all.'
Totally exhausted, the four men made their way outside. As they crossed the lawns to where the others waited, Andersen's phone went off. 'Andersen. Mr Goldstein. Is that right? You and your brother decided not to pay up after all. No shit. Yeah. I'm cool with that. Goodnight, Mr Goldstein.'
Chapter 12
'The Ferret? You saw him?'
'Yes, Chief,' said Andersen. 'At least we are fairly sure it was him. He was wearing a Tactical uniform. We didn't see his face.'
'And he gave you this note?'
Morris said, 'He gave it to me, Sir. Then he sort of vanished again.'
'What the hell is he playing at?' said the Chief.
Crowe said, 'I think he took time out from whatever he's doing to tell us that he'd figured out what was really happening at the hotel.'
Andersen added, 'Saving millions in damage.'
'Sounds like him,' said Bernie. 'I have to tell Poppy.'
Andersen said, 'Chief. He must have a reason for not doing that himself.'
'My Niece is crying herself to sleep every night, Dale. She's a mess. I have
to tell her at least that her husband is alive and still saving the world.'
'You have to be the judge of that one.'
'I will. Have you heard anything from Andy Carter yet?'
Andersen said, 'The Scene of Crime Team are still at it in the hotel. Andy called me ten minutes ago. Nothing to hang a hat on yet.'
'Hardly surprising,' said the Chief. 'This gang is very professional, but if anyone can find anything, Carter can. Think they'll strike again?'
'I do,' said Andersen. 'They've come away empty handed so far. My guess is they will rethink their tactics and try something a little different.'
Morris said, 'My concern is that they'll be more determined to make their efforts pay and they might do something rash and things could get nasty.'
Crowe added, 'I tell you something for nothing. I for one won't be walking into a building wired to blow up again. So if anyone asks me, be prepared for disappointment.'
'Too right,' said the Chief. 'In future, leave the heroics to Tactical. You three stay right out of action like that.'
'No worries, Chief,' said Crowe, relieved to hear the Old Man say that.
The Chief got up. 'Dale. Work with Carter and keep me in the loop with anything significant. If you're just hanging around though, concentrate on finding Ducket. I'm off home to talk to Poppy. God only knows how that's going to go. '
Chapter 13
The Chief changed into his jeans and sweatshirt and transformed himself into Uncle Bernie. The two characters were usually well defined, but sometimes the lines were blurred. This was one of those times. His partner Debbie was out at work, so it was just him and Poppy at home. His niece was at the dining table, staring at her laptop.
'Coffee?'
'Hmm? Oh, yes please.' She hadn't taken her eyes off the screen.
Bernie took two coffees to the table and sat with her. 'Working on a website design?'
'Just checking emails.' It had been the third time in the last hour she had checked them.
'Anything?'
'Nothing. Not from Fred, anyway.' She turned the computer off and closed the lid.
