‘And Sian,’ Drake said as she popped her head back in the car. ‘Be careful. Don’t take any risks.’
‘Boss.’ Sian nodded.
Zipping up their jackets, they both began to survey the car park. The wind picked up and litter blew noisily past them and up the grass bank.
‘You okay?’ Merringer asked.
‘Fine. Let’s just get the bastard this time.’
Sian’s radio crackled. ‘All units, search of service station complete. No sign of suspect or target.’ CID officers had found nothing, which seemed to imply Gates was outside somewhere, possibly in the car park.
‘Shit!’ Sian said as they moved forwards, scanning left and right for an indication of anything out of the ordinary.
‘Anything?’ Merringer asked.
‘Nothing. Where are they?’ Sian prayed that they hadn’t missed them.
Something in the corner of Sian’s eye caught her attention. A dark-blue van was parked on the far side of the car park, right in the corner. It might have been just her suspicious thinking, but given the spaces closer to the service station, the van looked like it had been parked there to keep out of the way or out of sight.
She clicked her radio. ‘DC Hockney to Central. PNC plate check requested on a vehicle, licence sierra-charlie-five-two, yankee-oscar-tango.’
Merringer looked over at the van and the writing on its side. Pulling out his phone, he tapped the words into Google as he read aloud, ‘Williams Builders, over twenty-five years’ experience from design to build ... Branches in Rhyl, Colwyn Bay, Llundudno ... and Betws-y-Coed.’
They shared a look.
‘Betws-y-Coed?’ Sian said.
‘The burnt-out Escort van,’ Merringer said, confirming Sian’s thoughts.
Changing course quickly, they moved across the car park while trying not to draw attention to themselves. The van was now thirty metres away to their right. Pretending to have a conversation with Merringer, Sian stole a look over his shoulder. There was no one in the driver or passenger seat.
Sian’s radio crackled. ‘Central to DC Hockney. PNC plate check complete. Vehicle is a dark-blue Citroën Relay van. Registered to Williams Builders Ltd in Rhyl.’
‘Control, received,’ Sian replied.
Gesturing to Merringer that they needed to take a closer look at the van, Sian moved across the wet parking bays. There was a clanking sound coming from somewhere.
By the time they got twenty yards away, it was clear that the clanking sound was coming from the back of the van. Something or someone was moving around in the back of the van and knocking against the metallic side door.
Sian craned her neck as she listened closely. Another sound. The whimper of a woman or a girl. There were no words, just a noise as though someone was trying to speak but couldn’t.
‘Can you hear that?’ Sian asked Merringer as her pulse quickened. If someone was tied up and gagged in the back of the van, then they would be moving around trying to get free, banging the door and trying to shout for help through their gag.
‘Someone’s in there,’ Merringer said.
It was Ella. Sian knew it was her and her heart suddenly pounded. What she didn’t know was if Gates was in the van too. She couldn’t take that risk.
Sian and Merringer scuttled out of sight as she clicked her radio and said quietly, ‘All units from DC Hockney. There is a dark-blue Citroën van in the far-right-hand corner of the car park. Licence sierra-charlie-five-two, yankee-oscar-tango. We believe suspect and target could be inside the vehicle. Request back-up.’
CHAPTER 35
It was dark by the time Ruth arrived at Borthrodyn Holiday Park. As it was closed this time of year, she had parked some way along the country road from where the entrance to the park was positioned. She had assumed that any light, especially car headlights, might warn Gates that someone was around.
However, the darkness of North Wales was something that Ruth still hadn’t got used to. She had spent nearly half a century in London, where the lights of the city went on for ever and the sky was never dark. Tonight, she had certainly underestimated the utter blackness of night-time. In her mind, the cabins and caravans would be black shapes against the sky and the pathways would be highlighted by the moon. They weren’t. She peered into the darkness, which seemed to press at her from every side. It was blacker than inside a coffin, as her grandfather used to say.
Closing her eyes, she willed her daughter to be all right. What she would give to have her in her arms at that very moment. Anything and everything. Please God, bring her back to me.
As she tripped again, Ruth took the torch she had brought with her from her pocket. It had a Swiss Army knife attached to the strap. Sarah had bought it for her when they went to Glastonbury in 2005. ‘Torch, bottle opener and corkscrew – that’s all we’ll need,’ Sarah had joked.
She clicked on the torch and used her hand to dampen the light as much as she could. She stopped and listened intently for any sound. There was absolute stillness. No air stirred the grass or trees. An eerie feeling of tranquillity heightened her senses in the dark.
In those frozen seconds, she heard the crunch of dried twigs underfoot. It came from the wood behind her. Then there was nothing. Straining her hearing, she froze and listened again. Nothing. Just her imagination?
Continuing to walk cautiously forwards, she soon came to the far border of the park, which was marked with a ten-foot wire fence. As the moon slid from behind the clouds for a few seconds, Ruth could see that, beyond the fence, the land fell away downhill very steeply. Where it ended, there was an enormous sheer drop, which she assumed to be a beach or the sea below. The moonlight dappled the dark sea that stretched away, but then as the clouds returned, the whole view was plunged into a murky darkness again.
Turning back, Ruth surveyed the holiday park. The stillness of the air seemed to suck every sound into the nothingness. She narrowed her eyes looking for the smallest hint of light or movement. Still nothing. Dejected didn’t quite describe the extent of her feelings. She had trusted her instincts, and they had let her down.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she unlocked it, no longer worried about the light from her screen. It was a text from Sian:
We’ve found a van. I’m sure Ella’s in it. Not sure where Gates is. Waiting for AROs. I’ll ring as soon as I know anything. Love you xx
At last they had some good news. Tracking the phone had proved to be the right decision. A feeling of utter helplessness swept over her. The very thought of Ella tied up inside a van that was surrounded by armed police officers horrified her. All she could do now was drive home and await further news.
Letting the full beam of her torch flood over the park, Ruth set about returning to her car. There was a distant noise from the far-right-hand side of the park. It sounded like door closing. Maybe it was nothing.
And then as the wintry breeze swirled, she could smell something familiar. Cigarette smoke. But not ordinary cigarette smoke. Menthol cigarette smoke. And there was only one person she had come into contact with recently that smoked menthol cigarettes.
Andrew Gates.
THE CAR PARK AT THE far end of the service station was now deserted. Police officers had been quietly moving cars and members of the public away from the area of the van for about ten minutes. Sian watched as the teams worked in a low-key and calm manner. They didn’t want to alert whoever was in the van to their presence.
A call had come through to Drake minutes earlier. The GPS trace on Gwenda Chadwick’s phone had been pinpointed to the end of the car park where the van was parked. They were certain now. Gates was in that van with Ella.
Sian, Merringer and Drake had put on their Kevlar stab vests from the back of the car. Sian liked the tight feeling around her torso. It made her feel safe and protected. Other officers from Llancastell CID and one of the ARO units moved into positions behind bins and long four-foot hedgerows that ran along the top of the empty parking bays. It was silent except f
or the distant noise of traffic. Sian could feel the tension in her stomach and her adrenaline pumping. She had never been on an armed operation of this scale before. She just wanted to get Ella out safely.
The sky above her was dark except for a blinking red dot as an aeroplane went over them obliviously. Passengers tucking into food and drink, watching a movie, unaware of what was going on thirty thousand feet below them. Her face and ears stung in the cold wind. Wriggling her toes, she tried to get the circulation going as her feet began to numb. Close by, she could see the new electricity pumps for electric or hybrid cars. A green Union Flag was emblazoned on the side of the pumps to show off their eco-friendly status.
Drake smoothed some drizzle off the bald crown of his head. He was the senior-ranking officer and leading the operation. He looked at her for a moment. His eyes and expression were calm. For about five minutes now the movement and noise from the van had stopped. ‘I can’t hear anything, can you?’ he asked her.
Sian shook her head. Was it worrying that the movements and whimpering had stopped? Had Gates done something to Ella to keep her quiet? Or had Ella injured herself while trying to free herself? ‘No, boss. Nothing for a few minutes.’
Drake frowned as he craned his neck to listen. Still nothing. His frown turned to a look of concern. He silently gestured to the four AROs, dressed in their black Nomex boots, gloves and Kevlar helmets over balaclavas, to approach the van. Carrying Glock 9mm pistols, they edged in a low crouched position towards the side of the van where the sliding door was positioned. They stopped and squatted, two either side of the door.
Sian calculated that there must have been a dozen firearms within a fifty-yard radius of the van. No one was taking any chances with Gates.
Drake clicked his radio. ‘Three-seven to all units. Officers in position at target vehicle.’
The radio crackled back. ‘Three-seven received.’
Drake gestured to Sian and Merringer. They moved in unison over the icy parking bays. It was now radio silence.
Suddenly, the noises from within the van started again. Someone was moving around. A noisy metallic bang is if someone had kicked the side panel. The whine of a female voice. More movement.
We need to move now, Sian thought, her anxiety twisting her insides.
Drake gave the AROs the signal to get the sliding door of the van open. Still crouching, the ARO took a K-tool, which can remove the core of a lock in seconds, and with his black-gloved hands working skilfully, pulled the metallic lock out of the door without a sound.
They were on.
Sian held her breath as Drake signalled to the AROs to make their move. She flinched as the side door was pulled open. Crash!
The AROs sprang into action, weapons trained in front of them.
‘Armed police!’ they bellowed. ‘Armed police!’
Sian couldn’t see what was going on for a moment. There was a terrible female scream. Her heart pounded in her chest.
The AROs moved back. As Sian approached, she could see a naked couple on a mattress cowering under a blanket. They looked terrified.
‘Sir, there’s no sign of the suspect or target,’ an ARO said.
‘For fuck’s sake!’ Drake growled to no one in particular.
Where was Ella? How had they got this so wrong?
Going around to the back doors of the van, Drake opened them angrily. He began to root around as Sian joined him.
A moment later, Drake pulled something from under a tool bag and showed it to Sian.
It was Gwenda Chadwick’s mobile phone.
CHAPTER 36
For the last ten minutes, Ruth had tried to follow the direction of where she thought the cigarette smoke had come from. It was virtually impossible, but she was guessing somewhere to the right of where she had been standing. She had been right all along. Gates was in the park somewhere, and so was Ella.
Using her torch as little as she could, she crept down beside one of the static caravans, heading for the right-hand side of the park. The aluminium and hardboard structures groaned quietly in the wind. If she hadn’t been so pumped full of adrenaline, it would have been creepy.
Ducking in and out of the rows of statics, she had no idea if she was making progress. For all she knew, she was heading in the wrong direction.
Then as she turned into another row of caravans, she spotted the faintest flicker of light up ahead. She couldn’t work out what it was. As she approached, she could see the glass window of a caravan that had an orange glimmer on it. Then as her eyes focussed, she realised what it was. The orange flickering in the glass was a reflection. Someone in the opposite caravan had a candle burning. It was throwing out a shimmering orange pattern of light.
It was Gates. She knew it. She just hoped Ella was all right.
The clouds parted again and the moonlight now made everything visible. Bloody divine intervention, she thought.
Moving quietly down the side of the static caravan, she put her hand on the cold wooden balustrade and handrail of the decking out front. She pulled herself up on her tiptoes to get a better look. There was definitely more than one candle. The glow permeated the whole interior of the caravan.
Suddenly, a shadow crossed in front of the light, moving past the window. The figure then stopped in a small kitchen and picked up a kettle from the hob. The candlelight silhouetted the figure, throwing huge shadows on the wall behind.
The figure turned into the light. She saw a face in the orange glow.
Andrew Gates. Now bearded and wearing a baseball cap, but she would know him anywhere.
Ducking down, Ruth’s mind raced. Where was Ella? How was she going to get her out of there? Her head said she should move away and phone for back-up. She looked at her phone. It was the far end of the park and there was no signal. That made her mind up for her. She was going in. She refused to leave her daughter in that kind of danger and terror any longer.
Crouching below the level of the balustrade, Ruth crept back along the side of the caravan. Her pulse thudded loudly in her eardrum.
She spotted a side door with a silver lever handle. It was a way in. Then there was a large window that ran along the rest of the caravan and was where most of the candlelight was coming from.
Scurrying along on her hands, she peaked through the wooden spindles. Someone was on a chair facing into what looked like the main living space.
Ella. Her beautiful daughter. Her mouth was gagged and her hands tied behind her back.
Ruth’s whole body shook for a moment with the shock of seeing her daughter like that. It was a maternal instinct. She took a breath to steady herself. Keep it together, Ruth. Focus.
Scurrying around to the front of the caravan, she could see there was another entrance. Hoping Gates was preoccupied in the kitchen area, she tiptoed up the short stairs to the door. They creaked noisily and she froze for a moment. Taking the last two steps in one movement, she reached the door.
She crouched and moved the handle down quietly, trying to ease it open. It was locked. Jesus! Now what?
Time was running out. Her eyes flitted around, looking for something to use. On the decking beside her was a smooth grey ornamental rock the size of a fist. She grabbed the rock and then took off her coat. Her heart was beating so fast that she didn’t even feel the cold December night air. Placing her padded coat against the glass, she tapped the rock against the coat and glass, building the force of each tap. It was a trick she had learnt years ago in Streatham CID. Feeling the glass eventually crack, she pulled the coat away and put it back on. Some small pieces of the door’s glass had dropped to the other side but had made no noise. A carpet or a doormat, she assumed.
She swiftly pulled the shards of glass from the door, placing them carefully onto the decking. Pushing her arm through the small hole she had created, a spike of glass scratched and then cut her forearm. She didn’t have time to care.
Gritting her teeth, she continued to move her arm downwards. The cut was getting deeper,
but she focussed on what she needed to find. Then her finger felt it. A cold metal key. Thank God! She turned it quietly. It clicked as she unlocked the door. Great. Step one was done.
Pushing the door open, she saw Ella looking directly at her, wide-eyed. Ruth put her finger to her lips even though she knew Ella wasn’t stupid. Edging across the floor, she reached Ella and removed her gag. She looked at Ella’s hands which were tied behind the chair’s back. Without undoing the rope, there was no way of getting Ella free. Ruth fumbled with the knots for a moment.
‘Do you want to use this?’ a voice said loudly.
She spun to see Gates standing a few feet away with a large kitchen knife.
‘I came on my own,’ Ruth said, trying to buy time and sound as calm as she could.
‘But you weren’t going to stay to say hello, were you? And that’s not polite, Ruth, is it?’
Ruth put her hand in her coat pocket and quickly located the Swiss Army knife. However, she couldn’t seem to open anything on it with one hand. ‘I thought you wanted to talk?’
‘I think we’re past talking, aren’t we?’
‘Are we?’ Ruth used her thumbnail to ease the corkscrew out of the knife, ready for action. She just needed to distract him for a moment. And then it came to her. ‘Do you want to talk about Heidi, Andrew?’
Gates’s face and body immediately stiffened and he glared at her. ‘What? Heidi? What the hell do you know about Heidi?’ he thundered, gripping the knife tightly in his trembling hand.
Just the reaction that Ruth wanted. Gates was now distracted.
‘I thought you might want to talk about her. It’s so sad what happened,’ Ruth continued.
‘How dare you talk about Heidi!’ Gates roared as his eyes blinked.
‘It happened here, in this park, didn’t it?’ Ruth asked.
‘How do you know all this?’ Gates asked, thrown by what Ruth was asking him.
In that split second, Ruth made her move. Bringing out her clenched fist, she had positioned the corkscrew so that it protruded between her forefinger and middle finger. She lunged forwards and swung it upwards at Gates’s throat before he could react.
The Dee Valley Killings Page 26