The George Elms Trilogy Box Set
Page 24
Jenny snatched at her seatbelt. In her haste it stopped short. She tutted and pulled it again. ‘What the hell is going on, Joseph? You have to tell me. Are we in some sort of trouble?’
She gave up on her seatbelt. They made it to a junction at the bottom of the steep hill. Jenny saw a sign that said Folkestone Road. The flow of cross traffic was relentless. Joseph had turned away from her, looking at the stream of cars coming from their right. The car was rolling further into it; there were no gaps and Joseph was starting to make noises that could almost be described as whimpers. Still holding her seatbelt, Jenny looked back to check on Isobel. She noticed a figure running towards them along the pavement on the opposite side. He wore a long, black coat and his right arm was tucked underneath it. The car bounced forward a metre as Joseph tried to bully his way onto the main road. Jenny’s head rocked and she lost sight of the man.
That was when Joseph’s window blew in.
It sounded to Jenny like an explosion. She had wrapped her arm around the driver’s seat for leverage, so she could lift herself enough to see into Isobel’s seat. She dropped back into the seat as her right forearm flashed with a stinging pain. Joseph cried out, the car lurched forward and Jenny was pushed against the headrest. She could hear car horns blaring and Joseph shouting at her to get down. The car was rammed from the rear, just enough for her to feel it. She heard more car horns and then the revving of the engine.
‘ISSY! Jesus, Joe! Issy!’ She pulled herself onto her knees, clinging to her seat back and facing the back seat. The car swerved suddenly and Joseph overtook something. She tried to lean into the seat back. She could see just enough of Isobel. Her tiny arms and legs wriggled and contorted in the air, as they did when she was confused and trying to understand her surroundings.
The back window popped inwards. In the same instant she could hear the air move, something fizzed past her ear and thudded into the roof lining. Instinctively she ducked back into her seat.
‘They’re shooting at us! Why are they shooting at us?’
Joseph’s cheek was rippled where he was biting down hard. The car swerved again, this time hard left at a roundabout — more angry car horns. Isobel was crying — at least Jenny knew she was breathing. Jenny spun in her seat to face forwards.
‘Joseph, talk to me! You need to pull over, we need to get Issy out of this car!’ Jenny was screaming. Joseph was still peering forward.
‘Joseph!’ She hit him on the arm. He had to brake hard and she was pushed forward in her seat. Issy screamed louder in the back. The car moved off at crawling pace; they were in two lanes of one-way traffic.
Joseph turned to face her. ‘We can’t stop.’ The right side of his face was slick with blood.
‘Joseph, you’re hurt!’
‘I’m fine. It’s a nick from the glass.’
‘A nick! You’re covered in blood.’ She reached out to gesture at his face with her right arm and saw that her sleeve was also soaked in blood. She tried to pull it up to inspect her arm; it felt boiling hot. She clenched her fist — it was still working at least. She would have to inspect it later.
‘What do these people want, Joseph? Jesus, what have you done?’ Joseph was peering forward. The car jerked and shuffled as he tried to move. Jenny could see both lanes of traffic were now at a standstill. They were in the right lane and there was a row of parked cars to their right and shop fronts the other side of them. People walked along, seemingly oblivious to the gunshots that had taken out Joseph’s window completely and left glass scattered over the parcel shelf.
When the left lane started moving, Joseph cut across immediately. Once more the horns blared but the lane was clearer and the car set off as if it had been stung. She could see green traffic lights ahead and a parked van that had been blocking the right lane. The left lane was clear and Joseph kept his foot planted.
Ahead, a car pulled out from a side street. Joseph was going too fast to brake in time so he wrenched the wheel right and changed lanes again. Jenny was thrown against the window. Isobel was now inconsolable in the back.
‘You’re going to kill us, Joseph!’ Jenny spun again in her seat, trying to get into a position where she could talk to their daughter. The car lurched forward and she was pressed back into her seat. She could see a black SUV behind, matching them for speed. It was in the other lane and now it seemed to be gaining on them.
‘They’re still chasing us, Joseph! What do they want?’
There was a jarring thud into the side of the car — then two more in quick succession. She felt the car lurch, as if the last blow had been a sucker punch. It skewed sideways as Joseph yelled out. Jenny was thrown to the front of the car and she struck something hard with her right side, and then came a savage blow to the side of her head. Suddenly, all she could hear was a whistling.
She faced out of the side window. She couldn’t move. The black SUV seemed to drift past in slow motion, part of a stream of traffic. She could only watch as a muzzle flared from the back window. She was aware of more thuds, the tinkle of glass, another shout from Joseph maybe. She watched the vehicle pass — and then its brake lights flashed red. More car horns, the black SUV stopped completely, a rear door pushed open. Jenny was transfixed.
‘Jenny!’ Her hearing returned all at once and the confusion came with it. Joseph was shouting in her ear, she snatched her head towards him. Isobel was crying at the top of her lungs from the back, it pierced her mind directly.
‘Joseph . . .’ It was all she could manage.
‘You have to go. You have to get Isobel out.’
‘What?’
‘Get out. You have to go. With Issy! GO!’
‘Aren’t you coming?’ Jenny felt dream-like still. Her voice was soft, she was confused by the pain in her side. Blood trickled into her mouth and she licked her lips.
‘They’re not here for you. Take her and go. Please! You have to run, Jenny!’
Jenny turned to her door. She pushed it open. Her hip shot with pain as she stepped out of the car, and there were pins and needles in her thigh. From the corner of her eye she saw someone walk towards her, he stepped off the pavement — a middle-aged man. She smiled at him as if it was all a dream.
‘You okay, love? Everyone okay?’ He looked into the back of the car. He must have been able to hear Isobel crying.
‘I have to go,’ she said.
She walked around to the pavement and pulled open the driver’s side rear door. She lifted Isobel to her chest and pulled her in tight, just how she liked it. She was still crying. Joseph looked out and he still looked panic stricken. His whole right side was a mass of blood, his hair was matted and what had once been a light blue, long-sleeved jumper was shredded against his arm and neck. The car had a scorched look, too: the whole door was a rash of black bits and dents. Movement caught her eye from the other side of the car, a man was walking directly towards them, towards the passenger seat she had just vacated. She looked back to Joseph.
‘Are you not coming?’ she said. Isobel was calming down a little. Joseph glanced over his left shoulder and then snatched his head back to her.
‘Run, Jenny!’
Jenny could feel his panic. The man was almost to the car when he extended an arm. There was a sound like a firecracker. Joseph flinched. He was looking away from her. Another firecracker — he flinched again.
‘What the hell?’ The middle-aged man shouted in her ear. He must have followed her and he now ducked in front of her. Suddenly Jenny’s mind un-fogged and everything was clear. She ran round the middle-aged man as she heard another bang! The middle-aged man cried out and she heard screams. She had Isobel clutched to her chest and she was crying. She blundered into the crowd, everyone was still; they were all either ducking or stooping but she could hear at least one set of footfalls behind her. And they were running too.
Jenny made it to the end of a row of shops. There was a gap for a narrow lane, then a chemist on the other side. She spun right into the lane. It was t
ight, and didn’t look wide enough for a car — or so she thought. A second later she knew she was wrong; a car engine revved behind her, then a noise like a tyre struggling to gain a grip. The pavements were suddenly gone and she had an eight-foot wall on her left and the brick side of a building on her right. There was nowhere to go but straight on. This road ahead was empty, there was no one else on foot and the only sounds, amplified by the high walls, were her footfalls and a revving engine.
She ran harder, her right arm so tight around Isobel that she was scared she might hurt her. In front, she could see the dull grey of a multi-storey car park. She sprang through the entrance, running around the barrier. She heard the screech of a car stopping, then the sound of its doors opening and closing. She ran through the car park until she burst out on the other side. In front of her was a small grass bank, well worn by foot traffic taking the same route. It led into a small retail park that contained a couple of supermarkets and a shop selling beds, clustered around yet another car park. Though the area was thronged with cars and people, she remembered the busy scene she had run from: the presence of other people hadn’t mattered then.
Jenny slowed to a walk and stooped, trying to lose herself among the parked cars. She made it to the car park entrance where a line of slow moving cars meandered slowly in a one-way system looking for parking places. She approached the first car she came to, walking in front of it and holding out her arm. The car stopped, but the couple inside locked their doors and shooed her away. She moved to the next car that rolled in behind it. The same reaction, only this time the driver tooted his horn. Quickly she ducked lower and moved away towards the supermarket. She caught her reflection in the windows of parked cars: her eyes were wild, her hair slick with sweat and her right arm was still a mass of blood. She was still clutching Isobel to her chest but her white blanket was stained a deep red and her hair was the only part of her that was visible. ‘Please let it be my blood!’ she whimpered.
Jenny realised how she must look, she realised that no one was going to help. She turned back towards where she had entered the car park and dared to stand taller. She could see a dark figure moving among the cars. He wasn’t far away and was scanning for something. He was looking for her. She was running out of options.
Three rows closer to the supermarket she saw a police car parked up next to a vacant parking space. She ran to it. It was empty. She peered desperately towards the supermarket entrance, praying for the officers who owned the car to emerge, to be armed, to shout for her to stand behind them.
They didn’t come.
She looked over to where she had seen the man walking among the cars. He was closer still, facing the other way but still moving. He hadn’t seen her yet. She pushed herself up against the police car, peering at him through the windows. He turned towards her, his arm held out like before. She could see he was holding something and people around him were starting to react. Someone screamed. Jenny couldn’t stay where she was. He was going to kill her — and Isobel — and he didn’t care who saw.
Jenny looked frantically around. The outside perimeter of the car park was fifty metres away where there was a short slope to a pavement. Hiding wasn’t going to work. She had to get away. Quickly she checked Isobel over. Her eyes were wide and she was running through some fretful expressions but she was fine. The blood on the blanket was all on the outside; it was all Jenny’s. Jenny dared to look over to where the man had come closer. He was still searching. She slammed her eyes shut and begged for this to work. She stood up, facing away from the man with the gun. She fixed on the pavement and ran as hard as she could.
Chapter 2
PC Ryan McGuiness stepped through the supermarket doors. His colleague PC Natalie Sawyers was close behind him.
‘Maybe we’ve got it wrong, you know,’ Natalie said.
Ryan slowed so Natalie could catch him up. He saw a playful twinkle in her eye. ‘Got what wrong?’
‘Well, life in general. We’re in there taking our report and tutting at the man who walked in and stole three bottles of gin at seven in the morning, but I mean, who’s right? I love gin.’
‘I know what you mean. We won’t be able to have a gin until at least our lunch break.’
‘We should just quit? Maybe nick a bottle of gin on the way home — job done. I wouldn’t have to worry about my sergeant’s exams. Well, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.’
‘Except prison.’
‘Oh, come on! How much gin would you have to nick to go to prison? Much more than I’d ever need! And that’s only if you get caught. What description did we get today? A tall bloke in a white crash helmet, with a limp. It’s not a great deal to go on, is it?’
‘Do I detect you are feeling a little less motivated today, Nat?’ They stopped outside of the shop. Ryan joined the queue for the cash machine. He was struggling to open a packet of sandwiches. He’d been running too late for breakfast before his shift.
‘I wouldn’t say less motivated, Ryan. I’m just tired, I guess. And maybe looking for alternatives to spending my nights studying and my days waiting for you.’
Ryan looked up from his sandwich wrestling. ‘Jesus, Nat! I’ll be two minutes! You got somewhere you need to be?’
‘Zulu One from Control.’ Ryan’s radio came through loud from its position strapped to his chest. It caused two people ahead of them in the queue to spin and face him. He smiled and quickly turned it down.
‘Maybe!’ Natalie called over, she gestured at her own radio. She dipped her head to reply, ‘Zulu One. Go ahead, Control.’
‘Zulu One, you are tracking close to a shots fired call in London Road, Dover. We have multiple informants. Received so far?’
‘So far,’ Natalie replied. Ryan pushed his wallet back into his pocket. They both started towards their parked car.
‘At this time we do not have anything confirmed and it varies from shots fired, erratic driving and the last call is regards an RTC. We’re pretty sure they’re all the same incident, Zulu One. We just need someone on the ground to take a look.’
‘Received that, Control. Show us en route. What’s the exact location?’
‘The RTC is described as being outside of the old indoor market, if that means anything to you. So you are aware, this is being assessed by the firearms commander and an armed patrol is making its way. We just require you to make an initial assessment. You are to remember the stay-safe principles. Do you need reminding of these principles, Zulu One?’
‘No. Thank you, Control.’
Ryan looked over at Natalie and rolled his eyes. ‘By stay-safe principles they mean don’t get hit by a bullet, right? I mean, it’s good advice but I’m not sure anyone really needs reminding of that.’ Ryan made it back to their car first. He slid into the driver’s seat and threw his sandwiches onto the bench seat behind him. He fired the engine and snatched at first gear for a quick getaway. He knew the location: it was a quick trip round the one-way system. He was suddenly aware that his colleague hadn’t joined him, she still stood at the passenger door, apparently unmoving — he could just see her hip. Ryan cursed and slid her window down.
‘Nat, we gotta go!’ She stepped further away, towards the front of the car. She moved far enough for Ryan to see her face. Her eyes were wide in panic, her hands covered her mouth and she was staring back towards him. He saw what she was looking at, what he had missed in his urgency. A white blanket, bunched up and lying on the bonnet was pressed lightly against the windscreen. It was stained red — blood red. It was so fresh that there was a spot on the screen.
‘Jesus, Nat! What is it?’
‘Ryan,’ Nat managed. ‘It’s a baby.’
‘A what?’ Ryan got out of the car. His attention was dragged away to the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot. Members of the public were running towards him. He turned back to his colleague who was still staring at the bundle on the bonnet as if it was too hot to touch. ‘What the hell is going on?’
Chapter 3
Outside the large window, Langthorne’s Old High Street bustled under light rain, a shiny strip of cobbled nostalgia. Unchanged since the turn of the previous century and once the hub of the town, it was now mostly art galleries, bars and coffee shops, like the one in which George and his wife were now sitting. It was his favourite in the town. The coffee-tinged air that helped set off the atmosphere was complemented by a bookshop theme. Just about every inch of wall was covered with books, old novels with aging brown jackets and yellowing pages. He had chosen it as a venue for their meeting on purpose. It was a public place, so it came with the natural pressures of social etiquette, where his wife could feel comfortable. And it was somewhere he knew and liked so he could feel comfortable too. But his wife had just asked him casually how he had been, after she had disappeared with their daughter for the best part of twelve months. The comfortable surroundings suddenly mattered very little — he wanted to bang hard on the table, maybe get to his feet and tip it right over, throwing their carefully presented lattes all over the floor. He wanted to shout, to swear, to demand to see his little girl.
‘I’ve been okay,’ he said, instead.
‘Quite a pause there, George! Is that what you really wanted to say?’ Sarah’s chuckle had a nervous ring to it and she seemed to be studying him closely for his reaction.
‘Well, I mean obviously it’s been hard. I’ve missed my family every day. I missed you, both of you.’ Their daughter Charley especially, if he was honest. She would be nine years old in two days’ time — nine years old! How had that happened? Sometimes he thought about it, about how much time was passing since he had last seen her and it just about brought on a full panic attack. He would have sharpness of breath, even palpitations. You get one shot at being a dad to your kid and they don’t stay kids for long.