by Jack Slater
Colin and Jane were waiting in the wide corridor outside the court rooms. ‘Back rooms are clear,’ Colin said.
‘So, where’s the chaperone?’ Pete couldn’t see even one of the Southam brothers being able to control both Tommy and the man with him.
Colin shrugged.
‘Maybe he went with them’ Jane suggested. ‘Tommy’s his charge for the day. A sense of responsibility comes with that, I expect. If they threatened Tommy’s safety unless he followed orders…’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Pete said. The alternative was that there was another body somewhere. Or at least a man who needed medical attention.
‘Let’s get upstairs and make sure,’ Colin said.
PC’s Nikki French and Sophie Clewes of the uniformed branch, both of whom Pete had worked with before, came up the front stairs towards them.
Colin turned to meet them. ‘You two stay on this floor and check the rooms along there.’ He pointed towards the rear of the building, beyond the small room where Tommy had been testifying. ‘And between you, make sure you don’t miss anyone dodging from one hiding place to another.’
Damn, Pete thought. He hadn’t thought of that until now, but the Southam brothers were more than bold enough to stay hidden by swapping locations during the search. ‘We’ll have to work our way back down in pairs, to make sure we haven’t missed anything,’ he said as the four of them headed for the main stairway.
Colin nodded. ‘It was a question of manpower until the car park was cleared.’
At the front of the building on the top floor was a canteen with attached kitchen which was used by staff, jury members, solicitors and barristers as well as witnesses, if accompanied by a staff member. Across the corridor, which was narrower on this floor, was the arbitration department and next to it, according to the signage, access to the public and press galleries of crown court one, then more toilets and the records library while across from them were the galleries for court two, the stenography department and finally, the court three galleries.
Pete took one side while Colin would check the other, leaving Jane at the top of the stairs to watch for surreptitious movement. Despite the size of the space, it took only moments to check the canteen, glancing under the tables and over the counter. He was heading for the door through to the kitchens when he heard Jane’s shout. He turned instantly and ran for the door, snatching it open and launching himself through.
‘Jane?’
‘Nick and Sophie have found something, boss.’
A feeling of dread swooped deep into Pete’s gut as the door opposite opened and Colin appeared. Pete ignored the senior man. ‘Found what?’
‘A body. In a store cupboard next to the interview room.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Who?’ Pete demanded before she had chance to continue.
‘They don’t know. Might be the chaperone who was with Tommy.’
Relief flooded Pete’s soul, followed almost as powerfully by guilt. How could he be relieved that another human being was dead, regardless of who it was? But when the alternative was his own son…
‘Tell them to continue the search,’ Colin said, taking out his phone. He dialled slowly, one finger stabbing at the screen. When it connected, he raised it to his ear and waited a few seconds. ‘Doctor, Colin Underhill. Seems like we’ve got another one when you’ve finished with the judge. Coming out through the court room, the second door on your right.’
He paused, listening, then nodded. ‘He’s not going anywhere.’ He ended the call and looked across at Pete. ‘Carry on.’
Pete turned back into the canteen and headed for the kitchen door, checking behind the counter again as he passed. Reaching for the single wooden door with its long, narrow glazed panel, he pushed it open and stepped through.
The door slammed back at him. His head bounced off the frame hard enough that he saw stars as the door squeezed his ribcage so powerfully it felt like at least a couple of ribs were cracked. Pete gasped, shook his head and immediately regretted it. He winced at the added discomfort, heaving back against the man he could now see on the far side of the door. Not much less than his own height but probably half as heavy again and all of it solid muscle, his bull neck and short-cut sandy hair combined with the smart suit he was wearing to make him look like a bouncer. But Pete knew he was anything but that.
He was on the other side of the law completely.
Pete pushed back as hard as he could against the pressure Adrian Southam was maintaining on the door. Finally, he managed to slip his body out from between the door and the frame, but he wasn’t fast enough to get his right leg out of there. The door slammed shut again on his thigh. He heaved and pushed but could only gain limited purchase. What was Southam trying to prove here? Or to do? Was this a question of hurting Pete as much as he could, either just for the sake of it or to slow his pursuit - either to allow his brother time to get away with Tommy or to impede Pete in a chase when he finally let go? Or was he just enjoying it?
Rage lent Pete extra strength. He set his free foot on the lino floor, face twisting into a snarl as he heaved for all his was worth. He gained maybe half an inch. Still not enough to free his trapped leg but enough to be able to twist it so he could set his foot against the door frame and push with that one as well.
A movement sounded from beyond Southam. A shout.
Pete recognised Colin Underhill’s voice. He saw Southam’s head snap around. Then a large aluminium saucepan winged its way past Southam’s head to crash against the wall. He ducked and Pete used the distraction to push against the door again as Southam laughed.
‘Come on, old man. That’s a woman’s trick.’
‘So long as it works,’ Colin replied and threw another.
His aim was better, but still Southam batted it aside with one hand while the other kept the pressure on the door, Pete gaining nothing against him.
Then Colin threw two almost at once. Southam batted the first one away but the second hit him squarely in the chest. Pete heaved again and gained a fraction of ground but Southam had his foot firmly against the base of the door, his soles gripping the floor as if they were glued down. But more saucepans came at him fast and hard. One, two, three in rapid succession. The first one he avoided, the second hit him on the shoulder. Colin’s aim was improving. His arm came up to bat the third one away but wasn’t quick enough. He ducked, and Pete managed finally to force the door open enough to dart through before he could recover. But he was wrong-footed to attack the big man before he could dodge away.
He swung a fist at Pete, connecting hard as Pete stepped into its arc. The impact knocked Pete’s skull back. He went down on one knee and Southam stepped in to deliver the final blow, but Colin was on him, saucepan in one hand, a big knife in the other. Pete saw him swing the saucepan even as the shock of seeing him with the kitchen knife jolted through him.
If he connected with that it could finish his career and put him in jail.
‘No, Colin,’ he shouted, lunging up, shoulder slamming into Southam’s unprotected side.
Southam’s raised arm was jolted out of position so the big pan hit him a glancing blow on the side of his head. He grunted, staggering sideways. He was a big man but two police officers with anger driving them past what would normally be expected was too much. He stepped in on Colin, one arm going for the knife while the other fist bunched and drove at his face.
Colin ducked to one side but a shove from Southam sent him sprawling across the steel-topped counter to his left and Southam went past him, heading for the far door with a speed that was shocking for a man of his size.
Pete gained his feet and reached out to Colin, who dropped the knife and straightened as the door at the far end of the room was batted aside and Southam was out and gone.
‘Shit,’ Colin grunted.
‘Are you all right?’ Pete asked.
Colin nodded.
‘You were going to…?’
‘For Tommy, not you.’
Pete couldn’t stop the grin from crossing his face. He set off running after Southam. He wouldn’t catch him, but he could help Mick tackle him downstairs. As he ran for the door, he reached for his radio. ‘Mick, be ready. Incoming. I’m on his tail, but I’m too far back to catch him.’
There was no response, but Pete didn’t really expect one, apart from the possible ‘Roger.’ He must be otherwise occupied, he guessed as he reached the back stairs. He hit the door hard and went through, jumping down the stairs three and four at a time, no thought of safety as he made what time he could, bouncing off the wall at the half-landing with a raised hand to launch himself down the next short flight. His feet touched ground just once before he reached the bottom and turned again.
At the ground floor, he stuck his landing leg out almost rigid to stop himself and yank the door open, surging through into the corridor, hand slapping the wall as he turned fast towards the distant back door. Beyond it, he could see the milling, impatient crowd. On this side of the glass, Mick was on the floor, Southam stamping on his torso as he reached for the door release and took off into the narrow street beyond, turning left away from the crowd, shoving aside a black-robed man who fell into the crowd, knocking several more over like skittles in an alley.
Pete saw Mick stir as if he was going to rise. The last thing he needed was a tangle in this narrow space.
‘Stay down,’ he yelled.
Mick blinked and did as he was told as Pete leapt over him, slamming his hand on the door release and hoping it worked as quickly as it should. He raised his free hand to the door, still moving fast. It opened and he was through. Now he could hear the protests of the crowd as they struggled to untangle themselves and gain their feet again. He ignored them, setting off after the fleeing man. But Southam was already out of sight. Just beyond the far end of the court building, the narrow street dead-ended at a T junction. One side led back towards the ring-road, he knew, while the other joined a narrow access road that headed into the shopping centre from further up Southernhay Gardens, emerging across from Debenham’s.
The right side was more likely, he thought, adjusting his trajectory to allow a wider turning angle. As he bounced off the far wall with a raised hand and kept running, he glanced over his shoulder just in case, but there was no sign of the fleeing man in either direction.
He must have gone somewhere though, and these were the only two choices, this the more likely of them. He kept going, not slowing his pace. Southam was built for speed not endurance. Pete thought he could catch the man, given time.
Not that he had much of that. He had no way of knowing what the other Southam – the one suspected of killing a young girl in Bath several years ago - would do to Tommy as soon as he got the chance. He reached the far end of the alley and another T junction. Glanced right and left. Was just in time to see Southam dodging to the right in front of the big department store. He set off after him once more.
Surely, they weren’t stupid enough to have parked whatever vehicle they had in a public car park? They had to realise it would be covered by CCTV. And yet they had to have kept it close. How else could they have hoped to get in and out of the court building without being seen?
But these were all questions for later. First, he had to catch them.
There were more people around here. A crowd was gathered around a burger stand a few yards ahead, another in front of an ice-cream van in the middle of the block-paved cross-road in front of the big department store. More individuals and small family groups milled around from shop to shop. As he closed on the crowd around the burger van a small group broke away, straight into his path.
‘Police. Coming through,’ he shouted.
They froze, heads turning towards him in shock. This wasn’t a normal event in a British shopping mall. But thankfully, they stayed still. He went past them, dodged around a woman with both hands laden with store-named shopping bags and made the cross-road. The street ended abruptly only fifty yards away, but he couldn’t see Southam. Where had he gone?
Pete hesitated.
He could have entered any of the several shops on either side of the short pedestrianised street or continued through the narrow access path that led through to the tourist information centre and the entrance to the multi-storey car park.
He frowned, thinking again, they can’t be that stupid. Can they?
Most villains were caught by their own greed or stupidity but the Southam brothers had proven themselves far from stupid. Ruthless, vicious and twisted, but not stupid. A shop, then. But which one? He cast his gaze around. Most of the shops along here were small, single-entrance establishments, easy to trap someone inside. He wasn’t the type to take a hostage and try to escape that way. It seldom worked anyway. The department store then. If so, he hadn’t gone in the main door. It was right on the corner where Pete would have seen him. So, the next one along. Once inside, would he aim to double back and lose Pete? Pete was on his own. They could go round and round in circles like that until he called in reinforcements, so he’d best do that now. He took out his radio and pressed the transmit button.
‘This is DS Gayle. I think the fugitive is in Debenham’s, but I need backup before going in. Any available units to my position ASAP.’ Then he took out his phone and dialled. ‘Ben,’ he said when the call was picked up. ‘Put me through to Graham, will you? Then get onto security at Debenham’s and see if they can confirm Adrian Southam’s presence and current location in there. Tell them to track him but not engage, all right? Emphasise that. He’s dangerous.’
‘Will do, boss. Hang on.’ The line went dead for a moment, then a new connection was made. ‘CCTV room.’
‘Graham, its Pete Gayle. I need you to try and track someone for me.’
‘Who and where?’
‘Adrian Southam. Big, bulky feller in a dark suit. Short sandy hair. He’s run from the combined court house up into the precinct. I know he turned right at the cross roads there, but I’ve lost him. Also, a similar male with a small boy, a few minutes earlier.’
‘You mean you’ve just lost him? Like now?’
‘Within the last minute or so.’
‘I’ll call you back.’
As he hung up, Pete was grateful for Graham’s presence in the CCTV room. They had their jokes and banter, but Graham was good at his job and sensitive when it was needed.
He put away his phone and concentrated on carefully watching the several entrances to the department store in front of him.
He heard running footsteps from behind him and glanced around just as his phone rang in his pocket. Jane, Dick and two uniformed officers were hurrying towards him as he turned back towards the department store and took out his phone. ‘Yes?’
‘Pete, its Graham.’ The one you’re after went in Debenhams’ north door. I haven’t got the other one with the boy, though. Nowhere to be seen. Sorry.’
‘Nowhere?’ Fear was creeping through his veins like liquid ice.
‘Not a single frame. Not anywhere.’
‘But…’ Pete had been convinced that the younger Southam had made it out with Tommy ahead of them: that Adrian had stayed behind to delay them – to give Steven time to get away with Tommy. That was the main reason for going after him with such determination. To catch him and get him to talk – to reveal where his brother would have taken the boy. Otherwise… ‘Where the hell did they go then?’
‘I’ve got no idea, mate. But they didn’t go the same way as you just did and there’s no sign of them on Southernhay Gardens, as far as I can see, so they must have had a vehicle waiting somewhere in the alleys round there.’
Pete’s panicking mind refused to accept that. ‘The lanes are too narrow. A parked car would have been noticed. It would have blocked anywhere they left it.’
‘There’s no wider areas? No garages, parking bays, anything like that?’
Pete tried to think. What had he run past on the way here? But it was all a blur. He’d been moving too fast, bee
n focussed too tightly on his prey to notice much of his surroundings along the way.
He shook his head. There was no use panicking. That would get him no nearer to Tommy. He slowed himself down by force of will, sucking in deep breaths, forcing the fear out with them.
Images flickered in his mind. Images of buildings packed in on either side of the narrow lanes, walls crowding the rough tarmac and cobbles, some painted white, others bare red brick or old stone. A mix of widths and heights. Then he paused.
‘There’s a row of garages. Four of them, just before a junction, but there’s no room to park in front of them without blocking at least three and they wouldn’t have done that. They’d have known they’d be in the courthouse for some time and they’d have wanted to stay unnoticed.’
‘And all the garages were closed and locked?’ Graham asked.
‘I dunno.’ Pete hesitated again. ‘They were all closed, but again – park in someone’s actual garage and you’re going to get more than noticed if they come home, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but if they’re out at this time on a week-day, chances are they’re at work, right? They’ll be gone all day.’
‘Maybe,’ Pete allowed. ‘But it’s a hell of a chance to take.’
‘Aren’t the Southam brothers all about taking chances and opportunities, regardless of other folks?’
‘Well, yeah, but…’
‘Best check them, I’d have thought,’ Graham said. ‘It’s the only way I can see they’d be able to get away from the area unseen.’
‘And we can’t…? No.’ Pete stopped himself. They couldn’t find the vehicle without knowing what it was. But how many vehicles would be coming and going along those narrow roads at this time of day?
‘Do me a favour,’ he said. ‘Check whatever CCTV you’ve got covering the entrances to those alleys. Go back twenty minutes, max. See what vehicles came out of the area in that timeframe or any that went in after 9.00 am.’
‘OK. Four cameras then. I’ll call you back.’