Condemned

by R. C. Bridgestock

  ‘I wonder if there is anything buried in the priest’s grave that might help us?’ said Wilkie.

  ‘Such as a body… or two?’ said Mike.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Wilkie. He turned to Charley with questioning eyes.

  ‘There’d be outrage if we exhumed a priest.’

  ‘I know that, but it’s not going to stop you, if it’s needed to solve a murder, is it? Let’s face it, it wouldn’t be the first time someone has used an existing grave to hide a body, would it?’ said Wilkie.

  ‘Hold that thought,’ Charley replied, ‘but, before we do we’ll lean on Lily Pritchard a bit more. I think now she’s started to revisit her past, there’ll be more forthcoming. For the moment, let’s wait and see if there are any fingerprints or DNA on the exhibits, and if so, where that leads us.’

  * * *

  Charley’s mind was drawn back to the Dixons. A couple of officers from the surveillance team were now on site at Primrose Pastures and had taken up position in the caravan that had been offered to them. This took all responsibility away from Sean Dean at the caravan site to inform the police of the Dixons’ return.

  The last sighting of the Dixons’ motorhome tracked through the automatic number-plate recognition system was on the A64 on the day that the couple had booked into the site. However, in respect of their motorbike, there had been numerous hits, and the team had spent time trawling through the data to see if there was a repeat trip to one place. A common trip for the Dixons appeared to be on the A166, to and from The Tradesman’s Cafe, a well-known meeting place for bikers and also renowned for a good breakfast.

  According to the surveillance team supervisor, a planned moving stop on the Dixon’s bike was feasible along this particular stretch of road. An isolated area, it offered no risk of interference in the operation, accidental or deliberate, from pedestrians or the public.

  As she could feel the tension start to build again in the case, Charley liaised with Tim Watson on the phone regarding the firearms operation. ‘Is there any point on the A166 that can be identified in advance?’ Charley asked, wanting to know as much as she could about the details.

  ‘The Tactical Pursuit and Containment supervisor will call it on the day,’ he told Charley. ‘Steve Reynolds is the TPAC lead on this operation, and he has a great deal of experience in managing and terminating police pursuits. I’ve been involved with many of those with him. His forte is stopping fleeing vehicles, including rolling roadblocks, use of spike strips, and his ‘box and stop’ containment method is a joy to see. Don’t worry, we’re ready. All’s well, ma’am.’

  However, Charley did worry, because this part of the operation was out of her hands. It had to be delegated to those who confronted armed criminals on a daily basis as this was their area of expertise. But thankfully things were moving at pace and she felt upbeat at the progress.

  Tattie stood at Charley’s door until she had finished her call, ‘The financial investigation team have sent you an update, so I’ve printed it off for you to read.’ She handed over some paperwork to her boss.

  The report identified irregularities in the business accounts of Mr Raglan.

  ‘The devious bastard has been money laundering, there is no other explanation!’ she exclaimed to Mike as she handed him the summary to be included on the database ten or so minutes later.

  Mike pulled up a chair. ‘So, in light of this, what’s our next move?’

  ‘Raglan’s dug his own grave, hasn’t he? We will have enough to charge him with something at the end of the day, and his long-standing family business will close when he’s dealt with, that’s for sure. One person I am still curious about is James Thomas. Nothing has been flagged up for him. Yet I have a strange feeling that he might be part of a much larger, more sophisticated network.’

  ‘Could it be that the Dixons have turned their hand to drug dealing for money, as opposed to armed robberies, and that our players, such as Faisal, Thomas and Raglan know each other better than we think, because of that connection?’ said Mike.

  ‘It’s a possibility. Let’s chase up the cell-site analysis and see if they can enlighten us with any connections via the Dixons’ mobiles. You liaise with the drugs team, and I’ll liaise with the National Crime Agency. The last thing we want to do if there is an ongoing operation that we are unaware of, is to blow any undercover officers’ identity who may be involved, or highlight a police informant’s role. Once we get the update, and can confirm no ongoing interest elsewhere, we will strike as soon as we’re ready.’ Charley’s eyes were bright. ‘Don’t you just love it when a job starts to come together?’

  Chapter 34

  Charley lay in bed, her thoughts chasing through her mind. The minutes passed, and she tossed and turned, but still she could not fall asleep.

  ‘If you turn a stone over you never know what you might find,’ Grandpa had told her, usually before revealing a toad or a newt to startle her. The thought made her smile. What else was to be expected turning over a house built of stone?

  Raising herself on one elbow, Charley leaned over to the bedside table in the dark, and with fumbling fingers, found her notebook. But where was her pen? She sighed and flopped back onto her pillows, doing her best to hold on to her patience. Getting angry was not going to magic up a pen into her hand to enable her to transfer the thoughts in her head on to paper, so that she could sleep.

  She heard the clock strike three. Charley must have then drifted off to sleep, but she slept fitfully as her dreams woke her repeatedly. She was scared by fragmented images of tormented souls fleeing through Crownest’s large, rusty iron gates, as they begged her to listen to their stories and to catch their murderers. ‘God does not hold grudges. God decided it was time for her to leave this Earth,’ wailed a man nearby, who was dressed in the farmers’ clothing of yesteryear, throwing dead bodies, wrapped up in soiled rags tied up with string, into his cart. Where had he appeared from?

  Next was an appearance by her grandpa, ‘Grandpa,’ Charley cried out.

  ‘Trust in God to show you the way,’ the old man said, as a warm feeling filled her body, and Charley awoke abruptly to find a pen at her fingertips, and her notebook containing her previous night’s thoughts. She looked at the paper, as she hadn’t been aware of making the notes or of taking the pen from her bedside table during the night, but she must have done:

  Possibility of the Dixons having past history of drugs/dealing?

  Crownest burnt intentionally, whilst being used to grow cannabis plants – intense lighting – hydroponics – cause of fire?

  Whilst reading the almost illegible scrawl below, she questioned her state of mind. The scribbled words made little sense. Where is she? was one of the last things she had written in capital letters. Who should I be looking for? Anxiety gripped her. Was there another body secreted in the house?

  ‘No!’ Charley put her head in her hands, ‘Stop!’

  Tossing her notebook on the bed, she calmly tried to convince herself that it was nothing more than the ramblings of an overactive mind. ‘I will let the evidence speak for itself,’ she said. Saying the words out loud felt good. If the Dixons had been using Crownest as a cannabis factory there would have been evidential residue, which there wasn’t, and there would have been the well-known smell in the air, which she knew there hadn’t been from her first visit to the site.

  * * *

  At the Incident Room the morning meeting was eventful. The strategy for the Dixons’ arrest was agreed between the two police forces in West Yorkshire and North Yorkshire, and the operational order signed off accordingly by the hierarchy. Things were beginning to move; Charley just wanted the Dixons to do the same.

  ‘The Police Search Advisor and her team have been notified to search the mobile home, to see what evidence we can find after the suspects’ arrest,’ said Wilkie.

  ‘When the Dixons’ have been apprehended I want them to be brought here, to Huddersfield cells. There will be no talking to either of them, but
please make notes of anything they say en route. When you arrive, I want them to remain separate at all times, so that they don’t have a chance to speak to each other.

  Not knowing when the operation would take place, but understanding that it could be imminent, brought about a tension in the office, whilst the day job continued. The atmosphere was electric with expectation. The net was closing in.

  After the meeting Charley pulled Mike to one side. ‘If I shoot off, I’ll be on my way to Wetherby Police Station, with Tim Watson, for a rendezvous with North Yorkshire Firearms Inspector, Steve Reynolds. From there, the three of us will be driven to Primrose Pastures, Filey in the command vehicle. My mobile phone will be on silent.’

  Half an hour later Charley was sat with Tattie, in the SIO’s office. Charley had been adamant that no one was to disturb them under any circumstances as Tattie desperately needed to obtain signatures on documents that were for the Charley’s immediate attention.

  Her mobile phone rang. Without introduction, the observation supervisor spoke. ‘The blue Kawasaki motorbike registered to the Dixons has pulled up alongside their mobile home, ma’am. There are two people on board, both wearing identical black leathers and helmets. We are unable to ascertain which is Brad, and which Brittany, at this time. The pair are having a good look around them. A large holdall is being taken from the rear pannier. They are now making their way to the mobile home.’

  ‘I’m on my way,’ Charley said. To Tattie’s surprise she jumped to her feet, threw on her jacket, picked up her bag and bid her goodbye in a matter of seconds.

  ‘Mike, it’s started. I’m on my way.’

  * * *

  As she sat inside Tim’s car Charley caught her breath. Game on, she tried to control the adrenaline racing through her veins. Any firearms operation was dangerous for all involved.

  ‘Doggy bag?’ said Tim. One hand on the wheel, he passed Charley a brown paper bag before setting off, meanwhile finishing the half-eaten sandwich hanging from his mouth. ‘We don’t know when we are going to eat again, so I thought I’d grab us some food to eat on the way. It’ll take us approx an hour and fifteen minutes to get to York at this time of day.’

  Charley took off her coat, tossed it into the back of the car, and rolled up her sleeves. Taking the bottle of cold water from the paper bag, she drank thirstily. When she finished, she gasped for air, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

  ‘Not hungry?’ asked Tim, watching her place the bag on the floor between her feet.

  Charley rested against the headrest and shook her head from side to side.

  He looked concerned. ‘You okay? Your face looks as if you’ve run a marathon.’

  The rush of adrenaline had subsided, and Charley suddenly felt drained. ‘I’m good,’ she said, with a deep sigh and a sideways smile.

  Tim enthusiastically continued to air some of the aspects of the operation. ‘Steve is waiting for us in Enterprise. Enterprise!’ he laughed. ‘Sounds like something out of a space movie doesn’t it, not a make-do transit van. I wonder who named it?’

  Charley raised her eyebrows. ‘I guess some wanker they pay to sit on his arse all day, procrastinating.’

  Tim continued as if he hadn’t heard. ‘Sounds like the Dixons might have bedded down. Might ’ave had a long drive. For how long is anyone’s guess. Doesn’t help me, not knowing how long to keep this present team in a state of readiness, before replacing them. They can’t be on high alert for too long.’

  Charley watched the two Firearms Tactical Team advisors greet each other. It was apparent that the two were well-acquainted, having been together on incidents and courses over the years, judging by the tales they told about each other, many of them humorous. Despite Steve being slightly built, he had powerful shoulders. She was relieved that the pair had restored her good spirits, because being driven on the northbound A1 in a windowless tin can, which acted as her temporary mobile office, was certainly not a comfortable experience. As they neared the location, her buoyant feelings gave way to tension, and the hour’s journey in Enterprise became even less enjoyable as the three concentrated on their upcoming roles in the imminent operation. Waiting for the off was an anxious time. They had to hope that their preparations would cover all eventualities.

  Suddenly, the voice of a member of the observation team came over the dedicated radio channel. Instantly all banter stopped dead, and there was silence. Holding their breath, they listened intently.

  ‘It looks like we may have an off. Two bikers in black leathers with backpacks, at the motorbike now. Repeating two bikers in black leathers believed to be targets one and two at the motorbike now.’

  All members of the team listening to the channel heard the news. The Dixons were on the move.

  The next message came with a heightened edge to the officer’s tone. ‘We have an off, off, towards exit of the site. Keeping within the requested speed restrictions of five miles an hour at this time.’

  Charley concentrated hard, glad that the officer with ‘eyeball’ repeated for clarity and changes in direction.

  ‘We are presuming that the rider is Brad, and Brittany is the passenger. According to intelligence gleaned from the campsite, Brittany had only ever been seen as the pillion passenger,’ said Steve.

  ‘At the exit of the campsite we now have a left, left onto the A165 heading north towards Scarborough, speed is a steady fifty miles an hour.’

  The plain-clothes surveillance unit who were following at a distance, took over the running commentary as they had ‘eyeball’. The motorbike continued north, onto the A615. It wasn’t long before they were taking a right turn onto A64 towards York.

  Charley’s heartbeat had increased dramatically, and she expected her colleagues’ had too. It didn’t matter how many times she had been in this situation, when the targets were armed, and lives were at risk, it always affected her the same.

  The update from the unmarked car following came minutes later. ‘Speed increased to seventy, seven zero, still heading in the direction of York on the A614.’

  ‘I’m confident they’re heading to the repeated location that’s showed up on ANPR,’ said Steve.

  ‘The Tradesman’s Cafe,’ said Tim.

  ‘Breakfast or a drop?’ said Charley. ‘Or both. Let’s hope we’re right, because that’s what we anticipated and planned for.’

  ‘At their speed it won’t be long now before they reach the location of the intended intercept,’ said Steve. ‘What works best from experience, is choosing a point on the road where our temporary traffic lights bring the traffic into a single lane. Road blocks are ready to move into place front and behind the suspect, so that the only vehicles on this stretch of road will be the motorbike and the armed police unit. Nothing, and no one else.’

  ‘An off-road bike and rider is now in place at the rear of the surveillance, ready to be called forward if required, just in case they go where the four-by-fours can’t,’ confirmed Tim, in line with their earlier discussions.

  ‘Where’s the helicopter?’ asked Charley, seeking the ‘eye in the sky’ above.

  ‘Not available; we will have to work with what we have,’ said Tim.

  Steve nodded.

  Silence was once again observed.

  ‘Targets now approaching temporary traffic lights at location of intercept. Targets now approaching temporary traffic lights at location of intercept. Targets slowing down as they approach red light, targets slowing down at red light.’

  Charley found it difficult not being inside one of the pursuit cars with visible contact, but she knew from the radio commentary exactly what was happening. She found herself holding her breath. It was almost time to act.

  The commentary started again, almost immediately.

  ‘Target not stopping at red light. Repeat target not stopping at red light. They have continued through the red light. We are in pursuit.’

  The distance through the traffic lights was short, but the route took a right-hand
bend which resulted in the drivers not being able to see what was ahead of them.

  ‘Strike! Strike!’ ordered Steve.

  Armed response vehicles now sped forwards at both sides of the traffic lights, blocking the road in front and behind the target’s vehicle.

  ‘The bike has broadsided. The bike has broadsided!’ The engine could be heard revving.

  ‘Armed challenges now being made.’

  ‘Armed police! You on the motorbike, turn off the engine and step off the machine!’

  ‘They’re not thinking they can escape, are they?’ asked Charley.

  More police units were now in position, physically blocking any possible exit.

  The challenges were still being made and getting no response.

  ‘Target is still revving engine. A passenger has dismounted, taking steps away from the bike. Passenger now kneeling on one knee.’ The running commentary continued.

  ‘Put your hands above your head,’ came the shout loud and clear, along with the continuous instructions to the rider to turn off the engine.

  ‘Passenger not complying. Handgun produced, held in both hands, rested on knee. Three shots fired!’ was the relay, as came the noise of the weapon being discharged.

  Chapter 35

  The police returned the gunfire, and the shooter slumped to the ground. As still as a snake, watchful and unseeing at the same time, Charley prayed.

  ‘One target neutralised,’ were the next impassive words by the commentator.

  The passenger lay motionless, spread-eagled on the tarmac. The police had blocked the rider’s path in both directions as their shouted warnings went unheeded.

  ‘Rider, turn off the engine, and dismount with your hands above your head,’ was the command from the armed officers, as they moved forwards from the cover of their vehicles.