by James Raven
‘Can you prove that?’
‘Well, you can ask my wife if you like. She’ll tell you. She was the one who told me to give him the bike because I hadn’t used it in ages.’
Temple and Vaughan exchanged looks. This was something they hadn’t expected.
‘I swear I’m telling the truth,’ Renner said. ‘It wasn’t me on the M4 last night. I was in my flat before going to the pub. It must have been Cole.’
‘So maybe you’re both involved,’ Temple said. ‘A father and son double-act. Two battle-scarred ex-servicemen who’ve decided to let loose a terrible rage against society.’
‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous,’ Renner said. ‘Cole may well have cracked and his default position might be to kill but I’m just a pathetic drunk who’s screwed up his life. I don’t blame anyone but myself and if you check my army record you’ll find that I never actually took anyone’s life. And I never wanted to.’
Temple felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. As much as he hated to admit it he was beginning to think that perhaps Renner was telling the truth. There was nothing in his body language to suggest he was lying. And he seemed pretty sure that his embittered wife would back up his claim about the motorbike.
‘Do you intend to charge Mr Renner with any offences?’ the lawyer said. ‘Because if not then I think you should return his clothes and release him. He’s answered all your questions and has told you that he was at home when the shootings took place.’
‘He’s going nowhere for the time being,’ Temple said. ‘We’ll talk to his wife and wait for the results of the forensic tests on his flat and clothes. And meanwhile we also want to know if he has alibis for the times the other motorway attacks took place.’
‘I was either at home or walking around the town,’ Renner said. ‘I’ve got fuck all else to do since the wife chucked me out and I don’t have any money or friends.’
‘So the answer to my question is that you don’t have alibis for any evening this week,’ Temple said. ‘That’s a pity, Mr Renner.’
‘Oh, come off it, copper,’ Renner said. ‘This is total bullshit. You’ve got the wrong man and you know it.’
Temple decided to suspend the interview. He felt certain that Renner wasn’t about to change his story.
‘We’ll talk again in a while,’ Temple said. ‘You’ll be held in one of the cells until then and you’re free to retain the services of Mr Sweeney here or get your own lawyer.’
Renner started to object, but Temple ignored him and hurried out of the room with DS Vaughan in tow. In the corridor he told Vaughan to send someone to speak to Renner’s wife and chase up the forensic evidence.
‘My gut tells me he’s telling the truth, but I want to be sure of it,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile we need to step up our efforts to find his son. If Cole Renner is the sniper – and it’s what I’ve thought all along – then he’s probably planning another attack this evening.’
CHAPTER 45
BEFORE CONVENING ANOTHER team briefing Temple rushed upstairs to Beresford’s office to find out what had happened in London. He was anxious to know about the bomb that had gone off in the churchyard where Joseph Roth’s memorial service was going to be held.
‘Two police officers were injured in the blast,’ Beresford said. ‘But it could have been much worse.’
The explosive device had been planted in the ground next to Joseph Roth’s actual grave on the edge of the small churchyard. It had been timed to go off when the guests were due to gather around the grave for prayers after a short service inside the church. But Vickery had stopped the service from going ahead and the only people in the churchyard at the time were bomb disposal officers with sniffer dogs.
They were still searching for the bomb when it went off and two officers who were standing fifteen yards away were injured, though thankfully not seriously. They were both being treated in hospital for cuts and bruises.
‘About twenty people would have been standing around the grave at that time,’ Beresford said. ‘It’s possible they would all have been killed. Vickery wants to talk to you. He phoned here about ten minutes ago and I told him you were interviewing Renner. How did it go by the way?’
‘Badly,’ Temple said. ‘I’d pretty sure he’s not the sniper. He says he gave the motorbike to his son about six months ago.’
Beresford couldn’t conceal his disappointment. ‘Shit. That’s just what I didn’t want to hear. You’d better find out from Vickery where he wants to go from here.’
Temple called Vickery on his mobile as he walked back to the incident room. The DCS answered straight away and Temple was relieved to hear his voice.
‘It was an ace result,’ Vickery said. ‘If Hussain hadn’t kept the MacDonald’s receipt then we would never have known he went to the church. Lord only knows how many people would have been killed.’
It was often the way, Temple reflected. A felon is caught or a plot uncovered because of a seemingly inconsequential detail. Hussain had probably stuffed the receipt into his pocket without thinking. It’s what millions of people do every day.
‘Does Hussain know about it yet?’ Temple asked.
‘My boss gave him the news a short time ago and the bastard’s gutted. He confirmed it was the target all along. His accomplice tried to divert attention away from it to give him time and opportunity to plant the bomb, which he did two nights ago.’
‘Were you there when it went off?’
‘I was in the church. The device was buried under about six inches of dirt and put inside a pressure cooker packed with nails. It wasn’t very sophisticated but it was loud and effective.’
‘So where are you now, sir?’
‘On my way back to the Yard. I’ve called a task-force meeting and you need to update me. With Hussain out of the picture we’re down to one prime suspect for the sniper attacks.’
‘And it’s no longer Martin Renner,’ Temple said.
‘Why the hell not?’
Temple told him what the situation was and said they urgently needed to circulate a photograph of Cole Renner. This time Vickery was quick to agree.
‘I’ll get on with it then,’ Temple said. ‘Meanwhile I suggest we prepare ourselves for another attack this evening. It’s the last working day of the week and normally the motorways are extra busy.’
The next few hours passed quickly for Temple. There was a lot to do and a lot to think about.
He got the media department to send out a picture of Cole Renner along with an appeal for information on his whereabouts. The press release made it clear that he was now the number-one suspect in the hunt for the motorway sniper. Temple also agreed to front a press conference later in the day to help get the message out there.
The forensic evidence from Martin Renner’s flat failed to turn up anything that would connect him to the shootings. Likewise there were none of his fingerprints on the motorbike, but there were quite a few belonging to his son.
Renner’s wife confirmed his story about giving the bike to Cole and she said it had become her son’s pride and joy.
Despite the evidence suggesting that Martin Renner was not the sniper, Temple decided to leave him in the cell for as long as the law permitted. At least that way he’d be on hand to answer any questions that came up relating to his son.
The team’s reaction to the latest developments was commendable. In spite of their disappointment they got stuck into their tasks with renewed vigour. Temple could tell the pressure was getting to them, though: they were weary through lack of sleep and fearful that another attack was imminent. There were a lot of red eyes and pale faces.
The saturation news coverage of the sniper attacks on the television served only to fuel their anxiety.
There was a constant flow of disturbing images and alarmist narrative. The death toll from all the attacks was repeated every few minutes, along with footage of the scenes on the M27, the M3, the M25 and the M4. Reporters were stressing the point that nobody – except the snip
er – knew which motorway would be targeted next. Some even constructed news packages that focused on the difficulty of protecting drivers. They showed miles of motorways bordered by fields and woodlands, embankments that provided cover for a gunman and little-used roads that provided quick and easy escape routes.
‘There’s very little the police can do,’ said a BBC reporter. ‘They can’t possibly patrol all two thousand miles of motorways at the same time. The sniper can choose a remote location, carry out his attack and be gone long before emergency services reach the scene. On the M4 he made a mistake, but that may not stop him from continuing his killing frenzy.’
No terrorist attack or major crime had ever caused so much alarm across the country and the hunt for the sniper had become the biggest ever undertaken by British police.
DCS Vickery appeared on screen to explain that Yousef Hussain was no longer a suspect in the attacks, but that he was being charged in connection with the memorial-service bomb plot.
The sudden emergence of Cole Renner as the prime suspect came as a shock to many because he was in the army. It didn’t take long for the media to find out all there was to know about him. They laid siege to his mother’s house and obtained confirmation from the MOD that he was AWOL.
By early afternoon they’d managed to track down several of his army pals, including Ryan Addison, who revealed on camera how he had first raised concerns about Renner with the Military Police.
‘He told me he was pissed off with the world and wanted to take it out on someone,’ he said. ‘After that I spoke to him a couple of times and he said he was living in Southampton.’
Addison went on to describe Renner as a troubled man and said there were rumours circulating that he had stolen a sniper rifle from the army base at Bulford.
‘I’ve no idea if it’s true or not,’ he said. ‘But what I do know is that security at military armouries is not what it should be. Weapons go missing all the time, including rifles and machine guns.’
Asked if he thought Renner was capable of such extreme acts of violence, he responded by saying that his friend had been trained to kill people and during his training the only emotions he had been encouraged to show were aggression and anger.
‘If you programme young men to kill people they don’t know and from a distance then maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when something like this happens,’ he said.
Temple raised his brow at that last remark. It was a nail-in-the-coffin comment that would infuriate Renner if he heard it. And make him realize that Addison was no longer his friend.
Temple decided to give Addison a call. He wanted to remind him to get in touch if he heard from Renner.
Addison was surprised to hear from Temple.
‘I’ve just seen you on television, Mr Addison,’ he said. ‘It was an impressive interview and if Cole saw it he might be tempted to get in touch.’
‘If he does I’ll be sure to contact you straight away, Inspector. I have your number on speed-dial.’
‘That’s good to hear, Mr Addison. But I’ve also got a question for you.’
‘Fire away.’
‘Did you know that Cole was in possession of a motorcycle?’
‘Of course. It used to belong to his dad.’
‘And is it his only means of transport?’
‘I think so. He had a car, but I don’t know if he kept it after he was given the bike.’
‘What make of car?’
Addison had to think about it.
‘I’m sure it was a VW. Convertible type. Bright red.’
‘Any idea of the registration?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘Not to worry. But before I let you go can you remember anything else Cole might have said about his current accommodation? I know he mentioned to you that his landlady was pregnant. Well so far we haven’t managed to trace her.’
‘I’m afraid that’s all I recall of the conversation,’ Addison said. ‘He didn’t go into detail and I had no reason to press him at the time.’
‘I quite understand. If you do hear from him or remember something that might be important to us just call me. Day or night.’
‘I will, Inspector.’
After the conversation with Ryan Addison Temple took part in a conference call that included Vickery, the Home Secretary, a man from the MOD and other members of the task force. He was asked to be specific about the evidence linking Cole Renner to the killings.
‘We know from his father that he stole a sniper rifle from the army base,’ he said. ‘He also told his friend Ryan Addison that he was pissed off with life and wanted to take it out on someone. We’ve also been told he’s suffering from a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, which makes him unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Then the motorbike he was given six months ago was abandoned next to the M4. Finally he disappeared shortly after going AWOL and no one seems to know where he is.’
But before the conference call was over Temple was told about yet another piece of incriminating evidence against Renner.
DC Marsh came into his office with the news that the stolen car driven by the hooded man at the scene of the first sniper attack on the M27 had been found. It had been abandoned next to a deserted farm house just outside Winchester, a few miles from the motorway. Scene of crime officers had processed the vehicle in record time and the only prints found on it belonged to the woman who owned it. But they did find an empty Pepsi can in the footwell of the passenger seat. And on this they found finger and thumb prints belonging to Cole Renner.
It meant they now had solid evidence which placed him at the locations of two of the four sniper attacks.
CHAPTER 46
TWO O’CLOCK, FRIDAY afternoon and he had a decision to make. Should he or shouldn’t he launch a final attack?
Everything had already been planned in meticulous detail and he was ready to go.
The M40 just north of Bicester was the next location; an embankment overlooking the southbound carriageway. He could park his car just one hundred yards away behind a derelict building. He’d even picked out the very bush to use as cover.
It would take him about ninety minutes to get there. It was an easy route from Southampton along the M3, then on to the A34 to Newbury. From there it would be a straight run north past Oxford to the M40.
Before today he’d had every intention of rounding off the week with something really spectacular. He was going to shoot at traffic on both carriageways, but now he wondered if it was worth the risk.
He’d been watching the news and monitoring all the traffic reports, including the live cameras on the internet. And he wasn’t convinced the M40 would be anywhere near as busy as it usually was during a normal Friday evening rush hour.
His campaign of terror had been even more successful than he could have hoped. Drivers were too scared to travel on motorways. The cops had been forced to admit that they couldn’t possibly guarantee their safety. Thousands of people were apparently leaving work early so they could drive home before it got dark.
And then of course there was the fact that he’d already achieved his goal. The thought of it brought a smile to his face.
There’d been a lot of speculation about why he’d killed all those people at random. Some believed he was a terrorist linked to Al Qaeda. Others that he was a disaffected military man who had lost his marbles. But none of them knew the truth and they never would.
In front of him on the television they cut live to yet another police press conference. It was being fronted by detective Jeff Temple. He tried to reassure the public that the net was closing in on the sniper. He said they now had concrete evidence linking Lance Corporal Cole Renner to the attacks. He urged people to be extra vigilant. He reminded them that there was a £2.5m reward for information that led to an arrest.
But he didn’t look very confident. He looked tired. Haggard. Defeated.
Temple took the unprecedented step of urging people not to use the motorways during that evening’s
rush hour.
‘It’s just a temporary precaution,’ he said. ‘We have to assume that the sniper plans to carry out yet another attack. And we want to make it harder for him to do so. But I must stress again that this is a temporary measure.’
The detective’s plea helped him to reach a decision. He decided not to launch a fifth attack. Instead of driving up to the M40 he’d pour himself a cold German beer from the fridge and start making preparations for the final phase of his plan.
CHAPTER 47
THE PRESS CONFERENCE caused quite a stir. Temple hadn’t told anyone that he was going to advise drivers to avoid the motorways. Beresford was the first to voice his concern when they returned to the incident room.
‘Why the fuck did you say that?’ he demanded to know. ‘It’s not what we agreed and it’s like an admission of defeat.’
‘Hopefully it will save lives,’ Temple said. ‘There’s nothing else we can say or do to minimize the threat to drivers. So it’s our only option. If enough people heed the warning the sniper might be persuaded not to bother.’
‘Well, I’m not sure the powers-that-be will agree with you.’
Temple shrugged. ‘That’s the least of my worries.’
Beresford was right, of course. Vickery was on the phone within minutes balling him out.
‘You should have checked with me first,’ Vickery said. ‘I would have told you it’s a fucking crazy idea. It’ll cause mass chaos and misery on every other road.’
‘So how else do we stop another bunch of people from being murdered tonight?’ Temple said.
‘We find the bastard responsible. That’s how. We don’t make the situation much worse. Drivers are shunning the motorways anyway. They don’t need encouragement from us.’
‘I made the point that it’s only a temporary precaution,’ Temple said. ‘So there’s no reason to get worked up about it.’
‘So what happens on Monday when people return to work and we still haven’t caught the sniper?’ Vickery said. ‘Do we tell them it’s OK to start using the motorways again? Or do we advise them against it, in which case the chaos will continue and in all fucking likelihood the country will be brought to a standstill?’