by Bill Kitson
‘Time to go,’ Steve told her. ‘Back to the lock-up for the motorhome.’
They climbed in the van, and as they drove away, Jessica could see the reflection of the fires dancing in her wing mirror.
It was shortly after 3 a.m. when they reached the retreat that had been their hiding place for the past three weeks. As they entered the living quarters, Jessica asked, ‘What do you do when you come back from a mission? Or operation, or whatever you call it?’
Steve grinned. ‘We call it a lot worse than that, especially if it hasn’t gone well. We usually have a few beers, relax, phone home if we can. Some of the single lads go clubbing, try to get laid. Usually with far less success than they brag about.’
‘So, where’s the beer?’
The lager was strong; neither of them was a seasoned drinker. After a couple of tins, Jessica felt as if she was floating. She was sitting on the couch, with Steve alongside her. There wasn’t much room on the seat, not for two of them, so they were close together. They’d relived the thrill of the night’s activities, chattering excitedly as they remembered the total success. Jessica felt strong, still ready for action. ‘So what do we do next?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure. I hadn’t thought about much beyond tonight.’
‘That’s not what I meant, Steve.’
He looked at her, startled. Jessica stood up and began to unbutton her jeans. She slipped them off, and her panties came with them. Before he could guess her intention she’d taken her T-shirt and bra off. She stood in front of him, naked, her head tilted, a smile on her lips. ‘What was it you said the single lads do?’
He felt the blood pounding in his head, his arousal painful. ‘And we’re both single, Steve,’ she bent over him, her breasts tantalisingly close to his face. He fought against the desire, but as if it was no longer part of him, his right hand moved to cup her breast. As he felt the smooth warmth of her skin against his palm, she unzipped his combat trousers and reached inside. He gave a soft moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure as her hand located its target. Then they were scrabbling, tearing and tugging at his clothing until he too was naked.
They stood for a moment facing one another, panting slightly, more with anticipation than the exertion. Then he reached out and wrestled with the couches, pulling them together until they formed a bed. As he straightened, Jessica was upon him, forcing him down onto the mattress, her lithe body astride him. He felt her moan and writhe briefly before he pulled her to him. Only then did they kiss.
Chapter Fifteen
Nash stared at the charred ruins, the smoke still rising in a lazy plume in the clear morning air. He’d been called out in the early hours, but the fires were raging too fiercely for anyone to get near. As nothing meaningful could be done he’d arranged for them to return in daylight. Satisfied that everyone had been accounted for, he’d returned to the flat. Becky had complained about his cold feet. That was until he’d reminded her she wouldn’t have to suffer them much longer. After that, he smiled a little sadly, there had been no complaints. But it proved how much he’d miss her.
On their return he’d interviewed all of the guards. Not that it had done much good. Their evidence, what little there was of it, told him little he either didn’t know or couldn’t have worked out.
Ruth Edwards called him on his mobile to tell him she was on her way over. As he finished the call he saw his sergeant walking across the drive from the gatehouse. She was carrying an evidence bag, with what looked like an ice hockey puck clearly visible through the clear plastic. His eyes widened with surprise. ‘No wonder the guards scarpered out of that box sharpish,’ he said.
‘Do you know what this is?’
He nodded. ‘So should you. Didn’t you go on an explosives course last year?’
She shook her head. ‘It was cancelled, if you remember.’
‘Well, that’s a stun grenade. Did you find it in the gatehouse?’
‘I did, and I’ve just had a word with Doug Curran. Their forensics people have identified the accelerant used in the explosion that blew up the oil tank: C4, plastic explosive.’
Nash whistled. ‘Somebody wasn’t messing about.’
Clara looked over his shoulder. ‘Ruth’s here.’
‘The guards can’t tell us anything. All they said is the lights went out and there were a lot of explosions. Like I didn’t already know that. All they said that I didn’t know, was that they caught glimpses of people rushing to and from the laboratory shifting cages. That tallies, because we found a load of empty cages a mile or so down the road. My first guess would be that was down to the animal rights lot, but I’m not convinced they acted alone. Or that it was them who torched the buildings.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘The fire service identified the accelerant as C4. Distribution of C4 is strictly controlled. You need to be licensed to buy it, and it’s strictly for military or civil engineering work – demolition, quarrying, that sort of thing. Not the sort of activities you associate with animal rights groups. So, if the bombers couldn’t buy it legally, they’d have to steal it. And that amount of C4 would be missed, surely. So, how come nobody’s reported any C4 being stolen. Then there are the stun grenades.’
He saw Ruth’s look of surprise. ‘Clara found one in the gatehouse, and if you look over your shoulder you’ll see DC Pearce with what looks like another.’
Pearce joined them. ‘This was in the control room,’ he told them.
‘Thanks, Viv. Give it to the boffins.’ Nash pointed to the forensics team. ‘Although I doubt very much if they’ll find anything.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Ruth asked as Pearce walked away.
‘Look at it this way. The electrics were disabled first, by blowing up the substation. That knocked out the lights and opened the doors. The fences were cut in four places, to allow access and to give escape routes if the guards managed to get near any of the intruders. The two places where the guards could have summoned help were put out of action. Then the water main was fractured. That meant the sprinkler system was useless.’
‘What about those small explosions round the building that the guards told you about?’
‘Scare tactics, designed to keep anyone out of harm’s way. The buildings were the target. The whole raid was intended to destroy the premises without causing injury. That’s my guess. Finally, they hit the oil tank, knowing the fire would travel down the oil lines to the boilers inside the building. Bang, instant inferno. A very smooth, well planned, professionally executed operation. Almost military, you might say.’
‘Are you suggesting soldiers carried out this raid? If so, why?’
‘Why, is certainly the big question, but the way the raid was carried out and the materials used points towards somebody with military experience.’
‘It still doesn’t explain how they got hold of such a large quantity of C4 without someone noticing it was missing,’ Ruth paused, ‘unless they replaced it with something that could easily be mistaken for C4.’
‘That could be anything, from plasticine to….’ Nash’s words died away. ‘Marzipan blocks,’ he finished lamely. His mind was filled with a vision of a soldier in Good Buys supermarket. He’d wondered what use the man had for so many blocks of marzipan. Now, Nash thought, he knew. And at the same time, guessed who’d supplied the files and disks Sonya Williams had given him. He kept these ideas to himself. Better to wait until he’d seen him. After he’d spoken to Steve Hirst, looked into his eyes, he might have a better idea of what was going on.
In the meantime he’d another task to perform. A personal one. And one he wasn’t looking forward to. ‘Would you take over for a few hours, Ruth?’
‘Of course, any particular reason?’
‘I promised Becky I’d take her to the station. She leaves for London this morning.’
‘Is she going for long?’
Nash explained about the new job. Ruth’s eyes sparkled with interest. ‘No problem, I’ll mind the shop.
Is there anything I should be aware of?’
Nash glanced at his watch. ‘The Director of Helm Pharm is due here in half an hour. The rest of the workforce isn’t due in until tomorrow, I guess. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if one or two turn up if they’ve heard the news on the radio, even though it’s Sunday. I’ve lined Clara and Viv up to interview them in the morning. I’d be particularly interested to see if Dr Richard North is amongst them.’
‘Mike, I want to talk to you. About us, I mean.’
Nash’s expression was wary. He could guess what was coming. He’d been expecting it. He wasn’t about to make it easy for her though. ‘Go on.’
Becky cleared her throat nervously. ‘Look, Mike, I’ve no idea how long I’m going to be away, and we’ve both got our careers to think about. For the time being I think we should call it quits, go our separate ways. Let’s not descend to long distance telephone bickering. At least we’ll be going out on a high note. What do you say?’
Nash didn’t rush to reply, he knew that would be taken the wrong way. ‘If that’s what you want, Becky, I won’t stand in your way. I’ve already told you that.’
The train was pulling out of the station. Becky looked out of the window. Nash was standing on the platform. Her last view of him was the figure receding into the distance, into her past, a rather forlorn sight. With a shock, Becky realized that he hadn’t actually answered her final question, the all important one. The knowledge bothered her for a long time.
Nash walked thoughtfully back to his car. He’d miss Becky; that was true. Miss her a lot. On the other hand, there were plenty of good looking women around. And if all else failed, there was always the beer in The Horse and Jockey. Nash grinned to himself. He could even join the darts team. His natural optimism fought its way through the sadness of Becky’s departure.
Instead of returning to Helm Pharm, he headed for the far side of town. He drove slowly down the street. He was going to interview Steve Hirst; the man he suspected had been responsible for destroying the laboratory.
He noticed the closed curtains, the absence of a vehicle on the drive. His knock at the door provoked no response. He turned away and decided to seek information nearby. Sonya Williams had just put the baby down for her nap when she noticed the car and saw Nash outside Steve’s house. She frowned, what was Nash doing there? Had something gone wrong?
She watched him walk across the street and opened the door. ‘Do you want me?’
Nash grinned. ‘Now there’s a leading question, if ever I heard one.’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Sonya blushed slightly. ‘I meant, do you want to speak to me.’ She tried to inject some severity into her voice, but failed.
‘I’d much rather talk to you, but I was hoping to have a word with Steve Hirst. Do you know where he is?’
‘No, I’m sorry, I’ve no idea.’ Not a lie.
‘That’s a shame.’ He paused, ‘Didn’t he say where he was going?’
‘Would you like to come in, Inspector Nash? It’s not exactly the weather for standing on the doorstep.’
‘That would be nice. And please, call me Mike.’
‘Can I get you a drink? Coffee, perhaps?’
‘Only if you’ll join me.’
When Sonya returned, Nash was sitting on the sofa. She passed him a mug and sat alongside him. ‘Now, why do you want to see Steve?’
‘I want to know how good he is with a saw.’
Sonya blinked in astonishment. ‘A saw? Why?’
Nash explained about the raids on the laboratory. ‘Then we have the kidnapping of Jessica North. Although perhaps kidnapping is the wrong term. Rescue would be more accurate, I guess, seeing she’d already been kidnapped.’
Sonya gasped. ‘How did you find all that out?’
Nash grinned. ‘Thank you for confirming it. I was only guessing until now.’
‘You devious so and so! You tricked me.’
‘Sorry, Sonya.’ Nash reached across and put his hand on hers. A reassuring gesture. ‘But, I’ve no proof. Nor am I particularly interested in getting any. Knowing what’s been happening at that laboratory, I’m more concerned in bringing them to justice than persecuting Steve.’
Nash’s words comforted her, as did his hand still resting on hers. She rather liked it, which came as something of a shock. ‘So tell me,’ Nash continued. ‘Has Steve got Jessica safe? And, was it Jessica who took part in last night’s raid with him?’
After some moments Sonya said, ‘If I tell you, I’ll deny I ever said it. But every guess you’ve made is right.’
‘She must be quite a girl,’ Nash commented. ‘What about her father?’
‘We don’t know where he is.’ Sonya abandoned the last pretence of ignorance. ‘Jessica’s very worried about him. He’s not strong, like she is. What you read in those files came as a dreadful shock to her, but I think she’ll be able to withstand it. Her fear is, it would break her father.’
‘Understandable,’ Nash agreed, ‘but more important than anything, we need to get him out of their clutches.’ He squeezed her hand encouragingly. ‘That’s where you come in, Sonya. I need you to contact Steve. There are things I need to know. I take it they’re somewhere out in the wilds, in that camper van of his?’
‘I’m not going to say any more.’ Sonya patted the back of Nash’s hand as she disengaged her own. ‘But I’ll tell you when you’ve guessed wrong. What do you want me to say to Steve, if and when I can get hold of him?’
When Nash was leaving, he turned and put his hand on Sonya’s arm. They were standing in the hall. ‘I want you to take care. Be on your guard. If what we suspect is true, those people will know you’re a friend of Steve’s. And, if I’ve worked out that he’s behind what happened at the laboratory, they will too. That means anyone close to him is in danger. If you need me, call me, anytime, day or night. OK, Sonya?’
‘You really think they might come after me?’ Her eyes widened in alarm.
‘If they can’t track Steve down they’ll be desperate to get that stuff back.’
‘I’ll be on my guard. But it’s a comfort knowing I can call you.’
Nash passed her his card. ‘That’s got my home and mobile numbers on it. I’ve also put Sergeant Mironova’s details on the back. Her name’s Clara. If you can’t get hold of me for any reason, speak to her. When I go back to the station, I’ll fill her in with all the details.’
She watched him walk across to the car. As he drove away, Sonya felt concerned by what he’d said, but the thought that he was only a phone call away was some comfort. As she collected the empty mugs from the lounge, the house seemed quiet, empty. It came as a surprise to her that Mike’s visit had affected her like that. She’d not felt lonely or alone since her husband’s death – having the kids around helped. Now, for the first time, Sonya realized how much she missed the company of a man.
She did the washing up, daydreaming as she stared out of the kitchen window. Imagining the touch of his hand on her arm; remembering the warmth of his contact when he’s squeezed her hand. She sighed, wondering about Mike. She knew he wasn’t married, but was he spoken for? With a start, she realized her thoughts were wandering into dangerous territory. But then, what was life without a little danger, a little excitement.
She laughed and turned to put the kettle on. She was slightly shaken by her attitude. She hadn’t been one for looking at other men. Not before, and not since. So why was this one any different?
Next morning brought guilt, which in turn caused awkwardness. They dressed in silence. Jessica watched as Steve folded the couches back, hiding the scene of what had happened. As she watched, she thought about what they’d done. From the moment he’d abducted her, he’d not attempted to take advantage. And last night, she’d more or less forced herself on him. He was certainly not to blame. He was still grieving for his wife and children. Her thoughts were a jumble of emotions: she was worried about her father, ashamed of her behaviour and thoroughly miserable.
She’d been about to ask him the same question. ‘Not for me,’ she told him. ‘But what about you?’
‘Not for a minute. I was worrying about you.’
She laughed. ‘And I was worrying about you. With it being so soon, I mean.’ They looked at each other and the awkwardness fell away. ‘That’s really good news,’ she told him.
‘Why do you say that?’
She pointed to the couches. ‘Because that bed’s a damned sight more comfortable to sleep on than those things.’
‘We’d better start thinking about our next move.’
She looked at him, teasing. ‘I thought you’d have had it planned by now. You’re the master tactician.’
‘I might have done,’ he retorted, ‘but I got distracted.’
By mid-afternoon they were no nearer the solution. ‘We know what we want, the problem is, how to go about it,’ Steve said.
He was interrupted by the bleeping of his mobile. He read the text with mounting interest, before passing the phone to Jessica. ‘I think Sonya’s just shown us the way forward.’