by Peter Repton
‘Funny you should say that Andy. The Chief Inspector has been trying to contact you on the radio while you were in pursuit of Kempston. I pretended I could not hear him until I checked out with you how you wanted to play it.’ Roberts added. Turning away from Roberts with a disdainful look on his face in response to the news Andrew looked at Sarah Kempston, noticing as Paul had done just how attractive she was.
Standing about five foot six in her wet bare feet Sarah was wearing a tight black sweater that highlighted her ample bosom. Together with a contrasting scarlet knee-length pleated skirt. Sarah Kempston looked around thirty-two or three. She possessed shoulder length curly dark brown hair. It had a hint of auburn in it and a healthy sheen that caught the light.
The most striking of her unique, pleasant features was her large deep sea-green eyes, a much darker green than his. Sarah's seemed to radiate with a soft glow in the bright kitchen light. Her huge beautiful eyes had amber flecks at irregular distances around the iris. They shone as gold when the light caught them from a different angle. Her eyes also seemed to be at exactly the right position, neither too wide or too close together. They were perfect.
She also had a natural cupid’s bow that seemed to exaggerate the size and appeal of her mouth. The only slight negative he noticed was she had a straight upturned nose that looked snobbish, conveying a hidden hint of arrogance. He couldn’t help glancing downwards to see if her body was half as good as her face, taking in her full shapely breasts, and waspish slim waistline and well-rounded hips.
‘Wow,’ Andrew thought to himself. ‘This Kempston guy has got himself a nice piece of arse I wouldn’t mind some of that.’
He also realised that this was the first time in almost five years that any woman had made him feel this way. This change in his thought patterns was dissipating his anger at Roberts.
‘Mrs Kempston,’ Andrew inquired regaining his composure. “I need to know what your husband David said to you,” Wilson already knew most of the answer to his question. He had planted a tiny radio transmitter in her house when he had first spoken to her two days earlier.
She had not looked quite as good to him then because she worried about her husband. She had been awake all the previous night with growing concern. Her face was drawn and pale and lacked the lustre it had tonight. Even the fine lines around her eyes that had made her look much older had faded away. He assumed it was the joy of being aware that her husband was still alive, even if he was in a whole lot of trouble that had given her such a boost.
Wilson was keen to progress in his chosen career and was not always too concerned how he did it. He had reasoned that if this woman’s husband did show up here. He would be better able to detect his presence with the aid of the concealed device he had planted.
‘Any means to nail the bastards,’ was part of his personal mentor’s philosophy.
Wilson had been listening through an earpiece in the car when he heard the games room door slam. It startled him as he was focusing on the football match at the time. He heard Sarah Kempston’s outburst and realised that his quarry had shown up. Either that or someone was attacking her. Kempston must have been watching Roberts, saw him come back to the car, and then made his move.
Sarah now had a faraway look in her green, now sad looking eyes. She replied to his question in a miserable monotone.
‘He didn’t say a bloody thing to me. He just wanted me to be quiet. How can he expect me to be quiet when he just turned up like that without even a word of explanation?’ She then added with an angry tone.
‘He saw you two muppets sprinting towards the house. He said time was vital, he has a task to do, and then he legged it out of here the same way he came in.’ Sarah sighed.
‘If you two had not been out there snooping I might have had the chance to talk to him for a while and find out what is wrong. He didn’t even say he was sorry for the worry caused or why he left. I know David loves me, and I just don’t understand what is going on.’
She broke into tears at this and Wilson put his arm around her to offer some comfort. He was a hard character but felt weak in the presence of beauty. Her feminine closeness now aroused Andrew. The sweet musky smell of her perfume invaded and pleasured his nostrils. Once again a distant memory triggered deep inside his soul. He had to struggle hard mentally to close the door on that section of his mind; it was too emotional. What was it his mentor had taught him?
‘Control your mind, and you control your entire world, mental discipline is paramount.’
Looking around as he tried to soothe this beautiful woman, Andrew saw that Roberts had left the kitchen and gone through into the lounge. Thinking this to be odd as the game was still on. He soon realised why a few moments later when his colleague reappeared. Roberts flashed the retrieved transmitter at him so that the woman could not see. Then he displayed his finest wide-mouthed toothy grin at Wilson saying.
‘We will tell the Chief Inspector we missed Kempston because I was taking a shit out in the bushes won’t we Andy?’ Andrew glowered at him and regretted bragging to his junior partner that he had bugged the house. His radio then barked into life with a hiss and crackle of static. He heard the hard grating voice of his Chief Inspector calling him.
‘Wilson this is Jack Ford respond immediately please,’ with a grimace Andrew replied.
‘Hello sir, Wilson here, surprised to hear from you this late at night. Shouldn’t you be at your Lodge meeting chief?’
‘Forget the pleasantries, Wilson. I don’t know how the hell this man managed to get away from you and Roberts. But you both have a lot of explaining to do, and it had better be excellent. I will not tolerate failure in my men. I expect better, much better!’ Jack Ford paused for a few moments, took a deep breath and then continued in a less hostile manner. He adopted a mellower matter-of-fact tone that still conveyed the authority of his rank.
‘Concerning this situation, I have already got the eye in the sky up as requested. It will be in your vicinity in less than five minutes. I have also ordered cars to block the roads surrounding those woods, and a dog section is on its way to you. If Kempston stays in the woods the infrared camera on the helicopter will pick him up. They will be able to guide the dog handlers. If he leaves the woods and makes it out to the road to the west, there are only two directions he can move, back east towards the town or further west towards the river, either way, we should apprehend him, and I want...’
A huge fork of lightning lit up the sky overhead. A deafening crack of thunder boomed and rolled across the valley, echoing in the distance. The sheer volume of the noise had drowned out the rest of Ford's sentence. Static crackled and hissed from Andrew’s radio for ten seconds, the lightning disrupting the signals.
‘Sir, please repeat I missed what you just said, this bloody weather is getting a lot worse,’ he said and Ford responded,
‘Wilson I want you and Roberts to return immediately to the spot where you lost him. Signal to the chopper when it gets there. They can expand the search outward from that point. You should have stayed out there hunting your man and not returned to the house like a bloody big fairy. This man is our prime suspect, and you have allowed him to escape. I thought I had taught you to be much better than this Wilson.’ Andrew scowled, his expression darkened. He disliked the continual use of his surname given the time he had been serving under Ford's command and he hated being called a big fairy. He took a deep breath and replied.
‘Returning to the woods now sir.’ He motioned for Roberts to follow him. Wilson was hurting at the harsh reprove from his boss. He decided that somehow Kempston would pay for this if he caught up with him.
Roberts looked at the television and saw Liverpool prepared to take a corner kick. Then with a deep sigh and a sad expression he pulled up his collar and his hood then followed Wilson out into the pouring rain, smiling at Sarah on the way.
12
The toll that the run through the woods took on David was evident by the way he laboured up the ste
ep hill. His breathing came now in desperate gasps his heart was pounding hard and he knew that the police would have scrambled a search helicopter already.
On occasions, he had watched as the police sometimes searched these woods. Young joy riders on drugs would often abandon their stolen vehicles at the entrance to the woods. When pursued by the police. Preferring to take their chances on foot; usually, most of them got caught.
David knew soon it would appear. He decided to head up towards the industrial estate located on top of the ridge. He reasoned that he needed to mix with some other people soon. He would be too easy to detect with the thermal imaging camera if he remained isolated.
Some of the factories operated through twenty-four hours on a rotating shift system. There would be lots of other people up there now. He crested the ridge. Straight ahead of him was a six foot galvanised chain link perimeter fence. It enclosed the large buildings within preventing any unauthorised access.
When he reached the wire fence, he felt grateful to whoever made a large hole in it. David with no energy left within him could not attempt to climb over it. Dashing through the rusty gap, David made for the nearest building, one of the prefabricated types so commonplace nowadays. He reached the cover and safety of a small unoccupied warehouse attached to the main building.
He now heard the distinct staccato beat of a helicopter’s rotors chopping at the air behind him in the woods. Risking a glimpse through the open corrugated steel sliding doors that shielded him, David could see the pencil beam of the helicopter's searchlight probing the woods. He watched the flashing blue lights blinking through the night rain. Gathering his senses, he looked at his wristwatch realising it was now fifteen minutes past nine.
The shift workers worked an eight-hour shift from two until ten. Then the night shift would relieve them. Some of the relief workers would arrive in five minutes from now to get changed into their work overalls, to let their co-workers off a little early. David thought if he could pose as a shift worker leaving the plant at shift change time. He might be able to escape before the police broadened the search, as they were sure to do. He made his way to the rear of the warehouse out through a small red painted wooden door in the corner. To his left was a bicycle rack with eight or nine bikes placed in it. They all had locks on. After a brief search back inside the warehouse, David located an eighteen-inch iron bar.
He returned to the cycle rack selecting the nearest cycle. He forced the small padlock that secured a chain attaching the bike to the parking rack. The last bike on the rack had a saddlebag on it, a quick look inside produced a yellow waterproof cape. David put it on.
Meanwhile, Roberts and Wilson returned to the woods as ordered by their DCI. Then the helicopter arrived shortly after. They waved to the occupants to centre the search pattern at Kempston’s last location. Both officers were now soaked to the skin, feeling wet and miserable. The infra-red thermal imaging camera on the helicopter showed them as two ghostlike figures. Radiated body heat marked their position. Ten minutes later, after several sweeps over the woods. The helicopter pilot confirmed apart from rabbits; nothing else was in the woods. He intended to start a search of the nearby river bank.
Chief Inspector Jack Ford heard the chopper pilot’s message and cursed. Kempston appeared to have eluded them escaping from the woods. He barked rapid orders into the radio handset. He was instructing four patrol cars to create roadblocks at both possible exits from the area. The first set up to the west of the woods near to a wharf on the river, the second to the east on top of the hill, near to the industrial zone. Ford, angry as he paced up and down in his office at the local police station, cursed again.
The hunt continued as a police car with its siren wailing, plunged through a huge puddle of water. It aquaplaned sideways for several yards, as it rounded a tight curve in the road. The police driver could see the fear on the faces of two cyclists who were in the path of the out of control vehicle. It now careered towards them. The skilled driver regained control of the car as the tyres gripped once again when he steered into the skid. The area had flooded a result of a road drain blocked by leaves and other debris carried by the incessant rain. Missing both of the cyclists by mere inches, the police driver sped on his way.
The startled cyclist wearing a bright yellow cape turned around. He watched the flashing blue lights disappear around the bend behind him into the gloom. The police car arrived at a roundabout at the junction. It provided the only exit route out of the industrial estate. Placing the vehicle across the road, he and his police colleague jumped out of it. They intended to prevent anyone leaving. Soon afterwards, another officer arrived to assist.
This one brought a recent picture of Kempston. The police officers were able to let the workmen leave the area as they checked them all out against the photo. One man, wet and unhappy with menacing eyes, had a thick black beard and moustache. He approached the nearest officer on foot attracting his attention with a tug on his sleeve. Seeing the photo in his hand and then looking back towards the man, the officer said in a cheerful voice.
‘You are okay mate we already nicked the Yorkshire Ripper years ago. He is still banged up, and we are not after a Charlie Manson look-alike right now either so get off home.’
‘I would like to but some twat has nicked my bike!’ he said.
Having overheard this man’s remark, the police driver only six feet away recalled the two cyclists from minutes earlier. He realised that their quarry must have already fled the scene. He reported this new information back to base. Jack Ford’s tired shoulders drooped as he heard the news come in. He instinctively thought of the whereabouts of his nearest whisky bottle. Ford had not slept at all since finding the body of Kerry Harrison. He felt shattered having now been awake for over forty hours, despite the sleeping pills and whisky.
There was no evidence to link Kempston with the girl’s brutal murder. The facts were that he vanished at about the same time as Kerry. Then challenged by his officers at his home he made a run for it, this may imply guilt, especially as Kempston tried to sneak back home. He would instead have just walked down the street if innocent. Even his wife Sarah said he was behaving strangely for a few weeks before his disappearance. If this man had nothing at all to hide there what then was the reason for such covert behaviour.
Ford for the first time in his career was at a loss what to do next. In the time since the cyclist assumed to be Kempston was last seen a man on a bike could have covered over three miles. That created a massive search area. In this weather on a wet night, it meant the chances of catching him were now slim indeed. The thoughts he entertained earlier about losing his promotion were no longer a consideration. Now he only wanted to bring this monster to justice. Just for whatever comfort that would give to the girl’s parents. They were traced this evening to a village in Derbyshire. He knew he had to give the drink a miss, getting a few hours proper sleep to help him regain some focus and clarity.
13
David covered a lot of ground since the shock of almost getting killed by the out of control police car left him a trembling wreck. Getting arrested was one thing, getting killed was quite another. After stealing the cycle, David rode off on it and he soon caught up with another cyclist leaving the industrial estate at the same time. David decided to stick with him for a while, as it might appear that the two men were together, not drawing quite as much attention. This stranger turned off on a side road after a couple of miles.
David kept straight on heading towards the massive Steelworks complex. They dominated the horizon in front of him. The town of Scunthorpe was for many years just a steel town with a gutsy football team nicknamed “The Iron” and it acquired a grim reputation based on the rough and ready labourers that once lived in the area.
They flocked here in their thousands, well over ninety years before. To provide the heavy manual labour required in the early days to run these huge plants. Over the last twenty-five years, many of the older plants in the UK closed down. But th
is plant since a recent acquisition promised a good future. The new owners British Steel now employed only a fraction of the workers of former years. The town’s image improved with the income of prosperous, contented workers.
David entered the steel works amongst a lot of traffic, through one of the main entrances. The time was a quarter to ten the change of shifts was in full swing. Lots of workers were arriving and leaving the large plant. David pedalled towards the towering outline of the four blast furnaces. They were all named after former Queens of England, Elizabeth, Anne, Mary and Victoria. They dominated the skyline with their blazing lamps, looking like giant Christmas trees in the dark sky.
David made his way past the glowing, noisy furnaces, abandoning his stolen cycle behind a large gas pipe. David approached the worker's welfare building. This building was where the men changed into their protective clothing at the start of each shift. They got showered, changing back into clean clothes at the end of it. The large building also incorporated a canteen where the men could get a hot meal during their allotted break period.
Entering the building David heard the loud, good-natured banter of the men in the showers. Also, the noisy clattering of steel lockers, as the workers changed clothes. They locked away their soiled clothes and safety helmets for the next day’s work.
David went straight to the canteen, almost deserted now, deciding to order a meal. Looking around, he saw two men playing cards, drinking coffee.
He could overhear their conversation and discovered they were lorry drivers. They were waiting for their trucks to unload at the blast furnace stores. Having ordered a steak and kidney pie with chips off the menu, David sat down, trying to relax to eat his meal. Trying not to gulp it down, David composed his thoughts. He took his time to eat his meal then ordered a dessert to follow it with a full pot of tea to wash it down. The two lorry drivers now left the canteen, leaving him on his own. A large clock on the wall indicated that the time was now almost eleven o’clock.