The engine revved once more, and then cut out as the dinghy was thrust towards the beach, the end of its voyage in sight.
‘Sarge?’ Gavin hissed.
Reluctantly, Kay handed back the binoculars, and bit her lip.
Harrison would have to time the apprehension of the vessel carefully.
Too soon, and the men piloting the craft would simply restart the engine and power away from the beach.
Worse, if they lost control or the engine died while the dinghy was mid-turn, it could mean disaster for everyone on board if one of the large waves struck at the same time, capsizing the boat.
Kay held her breath.
She had been reassured when Harrison’s team had set up their vehicles towards the far end of the beach and pulled out thermal blankets and first aid kits. It was evident they were taking no chances, but if the occupants of the boat couldn’t swim to safety in the perilous freezing water—
‘There they go,’ said Gavin.
Kay strained her eyes in the darkness, focusing in time to see the stern of the dinghy make landfall.
Seconds later, a dozen armed tactical response officers rose from their positions along the sand and raced towards it, yelling at the occupants to raise their hands in the air.
She edged forward, keen to be involved, then stopped as the radio clipped to her stab vest crackled to life.
Harrison’s voice broke through the vicious static. ‘All personnel not directly involved with the apprehension of the vessel, hold your positions.’
She heard Gavin emit a loud sigh.
‘Always the bridesmaid, never the bride,’ he grumbled.
Chapter Fifty
Kay squinted in the poor light.
Three of the Division’s four-wheel-drive vehicles bounced over the scrubby plants that bordered the rough track before driving across the sand, heading towards the crowd gathering around the beached dinghy.
High-powered lights fixed to the roof of each vehicle flared to life illuminating the scene, and Kay swore profusely as she was temporarily blinded, despite being nearly a mile away.
‘I can’t hear a sodding thing through this,’ Gavin muttered, and slapped the palm of his hand against the back of his radio. ‘So much for being organised.’
Kay glanced across at him as the radio hissed in protest, then unhitched her own from her stab vest. ‘Here.’
He took it from her, tucking his own down his vest, and tweaked the volume so they could listen to the reports from the other end of the beach.
Kay rocked forward on her toes, eager to be a more active part of the arrests.
‘All other officers are to maintain position,’ Harrison’s voice cut through the static. ‘We have Oliver Tavender in custody, but there’s no sign of Demiri.’
‘Dammit, he got away,’ said Gavin.
‘Shh. I’m trying to listen.’
She gestured to him to turn up the volume, but when he did so, it did little to improve the sound quality.
Frustrated, she scuffed her boots at the sand, obliterating their footprints.
She’d always preferred rocky beaches – places to scramble and climb over; fossils to discover; sea anemones that would cling to an outstretched finger if provoked.
Here, the landscape seemed more exposed and unforgiving – with nowhere to hide.
‘So, where are you, Jozef?’ she muttered.
‘Sarge?’
‘Nothing.’
She kicked at the sand a final time, then wandered over to where Gavin paced near the water’s edge.
She blinked to try to stop her eyes watering from the wind and tugged her cap harder onto her head, before she became aware of footsteps in the soft sand behind her.
She spun around, her hands held up in a defensive position.
‘Detective Hunter?’
‘Mr Webster?’
She checked over her shoulder to see Gavin fiddling with the radio, a loud curse emanating from the young detective before he held the radio aloft and shrugged.
‘This one’s dead, too.’
She turned back to Webster.
The elderly man wore a weather-beaten anorak over jeans, his feet encased in a pair of old work boots and a woolly hat pulled low over his ears.
‘Mr Webster, you need to return to your house for your own safety.’
He ignored her, and instead peered around her shoulder, his eyes flickering over Gavin before drifting to the scene beyond, then back to her.
‘I think there’s another boat,’ he said, his eyes troubled. He reached out for her arm, and led her a few paces away before pointing to the darkened beach beyond.
‘Over there. I left the house to see what all the commotion was, but as I was walking along the lane, I heard a voice call out, quietly.’
Kay’s heart rate increased, and she moved closer to the old man to try to see what he was pointing at.
‘Where?’
‘See that groyne post, about quarter of a mile long? Behind there.’
‘Gav?’
‘Sarge?’
‘Any luck with that radio?’
‘No.’ He spat out the word.
Kay pulled out her mobile phone, and bit her lip.
Harrison’s instructions had been clear – no mobile phones, for fear of the light from the screen or an errant ring tone alerting anyone to their presence.
She stared at the darkened screen a moment longer, then shoved it back into her vest.
‘Dammit.’
It would go against all her training, but she couldn’t let Demiri get away. She ran through the risks in her head, discarding them one by one.
‘Gav? We’re going to need backup, so get yourself over to Sharp and bring back a team to help us.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to get a bit closer, and get Mr Webster to show me where this dinghy is.’
‘Sarge, with all due respect, it’d be better to wait. You can’t go on your own.’
She lowered her voice. ‘I’m not letting him get away. I’ll keep my distance. Go – you’ll be less than ten minutes, right?’
He nodded, his face miserable. ‘I still don’t like it, Sarge.’
‘We’re wasting time talking about it. Go!’
She watched as Gavin turned and began to jog away, his gait awkward on the sand, and then turned to Webster.
‘Show me.’
‘It’s over here,’ said Webster. ‘This way.’
For an older man, Webster set a steady pace across the beach away from the lights of the border agency vehicle and into the gloom beyond.
‘Slow down,’ Kay hissed.
‘Sorry,’ said Webster. ‘I guess I’m used to walking along here. I forget you’re not local.’
Kay gestured to him to continue, the roar of the surf obliterating any other noise around her.
As the row of groyne posts came into view, she reached out and placed her hand on Webster’s shoulder.
‘Wait.’
To her right, she could make out the outline of Webster’s cottage across the track from the beach. No lights shone in the windows, and she wondered how often the man found that sleep eluded him and chose to walk the beach at night instead.
‘I can’t see a dinghy.’
He put a finger to his lips. ‘It’s just the other side of the groyne posts,’ he said. ‘And, keep your voice down. Sound travels better near water.’
Kay frowned, unable to believe that anything could be heard over the noise of the wind and surf that was currently battling her ears.
She felt the weight of her mobile phone, safe in its pocket in her stab vest, and wondered whether it was worth the risk to switch it on and send Sharp a text message to let him know that she was within striking distance of the boat that Webster said he had seen. She discarded the thought almost immediately, knowing that if Demiri escaped because he’d seen the light from her mobile phone, she’d never hear the end of it from either Harrison or his super
iors.
Gavin was nowhere to be seen.
She felt Webster slip from her grasp.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you where it is.’
She stumbled after Webster, spray from the surf blinding her temporarily as the wind tugged at her hair.
Webster dropped into a crouch as they drew closer to the groyne posts and beckoned to her.
Silently, she followed him, wondering where Gavin was, but determined that Demiri wouldn’t get away.
She checked over her shoulder again, but still no-one followed in her wake. Turning back, she emitted a surprised cry.
Webster was nowhere in sight.
‘Mr Webster?’
She pushed her hair out of her eyes, then slipped an elastic band off her wrist and tied it back. The old man was nowhere to be seen in the darkness, and her heart skipped a beat.
She edged around the groyne posts, fully expecting to see another dinghy laden with women who had risked everything to cross the English Channel.
Her breath caught in her throat, confusion seizing her.
The beach was empty. She straightened, her thoughts tumbling over one another as she tried to comprehend what was going on. She sensed movement behind her, and spun on her heel a moment before a fist slammed into her face.
As she lay gasping on the soft sand, she raised a shaking hand to her bleeding lip, before a shadow stood over her.
‘Hello, Detective Hunter,’ said Jozef Demiri. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
Chapter Fifty-One
Gavin’s boots pummelled the sand, his breath fogging in front of his face as he ran towards the floodlit scene at the far end of the beach.
Already, he regretted leaving Kay behind, but she was his senior officer and her tone had suggested she wasn’t in the mood to debate with him.
He paused, his chest heaving, and glanced over his shoulder.
Kay and Webster were nowhere to be seen, their figures lost to the darkness.
He swore, then took off again, cursing the loose surface under his feet. Although at home by the sea and an avid surfer at any opportunity, he was used to running across it in bare feet, not regulatory lace up boots. The leather uppers and sturdy rubber soles weighed him down, making his footsteps sluggish.
As he drew closer, his eyes scanned the crowd for one of his colleagues.
Two uniformed officers were helping the bedraggled women from the dinghy.
The women were no older than early twenties, their bodies emaciated, the terrified expressions belying their confusion at being arrested instead of escaping to the better life Demiri and his men had no doubt promised.
‘Out of the way.’
An older uniformed officer brushed past him, his hand on a woman’s elbow as he guided her towards one of the waiting vehicles now parked on the track above the beach. As they pushed past, the woman threw a pleading look at Gavin, but he shook his head.
He had to find Sharp, or one of the others, and fast.
He craned his neck over the crowd surrounding the tiny vessel, and finally caught sight of Carys talking to Barnes and their DI as she helped one of the other women out of the boat, keeping hold of her hand while she stumbled onto the sand.
Gavin elbowed his way through the crowd, earning several dirty looks and exclamations of annoyance.
He didn’t care.
‘Sharp! Sir!’ he called as he drew closer.
His voice carried away by the wind and chatter around him, he reached the stern of the dinghy and realised he couldn’t get any closer.
The crowd was too big.
He stuck his forefinger and thumb into his mouth and blew a whistle so loud, the man next to him visibly jumped.
Ignoring his glare, Gavin took advantage of the brief, shocked silence.
‘Sharp, sir! It’s Hunter!’
His senior officer didn’t hesitate. He slapped Barnes on the shoulder, pushed Carys ahead of him, and shoved his way through the other officers until he reached Gavin.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Adrian Webster appeared at our position further along the beach. Says he thinks he saw another dinghy. We couldn’t raise anyone on our radios, and Hunter didn’t want to phone you because of our operational orders.’
Sharp flapped his hand impatiently. ‘Where’s Hunter now?’
‘She ordered me to come and get you and a few others. She’s gone with Webster to find the other dinghy.’
‘She did what?’
Sharp turned and waved over the crowd to where Harrison stood talking to one of his SOCU colleagues.
The DCI’s head jerked up, and he hurried over, O’Reilly at his heels.
‘Good work everyone. Time for congratulating yourselves later, though—’
‘Hunter’s gone in search of another suspected dinghy,’ said Sharp, already edging away. He turned his attention to Gavin, Barnes and Carys. ‘All of you – with me, now.’
Harrison frowned. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘Had you heard of Adrian Webster before he had phoned the hotline following the press conference?’
‘No, I—’
‘Then, he’s not one of your informants?’
‘No. Is that a problem?’
‘It means he’s one of Demiri’s. Kay’s been set up.’
Harrison’s eyes widened. ‘Demiri’s here?’
O’Reilly placed a hand on Harrison’s sleeve. ‘Let’s get him.’
Gavin’s heart missed a beat, his attention snapping to the DS. ‘What did you say?’
O’Reilly took a step back, a look of fear crossing his face for a moment before he recovered. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It was you,’ Gavin snarled, and launched himself at the other detective.
O’Reilly stumbled backwards, his hands raising in a defensive position, but it did him no good.
Gavin’s fist found the man’s face with a satisfying crunch, seconds before O’Reilly howled in pain.
‘Piper!’
Gavin became aware of Sharp’s voice through the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and reined back his next strike, panting.
A hand on his shoulder spun him round, and Sharp’s grey eyes bore into him.
‘You’ve got thirty seconds to explain yourself, Piper.’
Gavin swallowed, Sharp’s tone reminding him that the DI had spent his pre-police years on a military parade ground, barking orders. He glanced over his shoulder, to see O’Reilly staggering to his feet, aided by Harrison.
The DS wore a hunted expression, and Gavin sneered at him before turning back to Sharp.
‘O’Reilly was one of the men who beat me up earlier this year,’ he said. ‘I recognise his voice now.’
Sharp took a step back. ‘Twenty seconds left.’
‘When they pounced on me in the car park that night, just before they laid into me, I heard one of them say to the other “let’s get him”. Exactly how O’Reilly said it just now. It’s why when Kay asked to see the CCTV footage of the attack, O’Reilly told her there wasn’t much to see – he’d obviously got hold of the recording and edited it before showing it to anyone. Only two men could be seen in the video, but there were three men there. O’Reilly stayed in the shadows, but I know it was him.’
Sharp peered around Gavin’s shoulder. ‘Is this true, O’Reilly?’
Dead silence met his words, and Gavin clenched his fists at the realisation that one of their own had ensured he’d been made to suffer.
But why?
He caught the stricken expression that crossed Carys’s face as she grasped what she was hearing, and that the detective sergeant she’d placed on a pedestal was responsible for the attack on her colleague.
‘O’Reilly, get yourself over to the ambulance and sort that nose out. Harrison – we’ll deal with this later,’ said Sharp. ‘Right now, one of my officers is in danger.’
He turned and took off at a sprint, the rest of the team at his heels.
‘Where did she go,
Piper?’
‘There’s a row of groyne posts about quarter of a mile from our original position. Webster told us he’d seen a dinghy there.’
Carys drew level with them, the sound of Barnes’s heavy breathing several paces behind.
‘Guv? Kay isn’t a strong swimmer. We did our refresher training together. She can’t hold her breath underwater for long.’
Sharp said nothing, and they began to run faster.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Kay’s throat constricted.
Jozef Demiri towered over her, his white hair hidden under a dark woollen hat, a thick coat covering his shoulders protecting him from the elements.
He took a step back, and Kay began to struggle upright.
His boot connected with her knee before she could react.
Pain scorched through the joint, and Kay screamed, collapsing onto the sand as tears pricked her eyelids.
She hugged her hands around her knee and tried to think how long Gavin had been gone, and how long it might be until he returned with Sharp.
She gulped back a sob as she realised he might not find her.
They’d only had Webster’s vague description of where the supposed dinghy was, and she’d sent Gavin for reinforcements before Webster had provided more detail.
And all the while he’d been leading her into danger.
Demiri moved close, his heavy breathing reaching her ears over the noise of the surf.
At first, she thought he was out of breath, hobbled by age and the effort to move on the sand.
Then the realisation hit her with a fresh wave of sickness.
He was enjoying her torment.
‘Why now, Demiri?’ she spat. ‘We’d lost you. Why run and hide, only to show yourself now?’
He crouched next to her, the soft denim of his jeans brushing against her cheek, and she flinched before cursing her reaction.
‘I didn’t run and hide, bitch,’ he said. ‘I waited. For you. Your persistence will destroy you, Detective Hunter. You destroyed my business. I will destroy your life. Piece by piece.’
Hell to Pay Page 19