Sarah tried to smile, her lips dry and stuck together. Croakily, she said, “No, I’m fine. The meds are helping loads.”
“Can you remember what happened?”
She tried to lift her head, the neck brace having been removed. “Dunno! All a blur...hit from behind.” She slumped back onto the pillow. A look of concern came over her. “How’s Jen?”
Adam looked away, avoiding eye contact. “She’s stable. We’ll know more when she wakes up.” He thought it best not to go into too much detail while Sarah was so fragile herself.
“Do you think...it was...connected to...the fire?”
Adam knew that it was, but chose not to answer. He could feel his anger building again.
“You get some rest, I’ll see you later.” He gave her a kiss and went to see Jenny. However, he was totally unprepared for how difficult it would be to see her looking so vulnerable. He gently cradled her hand in his and whispered, “Sorry,” shutting his eyes to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to escape.
Minutes later, he returned to the corridor to find Bev Carmichael and PC Robson staring at him, expectantly. “Well?” they asked. He shrugged his shoulders.
Just then, a familiar face approached along the corridor, a face that Adam really did NOT want to see at that particular moment – Chief Inspector Bream. Thus far, Adam had managed to keep a lid on his emotions, concern for his family taking priority. But with Bream’s presence, he lost control, venting his pent-up frustrations on his former boss. He stormed towards him.
“Well, are you happy now?” he roared. Bream could sense trouble coming his way and stopped instantly. He looked scared. “I warned you that it’d escalate!”
DS Carmichael read Adam’s body language and feared that he might assault her superior officer. Part of her thought that it might be just what he deserved (she did not particularly care for him either), but part of her also knew that she would be the one picking up the pieces afterwards, arresting Adam, and facing the wrath of Bream. She stepped between them, placing a hand on each man’s chest to separate them.
“Adam, calm down,” she commanded.
“Adam, we don’t know that this hit-and-run is connected to the Turners,” said Bream.
“Really? So it’s just a coincidence that my house gets torched overnight, and then my wife and daughter are run over the next morning, on top of all the other harassment and intimidation?”
Bream looked confused, blank. He made eye contact with DS Carmichael seeking some sort of assistance, but she made no attempt to help.
“What fire? I wasn’t told about that.” He looked at the SIO again.
“Arson, sir. Two offenders. Just before we got the call to this incident.”
Adam interrupted, “There you go, that says it all, doesn’t it? You’re not even aware of what’s going on in your own sector. How are you supposed to help us, to protect my family, when you don’t have a clue as to what’s happening under your own nose? It’s a bloody joke!”
“Bu...But, I’ve only just come on duty.” He sounded embarrassed, and rightly so.
Adam fronted up to Bream. “So, what are you going to do now?”
Trying to cover his own back, he replied, “We’ll need to wait on forensic results, get witness statements...” Adam interrupted again.
“Yeah, yeah, so your SIO just told me. How long’s that gonna take? Weeks? Months? Remember, I know how the system works. My family was almost killed, Hell, Jenny had to be brought back to life already, and you’re planning to WAIT? If you’d acted when I first told you, we wouldn’t be here now.” He felt disgust and contempt for the Chief Inspector.
In a vain attempt to deflect the accusations, Bream said, “Anyway, I hear that they were hit from behind. They couldn’t possibly have seen the driver’s face. It might just be a tragic accident, nothing to do with Turner’s lot after all.”
“Yeah? Or maybe they’d been followed, and then hit from behind to make them an easy target. They’re not gonna run away then, are they? Just about Turner’s level, that!” Bream was speechless. “Just get out of my sight. You’re fucking useless!”
Adam shoved Bream to one side and strode along the corridor until he was outside. His anger had reached boiling point - he needed to let off steam. He marched around the side of the hospital, away from public view, clenched his fists, let out a primeval roar and punched a metallic door covering some maintenance department equipment.
He felt no pain, only rage and guilt.
Dropping to his knees, he sobbed uncontrollably.
Chapter 23
18:00 – Monday 10th December.
DS Carmichael entered her office, slamming the door shut behind her.
She had just spent the best part of an hour with Chief Inspector Bream receiving a rollicking over the events of the previous night. She felt aggrieved - it had not been her fault. The arson could not have been predicted and there was nothing that she could have done to prevent it from happening. She might have been more forceful in her approach to Turner’s minions, but her hands were tied, the law prevented such actions unless supported by evidence, and there was none. Besides, it still would not have stopped the arson from occurring. In her opinion, the reprimand was primarily to disguise her boss’s own embarrassment at not having checked the incident log and updates before attending the hospital. If he had, he would have been fully aware of what had gone on prior to the RTC (Road Traffic Collision), and so would not have looked so foolish in front of Adam. As for the hit-and-run, once she had become aware of it, her actions had been textbook. There was nothing that she would have done differently. Bream was just in a foul mood having been publicly chastised by Greenwood and, as she knew only too well, shit flowed downwards, and she was his scapegoat. Even so, it did not sit well with her, having to endure sixty minutes of ear-bashing for nothing.
Her annoyance was broken by the sound of her desk telephone ringing.
“Hello, DS Carmichael,” she said, abruptly.
“Ah, Bev, it’s Gerry over in Forensics.” Gerry Brent was the senior Scenes of Crime Officer.
“Gerry.” Bev calmed her voice. “Sorry, I’m having a bad day. How can I help you?”
“I’ve just returned from the abandoned car that was involved in the hit-and-run. I thought it best to give you a quick heads-up on my findings, considering the seriousness of it all.”
“Cheers, Gerry, I could do with some good news.”
“I didn’t say it was good news, I’m afraid.” He cleared his throat. “OK, so the car was a white Clio, reported stolen late yesterday from the Glebe. There were blood samples recovered from the front bumper and bonnet, as you’d expect. They’ve not been cross-referenced yet, but I’ll lay odds on them being from our victims, the Greenwoods.”
“I’d be bloody surprised if they weren’t.”
“Internally, the car was clean.”
“So you couldn’t get any prints, then?” Bev clarified.
“No – I mean, it was CLEAN! As in, every surface had been wiped clean before, or after, the crash. I couldn’t even get a useable print matching to the car’s owner. Somebody did a bloody good job concealing their identity.” Bev’s heart sank - yet another example of there being no evidence to follow up on. “I managed to get some trace fibres from the seat belts. They might help ID the offenders’ clothing, but nothing more. I’m none too hopeful, I’m afraid.”
“Did you examine the scene of the arson too?”
“No, not me, but one of my technicians did. They took samples of the accelerant, but the flames and water destroyed anything else that might have been there.”
“How about the CCTV footage, did they get a chance to view it?”
“That’s a negative. The owner wasn’t there. I understand he’s been at the hospital ever since the hit-and-run happened.”
“Oh, I see. I’ll have to get uniform to pop by and fetch it ASAP.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Bev.”
; “Not your fault. This whole case has revolved around a lack of evidence. I’m getting used to it.” She exchanged a few pleasantries and then hung up.
As she sat at her desk, the frustrations of the case weighed heavily upon her. She sighed deeply. Maybe the uniformed police officers attending the scene of the hit-and-run, or where the car had been abandoned, had something positive to tell her? She picked up the phone and dialled the extension for the Town Sergeant’s Office.
“Sgt Carrick, how can I help you?”
“Hi, it’s DS Carmichael. I was just wondering if your troops had any updates regarding the hit-and-run this morning?”
“I was just in the process of updating the incident, actually. My lads went door-to-door at Maypole Street. There were only two witnesses. Both claimed to have heard a squeal of tyres, but by the time that they’d got to a window, the four occupants had fled in different directions. There weren’t any descriptions.” Typical, thought the DS. “It’s a residential street with no CCTV coverage, so nothing found there, but we did get a dog unit to do a search. He got a bit of a scent, but the suspects split up and he lost it. Oh, and the car has now been seized by SOCO.”
“Great!” Bev said to herself. “What about the arson? Anything from there?”
“There were two offenders, both of which legged it from the scene. SOCO recovered some petrol samples and a burnt match. And that’s about it.”
“Was the home CCTV viewed? I see PC Robson took crime report details.”
“I spoke to him. He said the footage was unclear. He is pretty inexperienced though, so he might not be the best judge of it.”
“Has it been seized, sent to the techies for enhancement?”
“Not yet, I believe it’s still at the address. What with the hit-and-run occurring straight after, there wasn’t a chance to grab it. And Mr Greenwood’s been up the hospital ever since.”
“I see. Well, can you keep on it? We’ll need a copy, whether it shows anything or not.”
Bev’s initial thought, having terminated the call, was that Bream was going to love this. There was absolutely nothing, no evidence whatsoever, linking to Turner or anyone else.
The final thing on her to-do-list was to see if there had been any further news from the hospital regarding Sarah and Jenny Greenwood’s condition. She picked up the phone and having established her credentials, was redirected to the critical care team. It transpired that Jenny was still in a coma, but that she was in a stable condition and was being monitored 24/7. Sarah had been in surgery to have her broken bones reset and was currently recovering. She was as well as could be expected, considering... Barring any setbacks, the plan was to admit her for a minimum of 2-3 days for observations and recovery, and then to discharge her for home care, thereafter. It could be weeks, if not months, before she would be fully back to normal. The doctors added that Adam had been by his daughter’s bedside throughout.
Beverly replaced the receiver. At least it had not developed into a full-blown murder enquiry – yet! Although, at the moment, it was still being treated as attempted murder. She just needed a break, some morsel of evidence to link it to the Turners.
...
Adam knew one thing for sure; hospital chairs were the most uncomfortable that he had ever experienced.
For him, time had been suspended. He perched on the edge of his seat, his chin propped upon his hands, watching his daughter sleeping peacefully. She would have looked angelic had it not been for all of the wires and tubes keeping her alive. The monotonous beep of the monitors confirmed that her heart was pumping, her lungs breathing, but how much of that was due to the machines and how much down to Jenny?
He glanced at his watch. He could not recall the last time that he had slept properly. He had managed to catnap during the many hours that he had been by Jen’s bedside, but nothing substantial, nothing to alleviate the chronic fatigue and boredom. The problem with having nothing to focus his attention on was that his thoughts tended to wander, and right at that moment, dwelling on what had happened to his family was doing Adam no good at all.
His mind was in turmoil.
He felt sorrow and remorse for having let things go as far as they had. He felt anger towards Aaron Turner, his brother, and all of his gang members. He felt anger towards the police too. If they had acted sooner, his wife and daughter might not be in hospital, fighting for their lives. But, overwhelmingly, he felt anger towards himself. He had brought this upon his family. He was the one who had intervened to save the police officer, and he was the one who had tried talking to Turner, to try to come to some sort of understanding. Consequently, it was his own actions that had provoked Turner’s retaliation, the arson, and ultimately, the hit-and-run. He was wracked with guilt. Of course, the police would argue that there was no evidence to incriminate the Turners, but Adam knew otherwise, he knew in his heart of hearts that they were responsible. He ought to just leave it to the police to investigate, but he had lost faith in them, he no longer trusted their capabilities. If not them, then who could he trust? What should he do? He was lost in a world of confusion.
Adam had spoken to Sarah immediately after her operation. She was still groggy from the sedatives, but they had decided that once she was discharged, she should stay with her parents for a while. They could give her round-the-clock care and attention and most importantly, they lived out of town so she would be safe. Returning to their marital home was no longer an option; Turner knew where they lived and she would be at risk. As for Jenny, whilst she was in hospital, she had a police officer posted outside her door. Finally, the police had realised their responsibilities. However, it was more a case of having an officer present should she relapse, rather than for her protection from the reach of Turner’s gang. Either way, she was safe – for now!
The more he dwelled on it, the more Adam’s thoughts turned towards retaliation and revenge. He needed to sort this mess out, once and for all. He had tried talking, he had tried using the law - neither had worked. Now it was time for action, but what should he do?
Part Ⅱ
The Turning of the Tide...
Chapter 24
20:00 – Tuesday 11th December.
Sarah had been relocated to the recovery ward and was asleep.
Jenny was in exactly the same condition that she had been for the past twelve hours - stable and in a coma. Adam had been determined to stay by his daughter’s bedside until she awoke, but the doctors had made it pretty clear that that might be a matter of hours, days, or even weeks; it was pointless him staying indefinitely. The harsh reality had hurt him. However, they had persuaded him to go home - if only for a few hours - to get some rest, some fresh clothes, and a change of scenery. The staff would phone if there were any developments. Reluctantly, he had agreed.
The house was eerily silent when Adam got there. Christmas was only a few days away, but as he flicked the light switch and entered the lounge, festive spirit was in short supply, despite the glittering array of decorations that hung from the walls and the tinsel-covered tree in the far corner of the room. Adam felt desolate, empty and alone. He was restless - the constant nagging thought that he ought to be doing something kept gnawing away at him. He wandered into the kitchen and filled the kettle - at least if his hands were busy, his mind would have something to focus on - but when he returned to the lounge and sat in his favourite armchair waiting for his drink to cool, his thoughts drifted back to the events of earlier. He needed a break from all of the stress and tried with all his might to block the thoughts out, but they kept returning like a disease, spreading and enveloping his mind. He stared at his reflection in the blank TV screen trying not to succumb.
He failed!
Adam’s predominant thoughts were of revenge, getting even with Aaron Turner and those that had helped to decimate his family. There was no doubt in his mind as to who was responsible, proving it was not even a consideration now (unlike for the police), things had moved on too far, too quickly. Now, it was all about
getting back at those who had caused him so much pain and anguish. As a police officer, everything that he had done had been methodical, planned, by-the-book, but now he had a totally different mindset. He was determined, focused on what needed to be done, and he was willing to use any means necessary to achieve his aims.
The obvious target for his wrath was Aaron Turner, head of the gang, and the mastermind behind his family’s suffering. Having met him a few days earlier, he did not strike Adam as the sort of person that would get his own hands dirty. He did not recognise him as being part of the group outside his house, or from the arson footage. Of course, he might have been in the car during the hit-and-run, but that was supposition at this stage. No, he would get even with Aaron in due course. For now, it was his gang that Adam wanted to concentrate on.
He pulled out a pen and a notebook and began to jot down the information that he already knew. As he did so, he asked himself pertinent questions to elicit further details.
Which gang members can I already identify?
To begin with, there were the two thugs who had delivered Turner’s demands in the supermarket. Lloyd Grant had let slip that their names were Smith and Danson, and recalling the police investigation board, he knew that their first names were Archie and Mark. He had also seen them outside his house during the anti-social behaviour episodes, and for all he knew, they may have been involved in the hit-and-run too.
Who else?
There were the two arsonists. Adam activated his CCTV recording device and watched the footage a number of times in an effort to spark his memory. He recognised their faces and he could remember from the investigation board at the police station that their surnames were Cliff and Barr.
Having just viewed the arson footage reminded him that he still needed to give a copy of it to the police at some point. He made a mental note to do so, but it was a low priority just at that particular moment.
Any others?
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