The Follow

Home > Other > The Follow > Page 20
The Follow Page 20

by Paul Grzegorzek


  I put the note in the fireplace and burned it, envelope and all, then leafed through the other mail, most of which were bills. Leaving them on the sofa, I took the van back to work, my thoughts once again churning as I drove along the seafront.

  Back at work the office was still ominously quiet, people beavering away at their desks with barely a whisper. I didn’t even have time to sit down myself, however, before Kev waved me over to his desk. ‘Gareth, I’ve got a job for you. LST are sending people out to ask the local pond life about Jimmy and they could do with one extra, are you okay to go?’

  I nodded, glad to have a chance to stay out of the office. I was too busy worrying about the meeting tonight to sit down for long without someone noticing that something was wrong. ‘Yeah sure, I’ll pop down there now.’

  I headed down to the LST office, stepping into the organised chaos that always filled the room. Mike Barker looked up from his computer screen and waved. He was wearing his usual blue jeans and denim jacket and had a cigarette tucked behind one ear. ‘Ah, Gareth, glad you could join us. You ready?’

  ‘Uh, yeah, I suppose. Where we going?’

  He smiled, showing white teeth that offset his shop-bought tan. ‘You and I are going to visit all the shops along the Broadway in Whitehawk in case anybody has seen anything.’

  I looked at him in amazement. ‘You what? What’s the bloody point in that? We know that he was in Hove!’

  He shrugged. ‘I know, but there are other officers doing Portland Road and, as we have no idea where they moved him to, the command team want people out all over the city, just in case.’

  ‘Okay, I suppose it makes sense, sort of. You ready?’

  He nodded and locked his terminal before leading me out of the door and down to the car park where we got into the battered Vauxhall Astra that had to serve all eighteen LST officers as their only plain car.

  As soon as we headed onto William Street, he lit his cigarette despite the strict no smoking policy in police vehicles, marked or otherwise. I didn’t mind, as not only was I an occasional smoker myself but it looked very strange on surveillance jobs when blokes kept getting out of the car to smoke, it screamed ‘copper’.

  ‘How are you holding up?’ Barker asked, blowing smoke out of the driver’s window.

  ‘Yeah, okay. I just wish that I’d been there when it happened, then maybe I could have done something.’ I thought that the more I played the guilt card, the less strange any change in my behaviour would be, or at least the less it would be commented on. Not that I needed to pretend to feel guilty, I just had to establish a different reason in the eyes of my colleagues.

  ‘It’s not your fault matey, you couldn’t have done anything; they were armed. Anyway, they probably waited until you were gone so don’t feel like you’re to blame.’

  I gave him my best reassured smile and, although he didn’t look convinced, he did change the subject. ‘So you think this is linked to Davey?’

  It was such an obvious question that it had to be an excuse to talk about something else. ‘I don’t see how it can be anything else. Unless Jimmy was into some weird shit that I didn’t know about, but I find that hard to believe.’

  He flicked his cigarette butt out of the window before bursting out angrily. ‘Damn it! I wish we could take them down properly instead of pissing about nicking the small fry and not being able to touch the ringleaders. It’s one rule for us and as many rules for them as they can get away with. Do you ever wish you’d just worked in an office instead?’

  I considered the question carefully. I’d been a copper for so long that I never really thought about doing anything else; in fact, I wasn’t sure if there was anything else that I could do nowadays. I was too used to having the authority and the means to make a difference. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to give up no matter what job was offered in its place. ‘Honestly? No I don’t. Can you imagine me selling photocopiers or something?’

  He laughed and pulled over at the side of the road as we reached our destination. ‘Okay. You take the shops on the left; I’ll take the shops on the right.’

  We split up and went into the shops, my first one being a local TV and electrical goods store. No one in there had seen anyone matching the photo of Jimmy I showed them so I moved on, getting the same response at each shop.

  Although the shopkeepers themselves were pleasant enough, the customers were another thing altogether. Whitehawkers, whilst some are perfectly normal, law abiding citizens, for the most part hate the police with a real ‘us against them’ mentality. A few years ago a police car was lured into the estate with a fake 999 call and then ambushed by about thirty people throwing rocks and petrol bombs when it entered the close that the call had come from.

  The officers somehow managed to escape without serious injury but we had all been called in to get kitted up in riot gear and quell the angry mob. I can’t even remember what started it all off but I do remember that it had been mine and Lucy’s second anniversary. I’d taken her out to dinner at Casa Don Carlos, a particularly fine tapas restaurant in the South Lanes and my leaving her at the table had probably been one of the thousand reasons she’d finally left.

  So, predictably, the customers ranged from surly to downright rude, with one drunken idiot swearing that he had seen Jimmy abducted by aliens the night before. I left the shop empty-handed and the whole thing put me in a foul mood, the anger mixing with the guilt until I wasn’t sure which was worse – or if I could even tell them apart anymore.

  ‘This is bloody useless!’ I spat at Mike Barker as he rejoined me at the car.

  ‘Steady on mate, what would you rather be doing?’ he asked, his hands raised as if to ward off a blow.

  ‘I don’t know, but something that doesn’t involve having the piss ripped out of us.’

  He looked at me sympathetically. ‘Have you thought about taking a couple of days off?’

  I looked at him in astonishment. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that?’

  He looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact. ‘Well, everyone has noticed how badly it’s hit you mate, and it’s no shame to need a bit of time. Jimmy is your best mate, after all.’

  I rattled the door handle on the car, urging him to unlock it. ‘I’m fine. I’d be even worse at home. Honestly mate, I need to be working on this right now.’

  Barker nodded and unlocked the door, sliding into the driver’s seat. He sparked up a cigarette and offered me one which I accepted and lit in silence. He turned to me before starting the engine. ‘Look, I know it’s not easy, but just remember we’re all here if you need us, okay?’

  ‘The only thing I need is for everyone to be a hundred percent committed to finding Jimmy. He’s out there somewhere and they’ve got us doing Mickey Mouse door-to-door enquiries when we should be booting in doors and shaking people until their teeth rattle to find out where he is!’

  Barker turned back to the wheel. ‘Easy Gareth, I’m on your side, remember? We’ll find him; we’ve got the whole bloody force out looking.’

  I sighed. ‘Sorry mate, I know I’m preaching to the converted. Let’s just get back and see what else there is to do.’

  He smiled and started the car, pulling a U-turn almost before he was in gear. His driving had always made me grip the dashboard and today was apparently no exception.

  The car that was just passing us beeped its horn angrily and I glanced at the driver as we shot past, ready to wave in apology. My hand froze halfway, however, as I saw DC Steve Barnett sitting in the passenger seat, looking all around him as if searching for someone, and I felt a sudden chill as I realised that, despite what they’d said, PSD were still hot on my trail.

  31

  THE REST of the morning passed too quickly for my liking, with me spending most of it looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t believe that seeing Barnett in Whitehawk was a coincidence, but why would they still be following me? And if they were following me, surely they knew about the drugs by now so why wasn’t I i
n custody?

  I’d spoken to Kev back at the office and told him that I thought PSD were still on me, but all he had done was shrug and assure me that he hadn’t heard anything. Not that he would be allowed to tell me if he had but it still reassured me a little.

  I got back to my desk and sat down, trying to work out if there was anything more I could do to find Jimmy before I met with Davey later that day, when all hell broke loose.

  I was jarred out of my musings when Eddie came running into the office shouting that the Cherokee had been found at a house in Wilson Avenue and I stood up and began getting my kit on before he had finished speaking.

  Kev stood as well and began snapping out orders. ‘I want full containment on the premises. Anyone out of it gets followed. Eddie, give me details!’

  Eddie paused to catch his breath before speaking. ‘A PCSO was doing house-to-house enquiries after the burned-out van was found yesterday. There was no answer at one of the bungalows there, so she went around the back to see if the occupants were in the garden. She gets round there and sees a four-wheel drive with a tarp over it. Looks underneath and gets the index. It’s the one we’re looking for!’

  Kev immediately made a phone call while ushering us out of the office with one hand. Every single officer in the room, even the ones who were deskbound due to age or injury, kitted up and made their way to the car park. As we ran through the Nick, the whole place was in uproar. Officers were pulling out kit bags and, in some cases, dusting them off as they got out riot gear that hadn’t been worn for years. Everyone wanted in on catching the kidnappers.

  I got into the first available car with space in it, finding myself wedged between Tate and Ralphy in the back of a Mondeo. We joined the line of cars streaming out of the car park and drove full tilt towards Wilson Avenue, Eddie driving like a loon as he ran lights and crossed into the oncoming lane where necessary.

  In record time we were crawling up the hill towards the target address. I could hear on the radio that armed units were being deployed and briefed en route and suddenly I felt as if I might be able to get Jimmy back safe and well without having to meet Davey. I allowed myself a small smile at the thought.

  We stopped about a hundred yards short of the address, dumping Tate out into the bushes across the road so that he could crawl up and get a good position to observe the premises. The bungalows faced open fields so there was no other way of doing it.

  Tommo was sitting in the front passenger seat and he turned to me and Ralphy. ‘Which one of you fine fellows wants to crawl into the bushes further up?’

  For once, Ralphy actually offered to do something that didn’t involve sitting down. ‘Yeah, I’ll do it.’

  ‘Great. Ding, we’ll drop you further up and you can use the phone box.’

  Ralphy started to protest, not having seen the phone box, but he was ignored and climbed out as the car stopped again. I got out at the same time and waved as they drove away, trying to look for all the world as if I was saying goodbye to some friends.

  I made it to the phone box without seeing anything untoward and picked up the receiver, holding it to my ear and pretending to have a conversation. I studied the target address, an innocent-looking detached bungalow with a green Saab sitting in the drive.

  ‘From Gareth, they have alternative transport. There’s a green Saab in the drive, index unknown at this time.’ I got a series of clicks in acknowledgement as I went back to watching the place.

  My mobile suddenly rang, making me jump before I scrabbled to answer it. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Ding, it’s Kev. We’ve got two armed teams on standby. They’re going to go in once the targets leave the house. Tate has got at least three targets inside. The rest of us will follow them and see where they go in case they’re not holding Jimmy here. Once they’ve moved I’ll pick you up. If they don’t move, we’ll be going in anyway at five p.m. Be ready for a long wait.’

  He hung up before I could reply and I picked up the payphone receiver again to carry on with my pretend call. I could feel a ball of nerves in my stomach writhing around like a live thing and I had to breathe deeply to stop myself from being sick. Thoughts kept churning around in my mind. What if Jimmy wasn’t there and Davey got wind of our job? Surely he would just kill him and be done with it? What if Jimmy was there and Davey pointed the finger at me for stealing the heroin in revenge? I couldn’t bring myself to care, to be honest. The only thing that mattered right now was getting Jimmy back alive.

  Three clicks on the radio brought me back and I looked towards the bungalow to see three men getting into the Saab. They were all tough-looking and one was the man who I’d seen get out of the car outside Davey’s house. The car pulled out and drove past me, giving me a good look at them until one of them stared right back at me and I averted my eyes. I didn’t want them to get suspicious and most people will drop eye contact as soon as it’s made.

  As the car disappeared around the bend towards Warren Road, Kev rolled up in a battered old Rover. I ran over and climbed in and we shot off after the vehicle. ‘As soon as we have the vehicle you take control,’ he told me as he put his foot down.

  I nodded and moved my pressel out of my pocket so that I could press it easily as the Saab came into view. ‘We have contact, contact on green Saab heading north on Wilson Avenue. Vehicle is three up and held at traffic lights with Warren Road and indicating right towards Woodingdean. Vehicle is now away right. Three vehicles for cover.’

  We just scraped through as the lights changed and I kept up the commentary. ‘Vehicle is now approaching right-hand bend at four zero miles per hour. Standby.’

  The Saab suddenly made a U-turn, almost spinning in position as the driver hurled it around.

  ‘Tate permission,’ Tate’s voice came over the radio.

  ‘Vehicle is now heading back towards address, go ahead Tate.’

  ‘Yeah from Tate, the strike teams are in the building and have one detained. Negative on Jimmy, but they think the prisoner made a phone call before they grabbed him.’

  Kev and I looked at each other. There was no way we could spin the car without them seeing us and there was no doubt in my mind that their colleague at home had called them as soon as he heard the strike team.

  Kev grabbed my radio pressel and shouted to be heard over my microphone. ‘From Kev, teams three and four strike the Saab as it passes you, we have to stop them and find out where Jimmy is. They’ll never lead us to him now.’

  As he spoke he spun our car out into the oncoming lane and did a sharp three-point turn. I looked at him in surprise but it all became clear as two cars in the line behind us drove out in front of and behind the Saab at the same time, neatly boxing it off. The car in front of it actually rammed the front wing, driving the Saab into the verge on the far side of the road. Both cars then erupted with plain-clothed officers toting G36 assault rifles, all pointed at the vehicle now stuck on the grass.

  As we approached, I saw one of the officers raise the butt of his rifle and smash the driver’s window. Even from fifty feet away I could see the men in the car flinch as an officer did the same to the passenger’s window and yet another to the windscreen. Suddenly the car doors were pulled open and the occupants were dragged out and pushed to the ground while rifle barrels were pointed at their heads. They were searched and cuffed, and each searching officer held up a pistol retrieved from a prisoner. These guys didn’t screw around.

  Kev pulled up and we both got out, waving our badges so that we didn’t get the same treatment as the prisoners. Another car pulled up the other side and Tate and Ralphy got out and joined us. Kev took the firearms sergeant aside and conferred with him about something in a voice I couldn’t make out, then went to the Saab driver and crouched down to make eye contact.

  ‘Right. I haven’t got time to screw about. We know you’re working for Davey so tell us where Jimmy is and maybe we’ll be able to come to some arrangement. If you don’t tell us where he is, I’ll personally make sure that
you never see daylight again.’

  The driver laughed, then spoke in a south London accent. ‘Tell you what mate, you’ve got no frigging clue. Do whatever.’

  Kev bit back an angry retort. ‘Okay sunshine, if you want to play it like that, fine. We’ll throw you in a cell for a couple of days and then see if you feel like talking.’

  It was a lie of course; we couldn’t hold him for more than twenty-four hours. I could hear the frustration in Kev’s voice. Quite simply, we had nothing to threaten these guys with.

  I heard sirens and looked up to see a police van approaching, fighting against rubberneckers who were all out of their cars watching what was going on.

  I had a sudden idea and pulled Kev aside. ‘Stick them in the van with me in the middle bit, outside the cage. Throw some coats over me and leave them alone for a few minutes. Hopefully one of them will say something we can use.’

  It was unorthodox and probably illegal but Kev shrugged and nodded. We needed to find out where they were holding Jimmy and he was obviously as willing as I was to get the job done, no matter the cost or the methods used. When the van arrived, I stepped around it and opened the side door out of the prisoners’ view. The back third of the van was a cage with enough room for four prisoners, with the middle third being a storage area with a backwards facing seat for escorting officers to keep an eye on the prisoners through the cage door.

  I slipped into the middle and pulled a tarp, a space blanket and the driver’s coat over me. It wasn’t ideal but it was dark and the chances were that they wouldn’t see me as long as the lights stayed off. I began to sweat but I forced myself to stay still and listen. I heard booted feet approaching the van and then the back door clunked open.

 

‹ Prev