well. Gunmen get attached to their weapons like snooker players with their cues. Bearing in mind that it’s a tell-tale piece of evidence with his prints and his DNA and maybe some of Ken Lockton’s blood and hair adhering to the stock, plus the fact that he wants to use it again, I’m sure he’ll run the risk of going back for it.’
‘If he does, we’ll collar him.’
‘You’re talking about the stake-out?’
‘Right.’
‘Which we’re asking Wiltshire to provide, but with their limited resources. It’s a bigger area than it first appears, that wood, and he seems to know it well. He’ll back himself to outwit a few coppers on a twenty-four hour watch. The question is when does he return? He’ll go by night, when he has the advantage of knowing the terrain. But does he play the long game and leave it until he’s ready to stage another murder, or will he want to collect his gun before then?’
‘He’s cool. He’ll play the long game,’ Gull said.
‘Can’t agree. Every hour that gun is in the wood it will prey on his mind that we’ll find it.’
‘In his shoes, what would you do, then?’ Gull clearly resented having to ask.
‘Go back tonight or tomorrow. I’d approach the wood on foot and be armed, maybe with a handgun, in case I was spotted.’
‘You’d need a torch.’
‘That goes without saying. And a backpack.’
‘What time would you go?’
‘Well after midnight. All of the shootings have occurred not long before dawn. He’ll need some shut-eye after last night. I expect he’s catching up right now, while we agonise over what he does next.’
Reluctantly, Gull was persuaded. He chewed at his thumbnail. ‘Are you recommending we step up the numbers on watch in Becky Addy tonight?’
Diamond shrugged. ‘Put out as many men as we can spare. The odds are still stacked in his favour.’
John Leaman made a point of his own. ‘Especially with local knowledge.’
‘We’ll stake out all the footpaths leading up to the wood,’ Gull said.
‘He’ll have thought of that,’ Leaman said.
‘What’s he going to do, then, smart-arse? Parachute in?’
‘He’ll avoid the footpaths,’ Diamond said before Leaman got into a slanging match. ‘He’ll cut across country. We’d do better looking at the map and deciding where he might leave the motorbike. I’m assuming he’ll arrive on wheels and park it somewhere out of earshot. That’s the biggest risk he takes. Does he leave italong a country lane where it would stand out or in a street with other vehicles?’
‘The street option sounds more likely.’
‘Agreed. Shall we look?’
The map of Becky Addy Wood was already pinned on the incident board. ‘You’ve got Avoncliff down in the valley with the canal, the river and the railway acting as barriers,’ Leaman said, spreading his hand across the features he mentioned. ‘Above the wood you’ve got the village of Westwood and quite a few small streets.’
Diamond weighed the options. ‘This morning he escaped down the hill and presumably along the towpath. He’ll figure that we’ll have that route covered. I doubt if he’ll come by way of Avoncliff.’
‘Westwood, then?’
‘It’s more likely.’
‘What’s this?’ Gull asked. He traced his finger along the fine double line that snaked from Westwood eastwards to the edge of the town of Bradford on Avon, about a mile off. At the top end it passed close to Becky Addy Wood.
‘Jones Hill.’
‘We should stake that out.’
‘Fine, but I don’t think he’ll come that way,’ Diamond said. ‘There’s no obvious point where he can change route if he’s seen. You know what local lanes are like, with high sides. He’s got better options through Westwood.’
‘You’re really getting into this guy’s head,’ Gull said.
‘He almost got into mine, literally.’
‘Right, then.’ Needing to assert himself, Gull inflated his chest and jutted his chin in a posture reminiscent of Mussolini. ‘We warn
‘If he does, we’ll collar him.’
‘You’re talking about the stake-out?’
‘Right.’
‘Which we’re asking Wiltshire to provide, but with their limited resources. It’s a bigger area than it first appears, that wood, and he seems to know it well. He’ll back himself to outwit a few coppers on a twenty-four hour watch. The question is when does he return? He’ll go by night, when he has the advantage of knowing the terrain. But does he play the long game and leave it until he’s ready to stage another murder, or will he want to collect his gun before then?’
‘He’s cool. He’ll play the long game,’ Gull said.
‘Can’t agree. Every hour that gun is in the wood it will prey on his mind that we’ll find it.’
‘In his shoes, what would you do, then?’ Gull clearly resented having to ask.
‘Go back tonight or tomorrow. I’d approach the wood on foot and be armed, maybe with a handgun, in case I was spotted.’
‘You’d need a torch.’
‘That goes without saying. And a backpack.’
‘What time would you go?’
‘Well after midnight. All of the shootings have occurred not long before dawn. He’ll need some shut-eye after last night. I expect he’s catching up right now, while we agonise over what he does next.’
Reluctantly, Gull was persuaded. He chewed at his thumbnail. ‘Are you recommending we step up the numbers on watch in Becky Addy tonight?’
Diamond shrugged. ‘Put out as many men as we can spare. The odds are still stacked in his favour.’
John Leaman made a point of his own. ‘Especially with local knowledge.’
‘We’ll stake out all the footpaths leading up to the wood,’ Gull said.
‘He’ll have thought of that,’ Leaman said.
‘What’s he going to do, then, smart-arse? Parachute in?’
‘He’ll avoid the footpaths,’ Diamond said before Leaman got into a slanging match. ‘He’ll cut across country. We’d do better looking at the map and deciding where he might leave the motorbike. I’m assuming he’ll arrive on wheels and park it somewhere out of earshot. That’s the biggest risk he takes. Does he leave italong a country lane where it would stand out or in a street with other vehicles?’
‘The street option sounds more likely.’
‘Agreed. Shall we look?’
The map of Becky Addy Wood was already pinned on the incident board. ‘You’ve got Avoncliff down in the valley with the canal, the river and the railway acting as barriers,’ Leaman said, spreading his hand across the features he mentioned. ‘Above the wood you’ve got the village of Westwood and quite a few small streets.’
Diamond weighed the options. ‘This morning he escaped down the hill and presumably along the towpath. He’ll figure that we’ll have that route covered. I doubt if he’ll come by way of Avoncliff.’
‘Westwood, then?’
‘It’s more likely.’
‘What’s this?’ Gull asked. He traced his finger along the fine double line that snaked from Westwood eastwards to the edge of the town of Bradford on Avon, about a mile off. At the top end it passed close to Becky Addy Wood.
‘Jones Hill.’
‘We should stake that out.’
‘Fine, but I don’t think he’ll come that way,’ Diamond said. ‘There’s no obvious point where he can change route if he’s seen. You know what local lanes are like, with high sides. He’s got better options through Westwood.’
‘You’re really getting into this guy’s head,’ Gull said.
‘He almost got into mine, literally.’
‘Right, then.’ Needing to assert himself, Gull inflated his chest and jutted his chin in a posture reminiscent of Mussolini. ‘We warn
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