could hear the sirens and voices down the phone. “I’ll talk to you later. I’m at the hospital with Chris.”
“Hold on.” Simon walked a few yards away up the road. “It’s just a scare … some kids letting off fireworks but some woman thought it was a shooting. What’s wrong with Chris?”
“We’re waiting for an MRI scan. I tried to tell you. He had some sort of fit.”
“When? Why?”
“I don’t know. Dad’s here with me.”
“Guv?”
“Got to go. I’ll call you as soon as I’m free. Text me.”
“Yes.”
“Cat? Chin up. It’ll be fine.”
“Will it?”
“Yes. Chris is tough.”
The woman had gone to hospital as a precaution, shocked but unhurt. The rest of the street had calmed down.
In the armed response vehicle they were preparing to leave, after another abortive call-out.
“What is all this?” Clive Rowley said. “As if we didn’t have enough, with a real killer out there. Flaming kids.”
“Didn’t sound like kids. Men, that woman said.”
“She wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Hardly surprising.”
“Probably cap guns. You ever have a cap gun, Clive?”
“No.”
“My dad’s still got his. No caps though. He says they smelled of sulphur … give out quite a crack though.”
“Could have been caps. Could have been fireworks.”
They had scoured the streets but whoever had terrified the woman and whatever had made the gunshot noise had long gone.
“You on training this weekend?”
The ARV was backing.
“Yes. All of Unit 3.”
“Tim?”
“No. Baby should be here by then. I’m off from tomorrow.”
“My back itches,” Clive said.
It itched right in the middle, beneath the body armour and his shirt, driving him mad, but he’d have to wait until they had checked in and been stood down before he could get at it.
“What do you reckon?” he asked Duncan. “Nuts?”
“This lot? More like malicious.”
“I meant the other one. The one earlier this evening. He’s killed three women now.”
“Two. Two dead. Tonight’s was a deer rifle with telescopic, Dulles Avenue was a Glock. Doesn’t have to be any connection.”
“Course there’s a connection. Got to be.”
“Why? Coincidence.”
Clive shook his head. “I don’t buy that. No one’s heard a gunshot in Lafferton for years apart from that bloke who topped himself and then we get three women shot in three days. Got to be a connection.”
“You heard if forensics came up with anything at the old granary?”
“Not a sniff. Not yet. Give it time. I don’t think he was in the granary at all, me, I reckon he fired from the roof of that office block next door.”
“They’ll have to go all over that as well.”
“What makes you say that, Steve? That he was on the roof? They found that rope by the fire escape.”
“He jumped across. Easy enough. From the roof he’d a clear sighting down onto the street.”
Clive Rowley shrugged and twisted about, trying to get at the itch and not succeeding as the vehicle swayed round a corner. False alarms were going tohappen until everything settled down. Women thinking they’d heard gunshots, kids messing about—inevitable. Frustrating.
But there were two good days coming up—training days were always good. They reminded you what it was all about, what you were there for, what might happen and how you dealt with it. They kept you up to the mark, sharpened you. This time round they were training on the old airfield. Best of all. “Kids,” his sister said, “you’re like a load of bloody kids, running round playing goodies and baddies.”
He was off tomorrow. He might go up there. See her, see her kids. He hadn’t been for a couple of weeks. Let her wind him up about being a big kid himself. The van pulled up outside the station. Clive was the first out. Couldn’t wait to get processed and then strip to sort out his flaming itch.
Twenty-three
“You know too much,” Richard Serrailler said, “inevitably.”
The radiography
“Hold on.” Simon walked a few yards away up the road. “It’s just a scare … some kids letting off fireworks but some woman thought it was a shooting. What’s wrong with Chris?”
“We’re waiting for an MRI scan. I tried to tell you. He had some sort of fit.”
“When? Why?”
“I don’t know. Dad’s here with me.”
“Guv?”
“Got to go. I’ll call you as soon as I’m free. Text me.”
“Yes.”
“Cat? Chin up. It’ll be fine.”
“Will it?”
“Yes. Chris is tough.”
The woman had gone to hospital as a precaution, shocked but unhurt. The rest of the street had calmed down.
In the armed response vehicle they were preparing to leave, after another abortive call-out.
“What is all this?” Clive Rowley said. “As if we didn’t have enough, with a real killer out there. Flaming kids.”
“Didn’t sound like kids. Men, that woman said.”
“She wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Hardly surprising.”
“Probably cap guns. You ever have a cap gun, Clive?”
“No.”
“My dad’s still got his. No caps though. He says they smelled of sulphur … give out quite a crack though.”
“Could have been caps. Could have been fireworks.”
They had scoured the streets but whoever had terrified the woman and whatever had made the gunshot noise had long gone.
“You on training this weekend?”
The ARV was backing.
“Yes. All of Unit 3.”
“Tim?”
“No. Baby should be here by then. I’m off from tomorrow.”
“My back itches,” Clive said.
It itched right in the middle, beneath the body armour and his shirt, driving him mad, but he’d have to wait until they had checked in and been stood down before he could get at it.
“What do you reckon?” he asked Duncan. “Nuts?”
“This lot? More like malicious.”
“I meant the other one. The one earlier this evening. He’s killed three women now.”
“Two. Two dead. Tonight’s was a deer rifle with telescopic, Dulles Avenue was a Glock. Doesn’t have to be any connection.”
“Course there’s a connection. Got to be.”
“Why? Coincidence.”
Clive shook his head. “I don’t buy that. No one’s heard a gunshot in Lafferton for years apart from that bloke who topped himself and then we get three women shot in three days. Got to be a connection.”
“You heard if forensics came up with anything at the old granary?”
“Not a sniff. Not yet. Give it time. I don’t think he was in the granary at all, me, I reckon he fired from the roof of that office block next door.”
“They’ll have to go all over that as well.”
“What makes you say that, Steve? That he was on the roof? They found that rope by the fire escape.”
“He jumped across. Easy enough. From the roof he’d a clear sighting down onto the street.”
Clive Rowley shrugged and twisted about, trying to get at the itch and not succeeding as the vehicle swayed round a corner. False alarms were going tohappen until everything settled down. Women thinking they’d heard gunshots, kids messing about—inevitable. Frustrating.
But there were two good days coming up—training days were always good. They reminded you what it was all about, what you were there for, what might happen and how you dealt with it. They kept you up to the mark, sharpened you. This time round they were training on the old airfield. Best of all. “Kids,” his sister said, “you’re like a load of bloody kids, running round playing goodies and baddies.”
He was off tomorrow. He might go up there. See her, see her kids. He hadn’t been for a couple of weeks. Let her wind him up about being a big kid himself. The van pulled up outside the station. Clive was the first out. Couldn’t wait to get processed and then strip to sort out his flaming itch.
Twenty-three
“You know too much,” Richard Serrailler said, “inevitably.”
The radiography
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