Death Call (25 page)

Wherever Nash now was, it was almost certain that he knew the cops were after him, Carroll thought, getting back into the car. And if he knew they were after him, he would be ready for when they finally met. The idea of a cat and mouse game was appealing to Carroll, but the thought that their prey was armed and dangerous took the shine from the prospect of a successful arrest. Whatever happened, someone was going to get hurt – of that much he was certain.

Chapter 26

The graveyard shift were asked to keep their eyes peeled for the blue BMW and anyone that had even a passing resemblance to Colin Nash.

Carroll and Grant were told to go home, having worked for over fourteen hours straight. By the time they left the station it was nearly one in the morning.

Grant was heading up to his wife’s place, where he had spent more time than usual over the last number of weeks. She had phoned him earlier that evening telling him that he should come up to the house when he finished – no matter what the time was. That, in itself, threw Grant a little. She had said that there was something that they needed to talk about.

The Vicky that he remembered didn’t like people coming into her bed, waking her up in the middle of the night. There was no mention of solicitors or divorce proceedings, and that was a relief in Grant’s mind. After all, they had been getting on like wild-fire over the past couple of weeks and she was no longer seeing her boyfriends, much to Sam’s delight. He had begun to act more reasonably toward Vicky once she had kicked her new men into touch. It was as though she was coming around to his way of thinking, and he liked the feeling it gave him. Whatever it was she wanted to talk about, it couldn’t be too bad, Grant thought as he got into his car.

Carroll was dying for a pint, but the only way he could get one was by entering a club of some description, and he wasn’t really into the idea of loud music and kids out of their heads on ecstasy.

The thought of visiting Jeanie at the City Slickers Escort Agency entered his weary mind. Her beautiful young body, the downy hairs on her upper thighs, the pertness of her breasts – all of these images came together in his brain. It was all he could do to stop himself driving towards the agency. But the feelings of guilt he had had following his time with Jeanie, prompted him to turn his car towards home. He would go home to Sarah and get a good night’s sleep so he’d be ready for the rigours of Saturday morning, when he and his partner would once again endeavour to pick up the trail of Colin Nash.

Sarah was sitting up in bed reading a bestseller when Dan arrived. She looked relieved, as she always did when her husband came home.

Throwing his raincoat over the wardrobe door, Dan began to undress while his wife asked him what sort of a day he’d had. He explained how they were getting close to catching the killer, when he suddenly noticed a glint in Sarah’s eyes that had not been present for some time.

‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself tonight. What’ve you been up to?’ Dan inquired with a wry smile.

‘Oh, not much,’ Sarah replied, with a grin spreading across her face.

‘Come on then, out with it – you’ve been up to something, haven’t you? I can always tell when something has happened. You’re like a little girl in a sweet shop with a mouthful of chocolate....’

‘Well, I suppose you could say that something has happened,’ Sarah replied cryptically.

‘Well, do I have to interrogate you for a few hours or will you talk?’ Dan laughed as he removed his shirt and climbed into bed beside his wife.

‘I went to the hospital again today. They were going to start me on that new course of drugs, remember?’

‘Beta Interferon – I remember. So, what happened?’ Dan asked, knowing that there was good news on the way.

‘I’m in remission. The doctors said there was a mistake in the CSF test and that I’ll be in remission for the foreseeable future. I could have a relapse at any time, but remission periods can sometimes last months, and in some cases, years....’

Dan leaned over and embraced his wife, tightly. It was the best news that he had heard in an age. It meant that Sarah would become a part of the living world again, that they could, perhaps, become man and wife once again, instead of the good friends that her condition had made them.

‘I love you more than anything else in this whole, beautiful world, Sarah Carroll,’ Dan said, with a tear in his eye. ‘More than anything in the whole world....’

Sarah smiled lovingly at her husband and kissed him softly on the lips. Every time he tells me he loves me, she thought, is just like the first time.

Every uniformed officer on the beat that night was on the look-out for a blue BMW and anyone even remotely similar to the photo-fit with which they had all been issued. Colin Nash wasn’t exactly a pretty picture, but then, as Samantha, his last victim had said to herself, he wasn’t all that bad either. Or at least that was what she thought before he began to strangle her.

With three area cars doing the rounds that night, DCI Jones was sure that they would come up with something before the end of their tour of duty. With so many trained eyes on the look-out they had to find something. And according to Carroll and Grant, Nash would probably go to ground like the SAS had taught him. Only this time he wouldn’t be out in the desert, nor would he be in the wilds of Northern Ireland, where he could hide in the undergrowth. No, Colin Nash was stuck in the middle of London, surrounded by over 10 million people – most of whom were thinking about an ex-SAS killer wandering their streets with a weapon in his hands.

Even though London is a huge city, Carroll had told DCI Jones he firmly believed that Nash would stay in the area that he knew. It was, after all, his hunting ground. And if Carroll was right, then he knew it very well indeed. Nash was probably holed up in some deserted building or on waste ground, hiding in some empty warehouse or factory. If he still had the car, then he’d probably want to park it away from prying eyes, but if he didn’t, then he could be anywhere. The natural thing for him to do, Grant thought, would be to travel by night, avoiding the suspicious glances of the general public and the Metropolitan Police. So, if Nash was moving around the area in search of a new hiding place, it was probably during the hours of darkness, when the area was quiet, that he would make his move.

By the time News at Ten had been broadcast, it was almost certain that over 15 million people would’ve seen Nash’s face. Coupled with what was bound to come in the morning newspapers, Colin Nash wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere on the mainland without somebody screaming blue bloody murder. And that’s exactly what Carroll had hoped for.

By the time Grant got to his family home all of the lights were out – all, that is, except the lights in the living room.

Detective Constable Samuel Grant of the Metropolitan Police, sitting in his car, almost afraid to enter his own house. Ridiculous, he thought, taking a deep breath of air and turning off the engine.

Police matters were one thing, he thought, quickly looking at himself in the rear view mirror, but matters of the heart were a completely different kettle of fish, whatever the hell that meant....

Entering the house, Grant saw a shadow move from the kitchen area and come towards him. It was Vicky.

‘I thought you might have come home a little earlier on account of what I said to you,’ Vicky said, looking slightly disappointed.

‘There was no way I could’ve gotten back any sooner – I’m sorry,’ Sam replied, taking off his coat.

‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, seeing as you’re here, does it?’

‘You said there was something you wanted to talk about – it sounded important. Is everything okay?’

‘Everything is fine, I suppose. But there’s something that I want to ask you. That’s why I wanted you to come over....’

‘Well, what’s the matter?’ Sam inquired, growing ever more curious.

‘Come into the living room and sit down. Would you like a glass of wine or a drink?’ Vicky asked, in an attempt to make her husband feel more relaxed.

‘I’ll have a beer, if you have any,’ Sam replied.

‘Since when have you been drinking beer?’

‘Oh, it’s probably something to do with my new partner – he drinks like a fish, and I’ve been out with him once or twice. I’ve developed a bit of a taste for it....’

‘Well, we haven’t got any – but you can have a glass of red wine....’

‘No. It doesn’t matter,’ Sam said, wanting to keep a clear head.

‘So, I guess you’re wondering what all the fuss is about, aren’t you? It’s nothing bad, so you can relax. You remember I told you that I’ve stopped seeing other men?’ Grant nodded, hoping that he was about to hear good news, and not that she was now going out with them again. ‘Well, I haven’t seen anyone for nearly four weeks now, and I thought that we might perhaps give it another try. You and me and the kids. All we need to do is pay a little more attention to each other, and be a little more considerate, that’s all....’ Vicky said, feeling quite vulnerable.

‘Are you saying that you want me to move back in?’

‘Well, yes – if you want to, that is....’

‘You know that I want to. I never wanted to leave in the first place....’

‘Let’s not get into recriminations now, okay. So, do you want to come back?’

‘I’d love to,’ Sam said, reaching out to his wife.

‘There’s something else that you should know. And before you say anything, let me tell you that I love you, and that I want us to be together from now on....’

‘What is it? You’re not sick or anything, are you?’

‘Not exactly. I’m pregnant.’

Sam sat back on the sofa and rubbed his jaw in disbelief. The question that came immediately to his mind had to have an answer before he could consider how he felt about the situation.

‘Is it mine?’

‘Yes. I haven’t slept with anyone else since you moved out,’ Vicky said, hoping that her husband would believe her.

‘So it’s mine, I mean ours?’ Sam asked, trying to come to terms with the idea of becoming a father again.

‘Yes, Sammy, it’s all ours....’

Sam reached out and pulled his wife close to him and hugged her tightly. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of. The prospect of a fourth child ran screaming through Grant’s mind as he held his wife in his arms. This, he thought, will bring us back together – back to the way we used to be. Back to being a family. Detective Constable Samuel Grant was coming home to stay.

Chapter 27

PC Williams was the first to spot the blue BMW in the rail yards behind St. Pancras station. It was around nine in the morning, and the early patrol was just beginning its rounds of the area when Williams and his partner located the car.

Pulling up a short distance from the vehicle, the first thing PC Williams did was radio back to base. Upon hearing that they had found the BMW, DCI Jones had informed the two officers on the scene that they were to keep the area secure, but not to approach the car. Given that they were dealing with an ex-SAS man, nothing could be taken for granted. Anything from booby-traps to possible sniper fire could await their prying eyes, Jones had warned. And besides, it was a job for CID and the Special Operations boys.

Wheeler and Thompson were the first detectives on the scene, with Carroll and Grant hot on their heels.

Although unarmed, Wheeler and Thompson decided to go and have a look at the suspect vehicle in an effort to establish if Nash was still in the car, and if not, where he might have gone. Back-up, they were told, would be on the scene as soon as was humanly possible, and Jones had told them to stay out of harm’s way in the meantime.

The car, with its broken rear driver’s side window, stood silently in a quiet but oily corner of the freight yard, surrounded by empty freight coaches and unused train tracks.

Huge tracts of land in the area looked as if they had been deserted by all living things. Only the carcasses of trains left to rot in the dreary London air broke up the emptiness of the area. No one, not even British Rail employees, visited the place. The only humans ever to be found in the area were usually homeless old men with a love of whiskey and a hatred of company.

There was no visible damage to the car, other than the broken side window. Wheeler studied the car from a distance, before slowly approaching.

‘We’d best make sure there’s nothing underneath – you never know what that psycho might have rigged up under the car,’ Thompson said.

Wheeler lowered himself to the ground and looked under the car. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place. His hands were now covered in oil. Thompson, following his partner’s lead, checked the wheel-arches and found nothing.

Carroll and Grant arrived in their car, followed by a squad car containing two more uniformed officers.

‘What’s the score,’ Dan asked, as he got out of the car.

‘PC Williams found the car about fifteen minutes ago. No sign of our man, though. He could be anywhere by now,’ Thompson replied.

‘Well, if he’s around we’ll find him,’ Dan said, turning to Grant. ‘Get Jones on the blower and tell him to organise a check with every security guard in the area. If anything turns up we can go and have a look. If he’s in the area, the chances are that he’s in a train carriage or a deserted building,’ Carroll said, looking around the freight yard and then at the oil-covered ground beneath his feet.