Impeding Justice (3 page)

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Authors: Mel Comley

Tags: #thriller, #love, #crime, #murder, #revenge, #london, #kidnap, #unicorn, #russian, #woman detective

BOOK: Impeding Justice
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So, he set off the machine
gun to cover his escape! The crafty little shit. But, judging by
the amount of rounds fired, he couldn’t have got away much before
the response got there. If they had been that little bit quicker…
What else, any idea how he escaped?’


There were prints found on
the weapon, but we know from past experience they’ll turn out to be
forged, so I don’t hold out much hope on that front. It seems most
likely he made his getaway down the fire escape.’


Where does it
lead?’


Market Street. I’ve got a
couple of guys looking through the CCTV footage now.’


Good work. But, there is
one thing puzzling me, how did he know we had sent for back-up? Oh,
I know it's natural we would, but he wouldn’t know we had it at the
ready. The noise from the helicopter could have been anything;
they're always hanging about over London. Anyway, John, keep me
informed as things develop.’


Will do, ma-am. By the way
the DCI popped in earlier, said he wanted a word with you as soon
as you arrived.’

John rose as he spoke. Lorne’s conscience prodded her. He
looked weary. She may not want sympathy herself, but she had a duty
of care towards her team.
Bugger! She’d mucked up good and proper…


John, how are you holding
up?’


Fair to middling, ma’am,
Pete was a good man, one of the best. I’m gonna miss the old
bugger. Been buddies for years, in the same class at Hendon we
were.’

Tears glistened in his eyes.


I know, John. It’s going to
be hard for all of us over the next few weeks. Hey, I’m going to be
relying on your support.’

Taking him in her arms came natural to her.
They all went back a long way.

The shrill ring of the phone on her desk
parted them.


DI Simpkins...’


Ah, Lorne. How nice of you
to answer my call personally…’


You, Bastard!’ She covered
the mouth-piece and indicated to John to trace the
call.'


One step too far, Lorne.
You only have yourself to blame for that. You had enough warnings
to back off and yet you chose to ignore them. Tut tut! Perhaps
you’ll be more vigilant next time and I’m confident there will be a
next time, dear Inspector.’

His laughter sickened her, ‘Just get on with
it, why are you ringing?’


Am I keeping you from
something, Lorne?’


Yes.’ She snapped
back.

"Very well, I’ve had my fun, now let’s get
down to business. I want £20 million. No, let me correct that, I’m
demanding £20 million in cash is deposited on the roof of Great
Ormond Street Hospital within the next twenty-four hours...'


Twenty million… Is this a
joke?’


Remember, remember, the
fifth of November… Only I, dear Lorne, am not your Guy Fawkes. I
won’t fail.'


That's ludicrous. You
wouldn't dare.’


Doubt me at your peril,
dear Lady. In twenty-three hours and fifty nine minutes, oh, and
thirty seconds time, London will see the biggest firework display
ever. Speak later, dear…

The phone clicked then, monotonously purred
in her ear…

Lorne stood as if encased in ice…
The Houses of Parliament!

 

 

Chapter Four.

 

'Is he in?'

Lorne anticipated the secretary’s move to bar
her way and marched towards the Chief Inspector’s office.

'Yes. But, he's in a meeting.'

'With whom?'

'Superintendent Greenfall. And, I have strict
instructions they are not to be disturbed!'

The secretary lived up to her nickname,
Wily Fox
, as
by the time she'd said this her sly, hop, skip and jump, had her
positioned in front of the DCI’s office before Lorne could reach
it.

'Get out of my way!' Tugging Wily Fox’s
cardigan achieved nothing other than a resounding bump louder than
a knock on the DCI’s door.

If Lorne had been a lesser woman she would
have given in under the look Wily Fox gave her. Instead she tried a
shove. The resistance of the woman had them locked tight against
the door.

'I have urgent news for the…'

The words became lost in a mouthful of shirt
as a gaping hole sucked them both in. Mortified, Lorne could do
nothing. A few wobbly moments later the Chief regained his
balance.

'What in God’s name…'

It took a moment to disentangle herself and
Wily Fox.

'Sorry, Chief. I’ve just received a call from
the Unicorn and thought you should know about it straight
away.'

'Well, if it is that important you had better
come in. Thank you for trying, Margaret. Perhaps you can arrange
some kind of refreshments?'

Wily fox’s protest stayed locked behind tight
lips. Another deadly look and the door slammed behind her.

'Lorne.' Superintendent Greenfall
acknowledged her with a curt nod. His balding head shone like a
beacon beneath the office lights, his face a picture of disgust at
her abrupt intrusion.

'Sir.'

'Take a seat, Lorne.' The Chief said.

She sat down next to Superintendent
Greenfall, the man she hated the most on the Met.

'Before we find out what made you barge in
here, I would like to offer my condolences for the loss of your
partner. Pete was a fine man…One of the best.'

'He was, Chief. He’ll be hard to replace.'
Anxious to keep her composure she dare not stay on the subject
long, 'About the Unicorn…'

'Of course, Inspector. Surprise us.' The
Superintendent’s interruption had Roberts looking like a rabbit
caught in the headlights.

'He’s holding the Houses of Parliament to
ransom.'

'That’s absurd!' Greenfall’s body shifted
uncomfortably next to Lorne as he said this.

Detective Chief Inspector Roberts ignored
him, 'Go on.'

'He’s demanding £20 million in the next
twenty-four hours… Actually, make that twenty-three hours and fifty
minutes. He warned; unless we meet his ultimatum he will blow up
the Houses of Parliament. I think we should take him seriously,
sir. It’s not in his genes to make idle threats.'

'I see…'

The DCI sounded calm, but his pen raced over
his pad.

'Well, I don’t.' Greenfall snapped.

'With respect, sir…'

'Lorne!'

The DCI’s voice held a warning. Lorne
moderated her tone, 'With respect, sir, havoc is this man’s middle
name. I should know. I’ve been on his tail for the past eight
years. Only a fool would take what this man says, lightly!'

'The Inspector has a point, sir. She knows
this man better than anyone else on the Met.'

'Is that right, Chief Inspector? Then, answer
me this. Why is it, that DI Simpkins has been unable to capture
him? After eight bloody years! The fact is this terrorist has
avoided capture for that long. The Inspector here has let him slip
through her fingers.'

Lorne’s pulse thumped. How dare he question
her detecting skills.

'Have you any idea what type of person
Unicorn is, sir?'

'I’ve read the reports, Inspector…'

'You may have read the reports, but…'

'That’s enough, Lorne…' Roberts jumped
in.

'I will not stand for insubordination, Chief
Inspector!'

'I’m sorry, sir…' Roberts began to say.

'I didn’t mean from you, man, but from your
Inspector, here!'

A smile threatened, but somehow Lorne managed
to suppress it. She found it priceless watching the Superintendent,
huffing, and puffing like a raging bull in the ring.

'Perhaps you can make an exception in light
of what happened to her partner. This isn’t Lorne’s normal
behaviour…'

'Sir, I…'

'Leave it, Lorne…'

'No, let her speak. Let’s hear what the wise
Inspector has to say.'

The Superintendent’s smugness tortured her.
Temptation to wipe the self-righteous grin off his face had her
holding her fists so tight her finger nails dug into her palms. She
decided to let the reference to Pete pass.

'The fact is, sir, The Unicorn has resources
at his disposal which leave us standing. He changes his appearance
more times than I change my underwear. He clicks his fingers and
helicopters, boats or even, private jets seem to appear in minutes.
He has guns the Russian army would be proud of. Whereas, I am
forbidden to even look at a bloody gun, let alone put my hands on
one. Even protective vests are in short supply due to the cut
backs. If they hadn’t been, my partner wouldn’t be laying in the
morgue at this very moment, because the one he had didn’t bloody
fit!'

'It’s your duty to society to arrest this man
at the earliest opportunity.'

This is why she hated Greenfall, the pompous
bastard hadn’t even acknowledged her difficulties.

'How? We thought we had him cornered
yesterday, but he'd set us up. What I need, sir is special
dispensation to carry a gun. I have the necessary training. I
gained these skills in my own time with a force instructor.'

'Out of the question and besides, you had no
right to the training. The ranges are for selected staff. I demand
to know the name of your instructor.'

Shit!
'I’m…er…I can’t
remember his name, sir.'

'Actually, sir, I think Lorne has a valid
point and I’m personally asking you to consider her request. I’ll
take full responsibility, as her senior.'

Lorne held her breath. She could see
Superintendent Greenfall mulling it over in his mind.

'Okay, I agree. But, the commissioner will
need to give the all clear. What is your next step, Inspector?'

'My team are looking through the CCTV footage
from yesterday’s incident. Our priority is to get an ID on this
guy. We have clips of him from other scenes and the forensic guys
are trying to use facial recognition software to make a match.
Unfortunately, to our knowledge he’s only been spotted on camera at
three other locations.'

The Superintendent stood up and headed towards the door. He
threw a needless order over his shoulder as he left the room. 'Keep
me informed of
any
developments.'

'Yes, sir.'

Lorne spoke in unison with the Chief.

The instant the door shut behind him Roberts
demanded, 'What the fuck was all that about, Lorne?'

'He’s a prick, Chief. We both know that.'

'That’s as may be, but you've got to curb
that temper of yours or he’ll have you off the force quicker than
you can say: "I’ve got tickets for the policeman’s ball, want to be
my partner?" '

'Similar to the way he forced my father off
the force, you mean?'

'Let it go woman. God knows, your father
has.'

'Has he? How the hell would you know? When
was the last time you visited him? It’s pitiful the way he spends
every day sitting in his conservatory staring out at his garden. A
garden he used to tend with pride, which now resembles a miniature
jungle in the middle of suburbia.'

'Lorne, your father left the force two years
ago, and you know as well as I do, his decline has only happened
since your mother died.'

He came around his desk, sat in the seat the
Superintendent had vacated and placed both his hands on top of
hers.

The show of concern affected her in a way she
couldn’t deal with. Tears trailed down her face.

'Come on, sweetheart, let it out.'

Roberts hypnotic voice transported her back
to a family party five years earlier. She could see her beautiful
mother fussing over a table laden with food. It had been a hot July
afternoon and they had gathered for a barbeque. Dad dressed in the
latest obscene apron, turning the sausages and burgers while Pete,
guzzling cans of lager, talked to Tom about, Arsenal, their
favourite football team. Charlie, her angelic little daughter,
helped her grandma; carrying cardboard plates and plastic knives in
an important way.

And what had become of those fine people?
Pete dead, Mum stolen from them by breast cancer ten months ago and
Dad acting as though he couldn’t wait for the day he would join
her. Hers and Tom’s marriage strained to breaking point and Charlie
living up to the terrible teenage tag.

Thinking about it all, she didn’t know how
much more she could take.

'Don’t be nice to me. I’ll be all right in a
minute. It’s just dealing with arseholes like Greenfall. It makes
me question if it’s all bloody worth it!'

'Look, Lorne. You could do with a break…'

'No!'

'Okay, relax. I just thought…'

'I know and I appreciate the thought, Chief,
but I can’t afford the time. Not now. Not with the Unicorn active.
I have to be on hand to deal with his latest threat. I would be
letting Pete down if I bowed out. Beside’s there is something I
haven’t told you.'

'What?'

'I think we have a mole in our midst…'

 

 

Chapter Five.

 

The moment Lorne walked through the swing
doors she made for DS Fox, ‘John, that CCTV footage, anything come
of it?’


Yes, gov. A bit of a breakthrough. We have a full-on
mug-shot from Marks’s camera. Forensics is comparing it with
earlier shots,
and
a four by four on the edge of an
alley just off Market St. They’re running the plates through the
system… Storey! Got anything, yet?’


Give us a chance, boss…
Hey, wait a minute… Yes!’

Lorne and John crossed the room and looked
over DC Storey’s shoulder.


UNI 123 is licensed to a
Russian Businessman, Sergei Abromovski. He lives in the heart of
the City. Runs a business called, Trelgo Oil. I’ll start a
background check on both.’

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