Mummy's Favourite (30 page)

‘Well, fingers crossed.'

She crossed the fingers on both hands and held them up towards Hunter. He looked one hundred per cent better than he had even a few hours before. The worry lines had gone for the time being. His eyes were alive, his whole face animated with the adrenaline. It was what he stayed in the job for.

‘Charlie can you find out what addresses have been identified and who is going to each one? Bet and Paul are searching for me. I need to be able to speak to the officers directly to let them know what's happening.'

‘Will do, guv. I'll get back to you shortly.'

Hunter's enthusiasm had injected a new sense of urgency into them all. She turned sharply and almost ran to the main office.

Bet's fingers were on fire, busily tapping search enquiries into the computer. She looked up as Charlie ran over and got straight to the point.

‘I identified four addresses that he's been connected with previously. One is his mother's and one is his sister's. There's also a council bedsit he was temporarily housed in before he was sent to prison, but that was obviously a few years ago now. I also spoke to the Integrated Offender Management team and got the details of his prison discharge address.'

‘Thanks Bet, you're a star. Do we know yet if cars have been dispatched and who is going where?'

‘A car has been sent to each of the four addresses and we've already heard back from them all. The council bedsit looks uninhabited so that has been discounted and the sister's house appears all quiet. The other two; the mum's and the discharge address look occupied and the officers there have seen movement, but so far the occupants have not been verified.'

Charlie started to jot down the two live locations and the names of the officers at each address when her phone rang. It was Dick Talbot, an officer she'd worked with on a team previously. She pressed the on button and immediately caught the excitement in his voice.

‘Hi, Charlie? Hunter said you were in charge.'

‘Yep, I don't know about being in charge but what have you got?' Hunter was a bugger sometimes.

‘We're at the release address and we've just found the victim's car. It's parked in the next street. We can see the house clearly and have done a little recce, and presuming that Flat One is on the ground floor it certainly looks as if there are people inside.'

‘Excellent.' She mouthed the word
yes
to Bet and anyone else listening. ‘Stay watching the front of the house. I'll get another unit to come and watch the rear of the premises and I'll get you a photo of the suspect from before he was in prison, although bear in mind he's been inside a good few years and we don't know how much he will have changed. Let me know if you hear or see anything else. I'll let Hunter know. He's already sorting out troops to do the doors.'

She took a quick screenshot of the most recent police custody image of Bradley Conroy and pinged it down the phone to Talbot. Then she confirmed the address, got another car on the way to them and hurried to inform Hunter.

Within thirty minutes, there were half a dozen carriers of police lined up outside Lambeth HQ bursting with uniformed officers in full riot gear, equipped with batons, shields and Tasers, ready for action. Two armed response vehicles and their crews joined them and two had been sent direct to the address to be on standby around the corner should the occupants of the house leave the premises. Tension crackled through the air, almost as sharply as if one of the Tasers had let off its 50,000 volts.

She phoned Talbot for a situation report. Nothing had changed. There were lights on inside the premises but the occupants could not be seen as the curtains were closed. No one had left the building.

As she entered Hunter's office she could hear him talking on the phone, briefing his bosses. A specialist firearms squad were being deployed to do an armed dig out and a hostage negotiator had been called. They were obviously keen to deploy every squad available. This had to be done properly; the reputation of the Met was on the line. Charlie groaned inwardly. It was good that the resources were there, but it would almost certainly delay any action and nobody knew what the hell was going on in Conroy's flat.

Hunter appeared to feel the same; frustration manifest in every visible crease of his brow. Gone was the look of excitement; replaced now by ruddy cheeks, frown lines and a tone of petulance in his voice. He shook his head and raised his eyebrows as she stood to one side. When he finished on the phone, he turned towards her.

‘Bloody hell! Talk about Operation Overkill! If Annabel's in there, we need to get her out quick. The longer we wait…' He left the sentence unfinished ‘Though I suppose there're some fairly senior arses to cover if anything goes wrong!'

They caught each other's eye.

‘Let's go. I've discussed tactics as much as I'm going to. If I have to come back when the hostage negotiator arrives then I will. Never mind the Commissioner. What's left of my career could rest on what happens tonight.'

*

It was getting increasingly difficult for Bradley Conroy. Annabel wasn't responding as he'd hoped. Yes, she was talking to him, but he didn't believe what she was saying. She kept her face tilted away from him and sometimes he saw tears glistening, sometimes he saw fear. She wasn't happy and he wasn't stupid. He could see that, in every facial expression, every time she shifted her body or glanced in his direction to check out where he was.

He didn't know what more he could do. He'd cooked for her and watched as she'd tasted a tiny bit and pushed the rest around her plate. He'd tried to give her wine to relax her, but she'd insisted on only drinking water she herself got from the tap. Did she think he was going to poison her or dope her? He loved her.

It made him slightly angry, but then it was early days. He had to be patient and let her grow to love him, as he had grown to love her, but at the same time he wanted her now. Now! Hadn't he dispensed with her lazy, uncaring husband? Hadn't he put his neck on the line to do so? And for what?

He gazed across the room at her. She was just as lovely close up as all her photos and videos. There were no imperfections. She was the one for him; had been for years, and now she actually was his, he didn't quite know what was going wrong.

He caught her glance towards his wall of photos; that should show her how much he cared, how much he adored her, but instead all he could see was her alarm. Maybe he should just grab the moment and show her how much he loved her, hold her in his arms so she could feel his strength and longing. He let his eyes wander all over her body. Her top was low-cut, revealing a slight cleavage. He stared down at the gap between her breasts, watching as each soft mound of flesh rose and fell. He wanted to feel them, touch them, nuzzle against them and taste them. His body was already responding to the sight; now his head was impatient. He'd waited all these years, and now here she was, in his room, sitting on his sofa, just waiting for him to make his move.

He moved across the room and sat down beside her, allowing his leg to rest against hers and his arm to fall around her shoulders. She didn't pull away, but she didn't move towards him either. She sat still as a statue, unmoving, unresponsive, her body rigid. Her heat was against his leg and he moved his own closer, allowing their hips to meet, pulling her body into his. His head started to swim. Fuck! He wanted her now!

He stroked her cheek with his hand, pulling her head round so that she was facing him. Her eyes looked wide and wild. Maybe she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Maybe it wasn't fear, maybe it was lust, like he himself was experiencing.

He kissed her on the lips, his tongue rough with longing. She wasn't responding, so he probed deeper, his body urgent now. He manoeuvred her down along the sofa, climbing on top of her, holding her firm. She squirmed beneath him. Maybe she was starting to want him after all. He kissed her again. Nothing. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were still wide, still wild.

‘What was that?' she said suddenly.

‘What?'

‘That noise. I heard something.'

He hadn't heard or seen anything. He didn't know whether to believe her.

‘There was something. I definitely heard a noise. From outside.' She nodded towards the window.

He wanted to ignore her, but he couldn't just disregard what she said. He'd known that time might be short, but he'd wanted so much to show her his wall of photos. Besides, it was only a few hours since he'd left her house. They surely couldn't have identified him and tracked them down that quick? They were never that quick? His passion was ebbing. Her face was close to his and he wanted so much to continue, but he daren't. Climbing off her, he moved across to the window, pulled the curtain back slightly and peered out from the edge of the glass.

A movement caught his eye. He focussed on the movement and saw the figure of a man lurking behind the fence at the bottom of the garden. His hair was blonde and showed up clearly in the fading light. The man was looking directly towards his window. He pulled his head back maintaining his view without being seen. The man moved slightly to one side before talking into a telephone, a light glinting off the small screen. Another man moved into his view and they both turned to stare towards the house. They were obviously cops.

Shit! So Annabel had been right, even though she had obviously made the story up. There was no way she could have seen or heard them from where she was. He would deal with her later.

He didn't bother to gather up any belongings. All he needed was the car keys, a couple of knives and something to keep her hands tied together. He looked around his meagre belongings and found one of the headbands he used when he was lifting his weights. He obviously couldn't trust her as yet, much as he'd liked to have. He'd have to be firmer. She was still resisting him.

Taking her by the arm, he pulled her to her feet.

‘Where are we going?'

‘Never you mind. I've got somewhere else sorted, where no one will find us. But until then, you do exactly what I say, when I say. Or else…' He brandished the knives in front of her. ‘I'm getting increasingly pissed off with you and your lack of appreciation for me, so don't let me have to use them. Because I will.'

He opened the door to the flat and peered around the frame, listening and watching for the slightest movement or sound. It was all quiet and still. Slipping the knives up his sleeve, he took Annabel by the arm and led her towards the back door.

‘They won't see us from here. Quick, keep up with me.'

He held Annabel by the hand and walked quickly across the lawn into an area of bushes at the rear. There were some holes in the fencing that he'd found earlier, obviously made by one of the previous residents to allow an easy escape route. He pushed Annabel through the gap, into an alleyway and followed her out. He knew the maze of walkways in all the adjacent roads. He'd made it his business since coming out of prison to learn every minute detail of the area. Left, right and left again and the path would come out opposite their vehicle. He relaxed a little, allowing his gaze to fall on the back of Annabel's neck and the way it remained still even when she walked. The car was directly across the road from them now. It didn't look as if it had moved. He pushed the key fob and the lights flashed on and off and the locks clicked open. Quickly, he bound her wrists tightly together with the headband. It wouldn't do for her to try and escape while he was at the wheel.

There was no one following them, no copper in sight. Maybe they weren't there for him after all.

‘Follow me and get in the car as quick as you can. Do you hear me?'

Annabel nodded mutely.

‘And don't try anything.' He pulled one of the kitchen knives out from his sleeve. ‘Or this little beauty will slice through that beautiful neck of yours before you even have a chance to cry out for help.'

*

‘The target vehicle is on the move, just pulling away heading towards the High Street.'

Hunter could barely conceal his anger.

‘How the hell did that happen? Someone should have seen the suspects leaving the flat or at least getting into the motor. Get behind it,' he barked down the radio.

‘All received. On way now. It's not going fast.'

‘Thank fuck for that.' Hunter's face was white.

They watched as two marked police BMWs accelerated past the end of the road in which they were sitting, their blue lights flashing and sirens activated. Charlie pulled away too, following in the wake of the marked vehicles.

‘Are you with the target vehicle yet?' Hunter called into the radio. ‘They'd better be,' he mumbled under his breath.

‘They won't get far, guv.'

Hunter opened his mouth to ask what she meant when the radio crackled into life again.

‘We're behind them now, two occupants; one male driving, female in the passenger side. Looks like they've got a flat tyre on the rear nearside.'

‘Bunch of wasters!' she laughed. ‘Lucky you dropped me off by the flat en route to check things out. I stuck a nail in the tyre as I was making my way back to you. Not that any of the officers supposedly watching the vehicle noticed. It's no wonder it pulled away without them seeing anyone getting in.'

‘Christ, Charlie, lucky our subjects didn't see you.'

‘All done in the blink of an eye, guv. Well you should know. You're the one who taught me that trick after we lost that nicked Range Rover. Don't you remember? It disappeared before anyone was seen getting into it. Well worth the risk of being seen, I think.'

‘It is this time.'

The radio burst into life.

‘The vehicle's speeding up. Now heading towards Park Avenue. It's doing a left, left, left. Looks like the tyre is coming away. Speeding up again, now up to forty-five mph. There's sparks coming from the rear wheel. We're right behind it.'