Siege (21 page)

It was a hard call to make, but as Arley flicked through her contacts until she found the number she was looking for, she knew it was worth the risk.

In the end, she’d destroy anyone, whoever it was, to save her children.

TINA BOYD HAD NEVER
been a conventional police officer. In a career of sailing close to the wind she’d been shot twice, kidnapped once, involved in cases that had led to the murders of both a colleague and a lover, and even killed violent murderers herself on two occasions (one case had officially been deemed an accident; the other, nobody but her knew about – although both men had deserved what they got in her opinion). She’d also knowingly planted evidence on suspects, had assaulted quite a few, been suspended twice, and had finally been unceremoniously fired earlier in the year after an unofficial case she was working on in the Philippines had ended with a lot of dead bodies, and even more unanswered questions. In short, Tina Boyd was trouble to anyone mad enough to get involved with her.

But she had one unique selling point, which was the reason she’d lasted as long as she had in the Met: she got results. Not necessarily by the book. Often not even within the boundaries of the law. But the statistics didn’t lie. Of the thirty-nine major investigations she’d been a part of, or had led, including several involving multiple counts of murder, her clear-up rate was one hundred per cent. Even the most cock-eyed commentator couldn’t argue with that.

Ultimately, though, nothing had been able to stand in the way of her own volatility and lack of discipline, and now, nine months on from parting acrimoniously with the Met, she was scraping by doing unofficial private detective work, and the occasional bit of consultancy for film companies looking for her ‘unique’ take on life as a police officer. But ask her if she regretted anything and her answer would always be the same.

Everything I did, I did for the right reasons
.

Although, as she sat in her living room watching events unfold at the Stanhope Hotel on the TV, Tina realized how much she missed her old life.

She’d been planning on making dinner, but found it impossible to drag herself away from the rolling coverage of the siege and bomb attacks. The speed with which things were happening was addictive. Tina had taken part in a few sieges in her time, and for the most part it was simply a matter of waiting until the hostage-takers got bored, hungry, or too depressed to carry on. But this was different. These people really knew what they were doing, taking advantage of the lax security in the capital to launch a series of spectacular attacks. So far no one seemed to know very much about them, although, as usual, there was no shortage of talking heads popping up to offer theories. The consensus seemed to be that they were foreign extremists taking revenge on the innocent in retaliation for British involvement in foreign wars.

Tina’s mobile rang just as the PM appeared on the screen for a news conference, adopting a suitably Churchillian pose for the cameras but not quite managing to hide the strain on his face.

She picked it up and frowned at the screen.

Arley Dale.

They’d been friends once – or perhaps acquaintances was a better word for it. Tina didn’t have many friends. In fact, she was actually surprised she still had Arley’s number stored. They hadn’t spoken in months.

She was just about to click on the answer button when the call ended, leaving Tina wondering whether Arley had called her by mistake. They’d met a few years earlier at a function honouring special achievements by women and had spent much of the evening standing outside smoking, hitting it off straight away. Tina liked Arley’s bluntness and confidence, and the fact that she didn’t take crap from anyone. They’d kept in touch, gone out for the occasional drink, including one night when they both got so hammered neither of them could remember how they’d got home.

When she’d been suspended eighteen months earlier, Arley had stood up and supported her, saying that the Met needed more strong women like Tina Boyd. But she’d been noticeable by her absence back in February when Tina had finally got the push, which was fair enough. You can only stick your neck out so far when the other person insists on hanging one-handed from the parapet. Especially when you’re a high-flying DAC in the Met, with the job of being the force’s first female commissioner in your sights.

And now here was Arley calling her, out of the blue, and just as suddenly hanging up. Tina was surprised she wasn’t involved in dealing with today’s attacks. She was the kind of high-profile copper who was always in the midst of the action.

Like Tina had once been.

The phone rang again, and Arley’s name flashed across the screen for a second time.

Tina picked up. ‘Arley? How are you?’

There was a pause. Three seconds. The sound of breathing down the other end of the line. Then five words, laced with quiet desperation.

‘You’ve got to help me.’

ARLEY TOOK A
deep breath. She was taking an immense risk confiding in someone like Tina Boyd, a woman for whom the term ‘loose cannon’ might as well have been invented; but she knew too that she was running extremely short on alternatives. ‘I’m in real trouble,’ she whispered into the phone, keeping one eye on the incident room, twenty yards away, ‘and I don’t know where else to turn.’

‘What is it?’

There was no sarcasm in Tina’s voice, even though she and Arley hadn’t spoken for a long time. Just genuine interest.

So Arley told her everything that had happened, keeping it as brief and businesslike as possible.

‘Jesus,’ said Tina when she’d finished. ‘You’ve got to tell your superiors. You can’t deal with something like this on your own.’

‘I can’t, Tina. The government will sacrifice my family if they have to. They won’t let their safety stand in the way of an assault on the hotel.’

‘But why are you calling me?’

‘I want you to find them. I want you to find my husband and children. I know it’s a long shot—’

‘It’s more than a long shot, Arley. It’s a physical impossibility. I’m one woman. One woman who no longer has a warrant card or access to any police resources.’

‘I’ve got access to resources.’ Arley could hear the desperation in her own voice. ‘I’ll give you every assistance I can.’

‘We haven’t spoken for nearly a year.’

‘I know we haven’t. And I know I should have helped you over that Philippines thing. But you’re a bloody good detective, Tina. One of the best I’ve ever come across. And you get things done. Where are you now?’

‘I’m at home.’

‘That’s near Ridge, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, that’s only twenty minutes away from me. I’m in Mill Hill.’

‘I know where you are. You could have called, or visited, or something, couldn’t you? In an unofficial capacity, so that it wouldn’t have affected your career.’

‘I’m sorry. I truly am.’ Arley looked towards the incident room door, knowing she was going to have to go back soon. ‘But they have my family. Can you imagine what that must feel like?’

‘I still don’t see what I can do.’

‘I know I’m putting you on the spot, Tina. I know I’m asking you to risk everything. But I’m completely trapped here, and you’re the only person I could think of to ask. The only one I know who might just be able to find them.’

There was a silence at the other end.

Arley waited, not knowing what else she could say.

‘When did you last have contact with them?’ Tina asked eventually.

‘This morning. I left the house at seven thirty. They were all there then.’

‘Nothing suspicious? No unfamiliar vehicles? Anything like that?’

Arley wrenched her mind back to earlier that morning. ‘No. Nothing.’

Tina was silent again. ‘I’ll go over there. But listen, Arley. I would think really carefully about telling your bosses about this because the chances are I’ll turn up nothing. You have to understand that.’

‘I do. Just please, please, do what you can. And call me, will you? As soon as you find out anything at all.’

Arley ended the call, dabbed the corners of her eyes with her sleeves, pulled some more cold air through her nose into her lungs, and turned back towards the incident room.

19.37

SCOPE SAT ON
the floor against the bed, Ethan beside him. Abby had drifted off to sleep, and after checking that she was all right, Scope had let her be. Although it was clear she was still in a lot of pain, the bleeding had stopped and it seemed she’d stabilized.

‘When are the police coming?’ Ethan asked for the hundredth time.

Scope knew how he felt. The slow turn of the minutes was hugely frustrating. ‘They’ll come as soon as they can,’ he answered, yet again. ‘They just need to find out where the bad guys are so they can come in here and save us.’

‘They need to hurry up. Mom’s really sick.’ Ethan’s face was white and strained. He took her hand and tried to wake her.

‘Leave her now, Ethan,’ said Scope gently. ‘She’s resting.’

Ethan looked at him, his gaze imploring. ‘She can’t die, though. She can’t.’

‘She won’t.’

‘I wish my dad was here.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He left home. Last year.’

‘Do you still see him?’

Ethan shook his head. ‘No. Mom says he still loves me, but he’s very busy. She says when he’s less busy, he’ll come and see me. He calls me sometimes, though.’

‘I’m sure he misses you.’

‘I miss him.’

Scope wished he’d seen more of his own daughter when he’d had the chance. And yet, like Ethan’s dad, he’d left home and his family, and since then he’d lost count of the number of times he’d wondered how different things might have been if they’d all stayed together. He remembered Mary Ann as a laughing two-year-old running round the back garden on tiny legs while he and Jennifer looked on with the broad, dopey smiles of new parents full of love for the beautiful creature they’d created.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Ethan.

Scope smiled down at him. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking.’

‘What about?’

For a moment, Scope considered telling him. It was almost like he wanted to unburden himself, which came as a surprise to him. He’d never been much of a talker. ‘Nothing much,’ he answered.

Silence.

‘Grandpa brought us here as a treat. I’ve never been to London before. And I don’t want to come again now. Never.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘America.’

‘I guessed that. Whereabouts in America?’

‘Florida.’ Ethan looked at Scope again, his face calmer. ‘Near Disneyworld. Have you ever been to Disneyworld?’

‘No, can’t say I ever have.’

‘Where are you from? You’ve got a funny accent.’

‘A place called Manchester, and it’s not funny.’

‘What are you doing here?’

Scope thought of the three men upstairs. ‘Visiting friends.’

Ethan was silent a moment, his face scrunched up in thought. ‘Why are those men killing people?’ he said at last. ‘They killed Grandpa. And the man in the mask wanted to kill Mom and me too. Why?’

‘Some people like hurting other people for no reason. There aren’t very many of them, and you were very unlucky to have run into some today. I’m sorry for you.’

Ethan’s eyes flashed. ‘I’m glad you killed them,’ he said defiantly.

Scope nodded. So was he.

‘Are you a policeman?’

‘No.’

‘A soldier?’

‘You ask a lot of questions.’

‘I think you’re a soldier,’ said Ethan knowingly. ‘Thank you for helping us.’

Scope shrugged. ‘You should never walk by and leave people who are in trouble.’

But even as he said this, he wasn’t sure he believed it. Helping Abby and Ethan had already caused him a hell of a lot of grief. Quite how much depended on what happened when – or, of course, if – they got out.

Scope’s attention was caught by something on the TV. The camera had suddenly panned from a reporter to the front entrance of the hotel. As Scope watched, the far left door was slowly opened and a masked terrorist in navy overalls appeared in the doorway with a small group of children. The terrorist then disappeared back inside, locking the door and leaving the kids standing on the front step, holding hands and looking confused.

As the camera panned back to reveal more of the scene, two armed police officers, accompanied by a pair of paramedics, rushed over, and led the children away from the hotel entrance, the camera following the group as they went behind the cordon before disappearing into a mêlée of emergency services people.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Ethan, who was also watching the TV.

Scope got to his feet and stretched his legs. ‘I think they might be releasing some of the hostages.’

‘Can we go too?’ For the first time, there was excitement in Ethan’s voice.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Scope, trying to figure out a plan of action, knowing that there was no guarantee they would let Ethan go. But knowing too that he couldn’t simply sit here waiting for events to unfold, not with Abby injured and in need of insulin.

Scope sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was draw more attention to himself, not after what had gone on upstairs. But it looked as though he didn’t have much choice.

IN THE INCIDENT
room, Riz Mohammed was grinning as he and the others watched the screen which showed the three children being released.

‘Well done, Riz,’ said John Cheney, patting him on the back. ‘That was some good negotiating.’

The two technicians, Janine and Will, were both on their feet, smiling and adding their own words of encouragement, and Arley had to force herself to do the same, even though she was finding it almost impossible to concentrate.

‘The children are going to need debriefing as soon as they’ve been checked out at St Mary’s,’ she said. ‘John, can you call your people at CTC and get them to send their people over there, and then let us know what, if anything, they find out?’

Cheney nodded and picked up one of the phones, and Arley was amazed at her own capacity for carrying on in the midst of this, the worst personal crisis of her life.