The Curious Mind of Inspector Angel (11 page)

‘No! No!’ Schuster screamed.

He looked down at Schuster and said, ‘For the last time, where is my constable and what is the name of your accomplices?’

‘I don’t know,’ Schuster cried. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t know, because I don’t.’

Angel raised his arms to yank the rope.

Gawber said, ‘You can’t do this. It might not carry his weight. You might kill him. Stop it!’

Angel gave the rope a mighty yank.

Schuster’s legs slid across the floorboards and went up in the air followed by the rest of him.

He swung upside down over the road below in the cold night, screaming like a banshee on hot coals. He swung to and fro four times like a pendulum. He screamed louder at each swing, then suddenly out of the blackness, he yelled, ‘All right, Inspector. I’ll tell you all I know. Pull me in. For god’s sake, pull me in.’

The rope steadied then began a slow rotating action.

‘Stop it moving and pull me in. Have some pity, for god’s sake.’

Angel hung anxiously onto his end of the rope and said, ‘Talk, Schuster. Talk.’

‘It’s my landlord. I owe him four month’s rent. If I don’t pay him, I’ll be out in the street. He promised me £100,000 out of this deal. I was going to retire. That’s all I know. Now pull me in.’

‘And what’s your landlord’s name?’

He didn’t answer straight away. Then he said, ‘He’ll kill me for telling you. It’s Jondorf. Harry Jondorf. Now pull me in, I beg of you.’

‘And where’s my lad, Ahmed?’

‘I don’t know.’

Angel released his grip momentarily. The pulley wheel turned a quarter of a revolution. Schuster dropped twelve inches and stopped with a jerk. The machinery rattled dangerously.

He screamed. ‘
Don’t do that. I honestly don’t know
!’

‘I could so easily let go of this rope and you’d go sailing down into the street below.’

Schuster groaned. ‘I don’t know where your man is. Honestly, Inspector Angel. He said he didn’t trust me with all the details. Jondorf said he would deal with all that side of the job himself.’

Angel continued. ‘Who else is in this … crooked scheme of yours?’

‘Nobody else. Just the two of us.’

‘Thought so. And where do you think Jondorf has got my lad stashed away? You must have an inkling.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, where do you think?’ he bawled.

‘I’ve really no idea. I’ve told you all I know. For pity’s sake, pull me in.’

Angel’s mobile phone rang. He was going to ignore it. He looked across at Gawber, who said, ‘Might be about Ahmed.’

Schuster groaned, ‘Pull me in, Inspector. I’ve told you all I know.’

With one hand Angel gripped the rope while he fished in his pocket for the mobile. He pulled it out and passed it across to Gawber, who opened it, listened for half a minute or so, muttered something into it, then switched it off and passed it back to him.

‘It’s from a uniformed patrolman, Evans, sir … about a saloon car with false number plates you wanted a report on. Well, it has just been seen with a driver fitting the description you gave of the man calling himself George Fryer, speeding up Wakefield Road. Evans has lost him, but he thought you’d want to know.’

Angel’s eyebrows shot up. He looked through the dark at the man on the end of the rope. ‘That’s one of the two people who approached me, Schuster, that I referred to.’

Schuster said, ‘It’s the same man. That’s the other name he uses.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Jondorf and Fryer are one and the same. He bought this mill from a man called George Fryer. He uses the name for some business things. Now for god’s sake pull me in. I’m feeling sick. I’m going to throw up. I’m going to die.’

Angel’s brain was working faster than a Broadband connection. ‘Where is he now?’

‘He’ll be at the railway arches ready for the pick up, I suppose,’ Schuster wailed.

‘But why was he speeding on Wakefield Road? It’s nowhere near there.’

‘Dunno. He owns some property up there, and he garages his own cars there. He has several. Now please pull me in.’

Angel brightened. ‘Lock-ups?’ he said. ‘Whereabouts?’

‘Don’t know. Somewhere on the Watersley Estate.’

‘How many?’

‘Don’t know. Please pull me in. I’m feeling dizzy.’

‘What’s the time, Ron?’ Angel asked as he reached over to the pulley wheel arm, swung it in, and quickly slackened off the rope to lower Schuster to a horizontal position on the deck.

Schuster gave a huge sigh and made no effort to move or sit upright.

Gawber shone his torch on his wrist. ‘5.35.’

‘We’ll never make it,’ he said. He turned to Schuster. ‘Somebody will come back for you. Don’t go anywhere.’

Schuster groaned: he knew he couldn’t move.

The two men made for the stairs.

It took Angel eight minutes to reach the Watersley Estate off Wakefield Road. Most houses had lights in their windows. Householders were obviously snuggled up for the evening. He quickly toured round it and his heart sunk. He found lock-up garages all right, but there were such a lot of them. Watersley Estate was extensive and he supposed there must be one lock-up for each household or flat.

The estate consisted of four huge blocks of flats. Next to each block was a row of lock-ups. There were eighteen in a row, opposite another eighteen, then near the next block of flats another eighteen, times two, then again, twice more. That totalled a 144 lock-up garages.

Angel returned to the first block and stopped his car. He stared at Gawber and said, ‘Where are we going to start?’

Gawber shook his head. It seemed an impossible task. ‘We can’t break into
every
lock-up. There isn’t time. We don’t even know if Ahmed’s hidden in
any
of them. Or even if he’s still alive.’

Angel wrinkled his nose, shrugged and said, pointedly, ‘What else can we do? Where else should we look?’

Gawber nodded in agreement and they both leaped out of the car.

‘You take this first block and I’ll take the block opposite.’

Angel went up to the first lock-up garage and banged the torch three times on the metal door, then shouted, ‘Ahmed! Ahmed! Are you in there?’ Then he waited, ear to the door, listening for the slightest noise, while silently counting to ten. ‘Are you in there, Ahmed?’ When he heard nothing, he moved to the next lock-up and repeated the exercise. Meanwhile, Gawber went through a similar routine along the row opposite. They each finished a block of eighteen in about five minutes and met at Angel’s car. If it had been daylight, each would have seen the look of despair and hopelessness on the other’s face.

There was nobody about. They were lone voices in the night. It was too cold for civilized people to be outside. The cold was getting colder, the fog thicker, the night blacker and the quiet unnerving. It was the sort of night a dowdy little woman somewhere might be feeling the edge of a carving knife while eyeing the fat neck of her drunken husband.

Angel and Gawber got in the car to move onto the second block.

Gawber said, ‘Do you think our time would be better spent chasing after this Jondorf character? If we could arrest him, he might then tell us where Ahmed was.’

Angel sighed. ‘I don’t know. It’s full of ifs and mights, isn’t it? He’d not be inclined to tell us where Ahmed was, because by that he would be admitting his guilt. So it isn’t as easy as all that. The physical well-being of Ahmed is, without doubt, our first priority. Once we have found him and done the best – the very best – we can for him, then we can put our best efforts into finding and arresting Jondorf.’

Gawber nodded. He had to agree. His boss always had the knack of analysing a situation and making sound decisions.

They started the knocking and calling business on the next two blocks of thirty-six garages. Time was not on their side. Then, at the next to the last garage, of his eighteen, Angel thought he had a response. He banged the torch three times on the metal door, then shouted, ‘Ahmed! Ahmed! Are you in there?’ Then he waited, ear to the door, and listened and thought he heard a faint banging noise. Two, three, four, then five times.

His heart leapt.

He called again. ‘Ahmed! Ahmed! Is that you?’

He held his breath, listened and heard the same banging noise. His pulse raced.

‘Hang on in there, Ahmed. Hang on. We’re coming in for you! Won’t be long!’

Gawber heard Angel’s whoops and ran across. ‘How are we going to get in, sir?’

They eyed the door, and the lock on the handle, and tried to turn it. Of course, it was locked.

‘Brute force,’ Angel said. ‘There are two tyre levers in my boot.’

Five minutes later, they had the door off its hinges and leaning against the next garage. They shone their torches onto a car. It was the one with the false number plates that sailed out of the car park of the Fat Duck. Angel’s pulse throbbed in his ears. There was more banging from the boot. Angel opened it up. He shone a light on a slim figure in police uniform, hands and ankles tied with rope and with tape over his mouth. It
was
Ahmed. He blinked in response to the torchlight. Angel’s heart pounded as he removed the tape with a quick pull.

‘Are you all right, Ahmed?’

‘Yes, sir. I am now,’ he said brightly. ‘Am I
glad
to see you, sir?’ he said with a big smile.

Angel felt a warm glow in his breast. But he sniffed and said, ‘I’m docking you a half day’s pay for being absent without permission.’

Ahmed grinned.

‘It should be a lot more,’ Angel added. ‘Where’s Jondorf?’

‘Who, sir?’

‘The man who kidnapped you.’

‘Don’t know, sir. He dumped me here a while ago.’

Gawber pulled out a scout knife and began cutting through the rope.

‘How did you let yourself get into this mess?’

‘He had a gun, sir. I didn’t have much choice.’

Angel’s eyebrows shot up. He exchanged glances with Gawber. ‘A gun? What make of gun?’

‘A handgun, sir. Don’t know what … make … or model.’

‘Did you see his face? Would you be able to recognize him if you saw him again?’

‘Oh yes,’ Ahmed said smiling confidently.

That sent a shudder down Angel’s spine. Ahmed didn’t realize it, but Jondorf must have intended murdering him. If Jondorf had intended no harm, he would certainly have taken precautions not to be able to be identified by him.

Angel and Gawber helped Ahmed out of the car boot. He seemed all right. All were much relieved. They made for Angel’s car.

‘What time is it, Ron?’ he said as they climbed into the car.

‘It’s 5.50, sir.’

Angel started the car and pointed the bonnet towards the main road. ‘Phone HQ and ask them to get a driver to call in the armoury and draw out a Walther PPK/S and a full clip of eight rounds, in my name. I know it’s a bit unusual, but tell him it’s an emergency. Then tell him to meet us asap, no blues or twos, at Low Lane on the way to Wath Road arches. I want him to take Ahmed home.’

‘Right, sir,’ Gawber said pulling out his mobile.

Angel turned out of the estate onto the main road and headed down towards the railway arches.

Gawber busied himself on the phone and the arrangements were soon completed.

Then Angel said, ‘Ahmed. Have you got your mobile?’

‘No, sir. The man took it off me.’

‘Borrow the sergeant’s and phone your mother and be quick about it. Tell her you’re all right, you’ll be home in a few minutes, and she can kill the fatted calf.’

Ahmed blinked and looked puzzled at Gawber as he took his phone. Gawber merely smiled.

Ahmed made the call. There was rejoicing and a few tears at both ends of the phone. Angel swallowed and smiled thankfully.

‘Ahmed,’ Angel said. ‘Before you leave us, I want your shirt. Get it off.’

The young lad stared at Gawber looking for an explanation. Gawber shrugged.

‘And has anybody got any string?’

Nobody had any string.

‘And your tie,’ Angel added.

Ahmed looked amazed, but he knew better than to question it.

A few minutes later as they ran onto Low Lane, only a minute from the railway arches, Angel stopped the car and took Ahmed’s shirt and tie round to the back of the car and opened the boot.

A police car glided silently behind him and stopped. The driver got out.

‘There’s your taxi, Ahmed,’ Angel yelled. ‘Give my best wishes to your mother.’

‘Thank you, sir. Yes I will.’ Ahmed transferred quickly to the police car holding up his jacket collar. He was without a shirt and tie and the night was getting colder. The driver settled Ahmed in the car and came up to Angel busy with something in the car boot.

‘Good evening, sir.’

Angel turned to the uniformed patrolman. He thought he recognized him. ‘PC Donohue. You got a firearm for me, lad?’

‘Sorry, sir. The superintendent wouldn’t let me sign for it. He said you had to sign for it personally, or you could ring the FSU and request an Armed Response Vehicle.’

Angel dropped what he was doing. He flung both arms into the air. His eyes stuck out, his face went scarlet.

‘I know all about that!’ he yelled. ‘I have an emergency situation on my hands! An armed man to deal with. There simply isn’t time for all that crap.’

The patrolman’s jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say.

Angel quickly recovered. He knew it wasn’t Donohue’s fault. He reached out to his arm and gave it a friendly squeeze. ‘I’m sorry, lad. But I have a dangerous situation on my hands. An armed man. The last thing I wanted to do was face him unarmed.’

Donohue’s face tightened. He totally understood the inspector. ‘Can I do anything, sir?’ he said earnestly.

‘No,’ he said slowly, rubbing his hand across his mouth. He pointed to the high-profile white, red and blue police car and said, ‘That jam sandwich would give everything away. No thanks.’

‘I’m sure I could do
something
, sir,’ he said eargerly.

‘No. It’s important to take PC Ahaz home, asap. He’s had a rough time. He needs a bit of TLC and his mother will be worried until she sees him.’

‘If you are sure?’

Angel sighed and nodded. ‘Aye.’

Donohue turned away.

Angel called him back. ‘There is one thing, Constable.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Give DS Gawber loan of your cuffs tonight, lad. I know it’ll make you improperly dressed, but I’ll make it right with Inspector Asquith, if necessary.’

‘No problem, sir. I’m going back to the station, anyway. I can pick up another pair from the stores.’

‘Right. Push off then, lad. I’m working against the clock here.’

‘All right, sir,’ Donohue said. Then he saluted and said, ‘Be careful.’

The patrolman unclipped his handcuffs from his belt and handed them through the open car window to DS Gawber. They exchanged pleasantries, then Donohue made for his car.

‘Good luck, sir, and good night,’ he called to Angel as he opened his car door.

‘Thanks, Constable. Goodnight.’

The car quickly pulled away into the black fog.

Angel soon finished cobbling together a package of wheel-changing tools, police manuals and a leather police holster into Ahmed’s shirt and tied it all up with the tie. He looked at his handiwork, sniffed, closed the boot and brought the bundle into the body of the car.

‘That’s the best I can do,’ he said, handing it to Gawber. He then climbed inside the car and drove off. They soon arrived at the arches.

‘Ron, we’ve got to find a blue chalk mark. The note said it would be at the kerbside at the crossroads at bridge arches, Wath Road. I’ll drive around slowly. Look out for it.’

‘There it is, sir,’ Gawber yelled. It was on the pavement, in front of one of the big arches, a heavily blue chalked asterisk that nobody could miss.

Angel stopped the car. Gawber opened the door and without getting out, simply lowered the shirt and contents onto the centre of the mark. Angel glanced around to see if he could see anything or anybody. Two cars passed in opposite directions but there seemed nothing out of the ordinary.

‘Right, sir,’ Gawber said.

Angel let in the clutch. ‘What’s the time?’

‘5.55 exactly, sir.’

‘Phew!’ As he drove away, small pieces of sandstone unexpectedly splattered down on the car bonnet making quite a clatter. He leaned forward and peered skywards through the windscreen.

‘What’s that? Where’s it come from?’ Gawber said.

‘Must have come from up there,’ Angel said pointing a finger in the air. He drove ahead to get away from the scene, as instructed in the letter, then suddenly, after a minute or so, he stopped the car and blurted out excitedly, ‘I’ve got it. I’ve got it. He’ll be up there on the viaduct, on the railway track, at this very moment, lowering some sort of a line with a hook on it, to lift the spoils. That’s why he specified a white bin bag – so that he could spot it from right up there, at night – and to be tied with string,
not
sticky tape, to make it easier to stab a hook into it.’ He smirked. ‘I hope he’ll manage to lift it by Ahmed’s tie.’

Gawber blinked as he realized that Angel had worked out Jondorf’s plan.

Angel went on excitedly. ‘And he wanted the spoils placing there at 5.55 and not six o’clock, or a quarter past, because he intends to complete his escape by hitching a ride aboard the five-fifty train from Bromersley which will pass through there any time now on its way to Wakefield. We must try and stop him.’

‘A cunning plan sir,’ Gawber said. ‘Worked out in every detail.’

‘He has an evil mind,’ Angel sighed as he looked at his watch. ‘We are too late. The train will have left Bromersley now. And we can’t possibly beat it to Wakefield, nor can we be certain he got on it.’

‘Hmm. There must be something we can do, sir.’

‘There isn’t time, Ron. There isn’t time. And I’ve been thinking. What will Jondorf do when he finds the spoils are not exactly what he expected?’

‘He’ll be one unhappy bunny, sir,’ Gawber replied.

Angel sighed heavily. ‘He’ll want revenge.’

Gawber nodded. ‘Yes. And he’s got a gun.’

The night was now blacker than an undertaker’s cat in a sack of soot, and billowing clouds of fog crowded round Angel’s car headlights. The dashboard thermometer reading showed the outside temperature to be minus 4 degrees, and the car heater was on maximum.

‘I’ve been thinking, Ron,’ Angel said, as he teetered round the corner into the Watersley Estate. ‘If Jondorf completed the journey on the train to Wakefield and had planted a car there in preparation, he could be back here … depending how bad the fog is on the motorway … in about five or ten minutes.’

Gawber nodded slowly.

‘We’ll have to move fast.’

They passed the hazy illuminated windows of the second block of flats and parked the car well out of sight, switched off the lights, locked it and walked back to the lock-up garage where Ahmed had been imprisoned.