Cop to Corpse (14 page)

Diamond was not impressed, surprised or envious. ‘What’s happening, then?’

‘Not much. Any action in the village?’

‘Plenty of time for that.’

No offer of a seat. Gull didn’t even remove his feet from the branch. Although he was wearing combat trousers and body armour, he didn’t look as if he had any intention of putting himself in the line of fire.

‘I hope you haven’t made the wrong call here,’ he said, taking a swig from the flask.

‘What do you mean?’ Diamond said.

‘About the sniper burying the gun in the woods and coming back to collect it. We’ve committed a lot of resources.’

‘Losing confidence, are you?’ Diamond said. ‘Back in the incident room you were with me a hundred per cent. In fact, you were the first to come up with the theory.’

‘Was I?’

‘That’s my recollection. You talked about the bullets in the tree and the signs that he camped here.’

‘If you say so.’

‘But I don’t mind taking the credit when we reel him in,’ Diamond said.

‘Get stuffed.’

‘Where’s Polehampton?’

Gull shrugged. ‘Somewhere out there, checking the front line.’

‘I’d feel a lot safer if he was here. How did he come to join your outfit?’

‘Influence. His father-in-law is in the Government.’

‘Can’t you find him a desk job?’

Gull shook his head. ‘I want him where I can keep an eye on him.’

‘Like out in the woods?’

No answer.

Diamond asked, ‘So what do you reckon is the sniper’s motive in shooting policemen?’

‘Obviously revenge. Some arsehole with a grudge against us. There’s no shortage of cop-haters.’

‘Someone with form, then? A professional?’

‘You bet. Anyone who can handle a G36 like this guy is no beginner.’

‘And you’re the expert, of course?’

‘Anyone joining the SCU has to go through the assault weapons courses with CO19 at Milton Keynes. The initial firearms course alone is thirty-five days and then there are the rifle courses. If they ever took you on, which isn’t likely, you’d learn that H&K are the tops for reliability. The G36 works with a spring-buffered short-stroke gas piston system that is self-regulating. Mind, they’re expensive. I’d say the sniper’s weapon is worth as much as your car on the black market.’

All of the jargon was putting a glaze over Diamond’s eyes, but he still had an interest in the gun. ‘Worth coming back for, then?’

‘Would you come back for your car?’

‘I wouldn’t bury it in a wood.’

‘I haven’t told you the beauty part,’ Gull said. ‘You can fill your H&K with dirt, chuck it in a lake, drop it off a cliff, drag it through the jungle and it will still operate.’

‘I expect he wrapped it in something.’

‘Naturally. He wouldn’t want the job of cleaning the fucker. But if he did, they’re dead easy to break down and clean. I’ve done it.’

‘On the firearms course?’

‘Well, yes, I don’t own one. They’re illegal. Paramilitary. Even in
the States, they’re banned. At one time H&K tried marketing them as semi-automatic sporting rifles. Legislation put a stop to that.’

‘But illegal arms dealers still supply them?’

‘To the right customer.’

‘The wrong customer.’

‘Depends on your point of view.’

‘How many of these guns are in circulation?’

‘How long is a piece of string? Put it this way: we’re not going to trace the murder weapon by going to the manufacturers and asking.’

‘Could it be police-issue?’

‘Easily. They told me on the course how many go missing. Hair-raising. And even more are knocked off from the armies across the world. A bent NCO in a regimental armoury can make a fortune. They simply fiddle the inventory.’

A rustle from the laurel bush interrupted him.

‘What’s that?’ Diamond said, thinking wildlife, anything from a snake to a deer.

It was static from a walkie-talkie. Jack Gull put out a hand and withdrew his personal radio from where it was hanging from a branch. Over the rustling came a voice: ‘Oscar One to Bravo. Stand by. Something happening here. Sounds up ahead.’ The speaker was a moonraker, Wiltshire through and through.

‘Report your position,’ Gull said.

‘The bushes are moving.’

‘Your fucking position, Oscar One.’

‘590811. He’s coming this way.’

‘Let him come,’ Gull said. ‘Stay where you are and let him come. Calling all armed units, we have a sighting at map reference 590811.’

‘There are badgers in this wood,’ Diamond said as if he were a nature study expert. He thought of the hapless copper out there in the darkness practically pissing himself with tension. A mistake now could compromise everything.

‘Can you see anything?’ Gull said into his radio.

A crackle of static followed by a hiss, but no voice.

‘If he’s as close as all that, he won’t speak,’ Diamond said.

‘Speak up, Oscar One,’ Gull demanded into the radio.

Silence.

‘Disconnected,’ Diamond said.

‘Will anyone out there tell me what’s happening?’

‘Bravo?’ the radio spoke. A different voice.

‘Yeah?’

‘Unit Two. Reference Oscar One, we’re moving in.’

‘Thank Christ for that,’ Gull said. To Diamond, he said, ‘That’s the gun team.’

10

B
eing at HQ, as he called it, evidently gave Jack Gull a sensation of power. It did nothing for Peter Diamond. He felt marginalised. All the action was happening at the far end of the wood and he could do nothing to influence it. While he was holed up behind a holly bush, young police officers with no experience of this kind of skirmish were risking their lives against an armed killer. His main impulse was to get out and give support. If he hadn’t been handicapped by the leg injury he would have been there. He felt wasted here, listening to Gull swearing into the radio, increasingly infuriated.

The speaking was all one-way.

There hadn’t been anything back from the armed police or the bobby known as Oscar One for two or three minutes. In this situation two or three minutes seemed like an hour of normal time.

‘Nobody’s fucking listening to me.’

‘It’s not about you,’ Diamond told Gull. ‘If they switch off, it’s for their own safety.’

‘Just as long as they got the tosser this time.’

‘Just as long as no more of ours are killed.’

‘You think he’s on a spree?’

‘He’ll be armed for sure.’

‘Our lads are trained. They’ll take him.’

But at what cost? Diamond feared for the copper who had radioed the first sighting. He wouldn’t be armed or trained. Neither would the other Wiltshire lads drafted in to keep watch.
The last words heard from Oscar One had been ‘He’s coming this way.’

‘Did you make a note of that grid reference?’

‘Of course I fucking did,’ Gull said. ‘We know who was on the spot and we know the gun team went in. I’m trained for the job.’

‘Where was it in relation to here?’

‘I get you.’ He produced a map from the side pocket of the combat trousers, unfolded it and flicked on a torch. ‘Oscar One was speaking from the northeast edge of the wood, which means the sniper will have come from the Jones Hill side.’ He looked up from the map, and it was not a friendly look. ‘If I remember right, you dismissed Jones Hill and said he’d come through Westwood.’

‘We don’t need to know where he came from,’ Diamond said. ‘All we need is where he is right now.’

Gull hadn’t listened. ‘He wouldn’t flog his way through half a mile of sodding wood to get where he is. He’d come from the North.’

‘It’s history, Jack.’

‘He knows where he hid his rifle and he picked the quickest route.’

‘Or the smartest.’

They slipped into silence, with never a chance of agreeing. Gull was chewing his thumbnail again. Diamond’s thoughts were with Oscar One, the luckless copper who had called in. This operation had been rushed. Ideally only armed officers should have been posted in the wood.

‘Don’t you think you should move more of your marksmen to the scene?’

Gull shook his head. ‘The gun team makes their own tactical decisions. I can speak to them, but they judge when and where to move. Makes sense.’

‘A law unto themselves.’

A shrug. ‘SOP.’

‘And what’s that when it’s at home?’

‘Standard operating procedure. I’m in overall charge, of course.’

This came across as a hollow claim. Right now Gull didn’t look like the man in charge. He’d got up from the canvas seat and was pacing the small area like an expectant father outside the delivery room.

Diamond had to step aside for him to pass. ‘Mind if I sit down?’

‘Be my guest.’

‘It’s turned on, is it?’ Diamond asked when he’d lowered himself into the chair.

‘What?’

‘Your radio. I can’t see a light.’

Gull looked down, swore again, fiddled with the controls and got the static sound back. Immediately a voice asked, ‘Anything happened yet? This is Delta Three. All quiet here.’

‘Then get off the fucking line.’

A faint ‘Charming’ could be heard before Delta Three signed off.

Gull tried once more to raise Oscar One and got nothing.

‘Here’s a suggestion,’ Diamond said. ‘Why don’t you leave me here in charge while you go out and check what’s really going on? I can’t move fast, but you can, and you’ve done the training. Are you armed?’

‘I’ve got my Glock, that’s all.’

‘Handgun?’

‘Yeah.’

‘More than most of those poor beggars have got. They’re armed with batons at best.’

‘They’ll have protective jackets.’ Even Gull appeared to realise this was a callous remark. ‘They know better than to get involved. We laid it on the line.’

‘No use laying it anywhere if an armed sniper gets a sight of you.’

A long pause.

‘So you think I could be more useful out there,’ Gull said. He replaced the stopper on his hip flask and pocketed it.

‘Sure of it. Have we got a spare radio? I can take any calls that come in, but I reckon the guys close to the action have switched off. You’re wasted here.’

‘Okay, I’ll go.’ Whatever Jack Gull’s limitations, he wasn’t a coward. He’d wanted to oversee the mission from the hub, and this hideout had ceased being that. He handed the radio to Diamond saying he’d pick up a spare from one of his team. ‘Keep me fully informed, Peter. Refer all decisions to me.’

‘Goes without saying,’ Diamond said.

He watched Gull put on night-vision goggles and a ballistic helmet and then he was gone.

The next phase would be a trial for Diamond. He hated being so passive. Better make sure the radio was working. Really it was a form of mobile phone. The police had been using them ever since
he’d joined the Met. They’d called them ‘bat phones’ in those days, which dated him. Still, he could say he’d used a mobile a good twenty years before they became trendy.

The distinguishing feature of the police radio was the static, a grating, unmusical sound that usually meant someone was about to get in touch and alerted everyone around as well. The armed police used earpieces for covert operations like this.

He had the thing in his hand and was turning up the volume when it spluttered into life. ‘Bravo, can you hear this?’

For a microsecond he had to think who Bravo was, and then: ‘Right. Bravo here. Who is this?’

‘Oscar One.’ Said in the reassuring West Country burr.

‘Christ, lad, are you okay?’

‘No problem.’

‘Thank God for that. What happened?’

‘I saw him, sir, a guy moving through the wood who has to be the suspect. He was heading my way, darting from tree to tree. He got as close as ten yards and then beetled off to the right of me. He’s away now, I think.’

‘Which direction?’

‘West to southwest, I reckon.’

‘Deeper into the wood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Description?’

‘There wasn’t much light to see by.’

‘Try.’

‘I only caught the outline of him. He’s wearing dark clothes. Some kind of baseball hat, I reckon. He’s not all that tall. Moves well, like he’s fit.’

‘Armed?’

‘If he is, he isn’t carrying a rifle.’

‘Moves well, you said?’

‘Bent over, like he didn’t want to be seen.’

‘Did he spot you?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m well hidden here. In fact, I got a real shock when someone put his hand on my shoulder from behind and he was one of ours. Freaked me out.’

‘An armed officer?’

‘That’s right, sir. There were others, I think. I told him what I’ve just told you and they headed off after the suspect.’

‘You did well, Oscar One.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘You may be in for another shock. The CIO is on his way to you now. You’re still in the position you gave us before?’

‘The same, sir.’

‘And are you alone now?’

‘Some others are hidden nearby.’

‘That’s good. Stay out of sight in case he’s back. Over and out.’

The description of the suspect was not much help. What could you expect at night in a heavily wooded area? One good thing was that the sniper wasn’t carrying his rifle. No doubt he was on his way to collect it. Diamond’s guess was that it was buried somewhere close to where the motorcycle had surfaced.

That would be this end of the wood. Not far off from here.

Wanting to check the map for himself, he looked around and realised he couldn’t. Gull had gone off with the only copy. How dumb was that? If someone radioed in with another sighting, there was no way of checking the position.

Presumably maps had been issued to everyone. He needed one – and fast.

He got up from the chair, leaned on the crutch and hauled himself outside. The moon had gone behind a cloud again. Amazing what a difference it made. He could have kitted a funeral out of the darkness.

‘Anyone about?’

Silence.

‘I need some help here.’

He’d spoken softly, assuming that the men who had shown him the way weren’t far off. He didn’t want to yell.

The only other option would be to radio for a map. Not the best way to encourage confidence in the ranks.

He was on the point of returning inside the hideout when a voice from his left said, ‘Sir.’