Dead Man Walking (42 page)

Gemma still seemed undecided. ‘Look … think about
this
. We put McGurk under arrest now – on suspicion only – and if it’s not him, it reduces our fighting potential by a quarter. And what if the real bad boy then shows up?’

‘I’d much rather the real bad boy was still out there,’ Heck said. ‘Because if it
is
McGurk, he’s right where he wants to be – in our midst. And he’s done that pretty damn cleverly, making everyone think he’s just another victim.’

‘Ma’am,’ Mary-Ellen said, ‘this Stranger guy – the original one down in the West Country. You heard him speak, didn’t you?’

‘It was ten years ago, remember.’

‘Yeah, but I’m sure that voice must be printed on your memory.’

‘If you’re going to ask does the voice sound similar to Mick McGurk’s, the answer is no. Not in any obvious way.’

‘Didn’t you say something about the Stranger not speaking with a full Scottish accent?’

‘That’s true …’

‘Well, McGurk’s from the Borders. He hasn’t got a full Scottish accent either.’

Gemma pondered that. Behind them, the argument in the pub had risen, Fillingham exchanging words with Dulcie O’Grady and Ted Haveloc, neither of whom were prepared to fall in line with his criticism of the police, who, in Dulcie’s opinion, were ‘trying to cope with a horrible and unprecedented problem’, while Burt’s ‘scathing tone was neither helpful nor appropriate’.

Mary-Ellen leaned even closer. ‘Look … there’s three of us. He’s a tough nut for sure, but like I say, he’s out on his feet. Why don’t we rush him?’

‘Only two problems with that,’ Heck said. ‘Firstly, unless he coughs, we’re not going to know for sure we’ve got the right guy. So we’ll then have a prisoner to watch as well as all these innocent bystanders, and we’ll still have to keep an eye open for a dangerous presence outside. Secondly, if it
is
him, he could easily be packing a pistol right now … maybe more than one.’

Mary-Ellen looked sceptical. ‘So, he’s going to pull a brace of pistols and gun us all down if we jump him from behind? He won’t even see us coming.’

‘He doesn’t need to gun us
all
down,’ Gemma said. ‘He gets any shots off in here at all, it’s a potential nightmare.’

‘We’ve got to get the civvies out first,’ Heck said.

‘I love the way you think you know better than the coppers!’ Ted Haveloc hooted from the taproom. ‘You’re only a bloody postman.’

‘I’m a postmaster, actually,’ Fillingham retorted. ‘There’s a big difference.’

‘Oh, excuse me, your worship …’

Rotten with fear and fatigue, the rest of the pub were still arguing. It sounded as if Hazel was trying to offer reason, though McGurk, aside from voicing his disapproval a couple of times, hadn’t contributed much.

‘If we’re not going to jump him, what’s to stop him pulling his guns anyway and taking everyone out?’ Mary-Ellen wondered. ‘He’s ideally placed to do it.’

‘We certainly need to act quickly,’ Heck agreed. ‘If it is McGurk, I don’t know why he’s delaying. It looks like he’s waiting for something, and having closed down all our avenues of escape, he wants us to wait with him … and that can’t be for anything good.’

‘You got something in mind?’ Gemma asked.

‘It’s another long shot,’ Heck said. ‘But if it comes together, it may get all the civvies safely away from here and at the same time, put McGurk right in our hands.’

His new idea had first germinated once they’d realised the quad-bike was out of commission, and had been evolving ever since. It was hardly a risk-free strategy, but it had become increasingly clear to Heck that they had to do something. Gemma and Mary-Ellen listened attentively while Heck outlined it to them. When he’d finished, they regarded him with blank expressions.

‘I told you it would be a long shot,’ he said.

‘There are an awful lot of variables there,’ Gemma said. ‘A lot of stuff we’ll have no control over.’

Even Mary-Ellen looked uncertain. ‘It’s very dangerous, Heck.’

‘More dangerous than hanging around here for another few hours?’

‘It’s almost seven,’ Gemma reminded him. ‘The sun rises just after eight.’

‘Yeah, but realistically, ma’am, how manymore hours after that before DI Mabelthorpe and his various search teams start arriving? The fog isn’t due to shift until midday at the earliest. And all that time we’ve got a well-tooled, highly motivated sociopath right in our lap?’

Behind them, the villagers were still at each other’s throats. Mandy Fillingham was in the midst of a bitter exchange with Dulcie O’Grady.

‘You can damn well talk,’ she said. ‘You think you’re some lady of the manor! Lady bloody Muck, more like …’

‘This lot aren’t going to hold it together much longer anyway,’ Heck murmured.

‘Wait ’til you put this bloody plan to them,’ Mary-Ellen replied.

‘You resentful little cow!’ Dulcie O’Grady snapped. Abruptly, Gemma strode out into the pub. ‘Alright everybody,
put a sock in it!
’

Surprised at her strident tone, the villagers fell quiet.

‘Keep a close eye on McGurk,’ Heck said to Mary-Ellen from the side of his mouth. ‘At all times from this moment on.’

‘DS Heckenburg has come up with an idea which is hellishly dangerous,’ Gemma said, addressing everyone in the pub. ‘Though I think it’s just about workable, given that we’ve no real alternative.’

She stepped aside, and Heck came forward.

‘Let’s face it, folks,’ he said. ‘Whoever this guy is, and for whatever reason he’s doing what he’s doing, he’s obviously not going to stop now. I’m afraid you were right earlier, Mr Fillingham. He’s trapped us in this valley because he intends to liquidate us.’

This time there was no response, not even a whimper.

‘It may feel as if we’re reasonably secure here,’ Heck added. ‘But I’d have thought we’d be secure in the police station. The fact is, our opponent has planned all this in advance and is highly proficient, technically as well as everything else. He was able to create a highly destructive bomb out of little more than household appliances. The same plan won’t work here, because there are no explosive materials stored in the pub cellar. But we’ve made the decision that we can’t just sit around and give him time to hatch another scheme. Are we at least agreed on that?’

‘What do you want us to do, sergeant?’ Dulcie O’Grady asked.

Heck glanced at McGurk, who was watching and listening with interest. His eyes caught a hint of radiance from the murky light outside, glinting like chips of steel.

‘We can’t drive out of the Cradle,’ Heck said. ‘And we certainly can’t walk out of it. So we’re going to sail out.’

The silence that greeted this was the silence of bewilderment.

‘Let me explain,’ he said. ‘In a couple of minutes, if we’re all in agreement, we’re going to walk out of this pub’s back door and go down to the jetty, where, as you know, there are several kayaks available.’

‘My God, you’re not talking about the Cragwood Race?’ Dulcie interrupted.

It was a new experience for any of them to hear the elder of the O’Grady sisters sound shaken, and it kick-started an immediate clamour from the rest.

‘Bloody madness!’ Burt Fillingham intoned, amid the tumult of disbelief. ‘We don’t have helmets, we don’t have life-jackets …’

‘I can’t swim,’ Sally O’Grady wailed.

‘There are some life-jackets down at the jetty,’ Heck replied.

‘We’ll be safer hanging on here, surely?’ Mandy Fillingham cried. ‘Those armed officers might still show up!’

‘Hear me out, please!’ Heck raised his arms. ‘Everyone …
shut up!
’

The room fell silent again.

‘Now listen … I didn’t want to mention this, but seeing as you’ve forced my hand; the reason we have to leave the Keld ASAP is because when we went looking for some vehicles earlier, we found the dead bodies of the police firearms team.’

Brief, stunned whispers filled the pub.

‘Listen to me, people. Seriously … these are the highest stakes any of you has ever played for. Daylight is only one hour away, but our opponent cannot afford to let us reach it. We have got to get out of here
now
, and the Cragwood Race is the only way as far as I can see.’

‘Why not go up the Track?’ Mandy Fillingham said. ‘Try and lose him on the tops.’

‘We’ve already tried that,’ Heck replied. ‘Whoever he is, he’s proved himself a vastly better fell-walker than we are. Look, I admit it won’t be easy … but if we pull this off, we can be back in civilisation within the next hour.’

‘Or in Davey Jones’s locker,’ Burt Fillingham grunted.

‘Perhaps you’d better tell us wha’ you’ve got in mind,’ McGurk said quietly.

As usual, the injured PC’s face was graven in stone. It was anyone’s guess what was going on inside his head. If he was the killer, he’d displayed great improvisational skills during the course of this night. So was he already plotting another change of direction? Heck edged towards him, just in case that change involved pulling a gun and shooting.

‘If memory serves, there are several kayaks down there,’ Heck said.

‘There are two three-man craft, two two-man craft and a single,’ Bella McCarthy replied, and she would know, as she owned most of them. As big noises at the Boat Club, she and her husband had navigated the Race many times.

‘We’re going to take these craft, and paddle along the tarn until we reach the Race,’ Heck said, ‘which is flowing freely thanks to the October rain.’

‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Burt Fillingham muttered.

‘I’m under no illusions,’ Heck added. ‘This will be a dangerous journey. But the speed of our descent will help us, and the fog will cloak us. After that, once you get down to Langdale Beck, it’s easy. The Beck’s a gentle river you can paddle along all the way to Chapel Stile …’

‘I’m sorry, sergeant,’ Dulcie O’Grady said firmly. ‘Sally and I can’t possibly go down the Cragwood Race. We are far too old and set in our ways to be indulging in extreme sports.’

‘I assure you, Miss O’Grady, today this is no sport …’

‘We don’t know the first thing about white-water rafting …’

‘I’ve taken that into consideration.’ Heck turned to the McCarthys. ‘Bella … you and James are both dab hands at this, yeah?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Perhaps you can take Sally and Dulcie in one of the three-man kayaks. James, you could take Burt and Mandy?’

Bella didn’t look hugely comfortable with the idea, but she nodded. ‘I’ve taken passengers before. Not usually in darkness, but as you say, what alternative is there?’

She nudged her husband, who nodded in compliance.

Heck turned to Lucy. ‘Lucy, you’re an outdoors type. You ever done this?’

‘Once,’ she replied. ‘When I first moved here. Bit dicey. Had to be brave.’

‘You’re going to have to be brave again. I want you to take your aunt.’

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip, but nodded. Hazel looked less than impressed, but made no objection, especially when Heck threw a covert wink in her direction.

‘The current will carry us most of the way,’ Bella McCarthy said to the two couples charged to herself and her husband. ‘If you capsize, it’s easy to right yourself again – it’s called the Eskimo roll. But James and I can do that for you. All you do as passengers in that event is tuck yourself forward against the deck, and don’t panic.’

‘There we go,’ Heck said. ‘We don’t panic. Gemma, you’re in the single.’ She nodded. He turned to Ted Haveloc. ‘Ted, you’re with Mary-Ellen in the two-manner.’

‘Always fancied having a go at the Race, I suppose,’ Haveloc replied dourly.

‘Well that takes care of the kayaks,’ McGurk said. ‘But wha’ about me and you?’

‘We get the short straw, I’m afraid,’ Heck replied. ‘We’re in the canoe.’

As well as the kayaks down at the village jetty, there was also a wood and canvas canoe that was just large enough to accommodate two travellers.

‘We’re going down Cragwood Race on a fucking canoe?’ McGurk asked. He almost sounded amused.

‘We can go down on our arses, if you want. But that’d be a tad more painful.’

‘Slalom and wildwater canoeing are popular sports,’ Bella McCarthy said. ‘The Race is no stranger to canoes. In fact …’

‘I know that,’ McGurk interrupted. ‘I’ve done it before. In the Marines. Not for a few years, though.’

‘You can show me what to do.’ Heck turned to face the others. ‘So … are we all in agreement about this?’

There was hardly a belly-roar of enthusiasm. In fact, there was scarcely a sound. The array of canary-pale faces regarded him unblinkingly.

‘I can’t force this course of action on you, folks, but I strongly recommend it.’

Slowly, they began talking among themselves. Heck glanced around. Hazel was at the end of the bar, standing close to Mary-Ellen. He sidled over towards them.

‘Do you want to tell me what the real plan is?’ Hazel asked quietly.

He put a finger to his lips. ‘All you need know is that it’s going to be a doddle.’

She gave him a flat stare. ‘That’s got to be a joke.’

‘Trust me. Oh, by the way …’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I need the keys to the Boat Club. Don’t make it obvious.’

Puzzled, she slid them across the bar. He quickly stowed them in his pocket.

‘There’s something else, Hazel.’ He leaned even closer to her. ‘If, for any reason, this thing goes pear-shaped, and neither me, Gemma nor Mary-Ellen make it …’

‘Mark, for heaven’s sake!’

‘No … listen, this is important! If none of us makes it out of here, Hazel, but the rest of you guys do … you watch Mick McGurk, okay?’

Her mouth dropped open.

‘I can’t tell you any more,’ he added, ‘but I can’t stress it enough. Watch him.’

‘Don’t just watch him, Hazel,’ Mary-Ellen said. ‘Don’t take your eye off him for a second.’

Hazel glanced wordlessly from one to the other, and then looked at McGurk’s broad, hunched back.

‘But that’s only in the event we don’t make it,’ Heck said, sensing a lull in the general conversation. ‘Which isn’t going to happen.’ He moved back into the centre of the room. ‘Are we all decided then?’

‘Should we not go home first and pick up some warmer clothing?’ Sally O’Grady wondered tremulously. ‘Maybe some waterproofs, some stout boots?’