Death's Jest-Book (69 page)

She saw her husband and came to
him in a rush. They embraced like lovers on a sinking ship, each
other's last hope in a disintegrating world.

Dalziel said, 'Situation?'

He spoke to Wield, not to Rose.

The sergeant said, 'There's four
of them. They're on the top floor, back of the building, lingerie
department.'

'Lingerie!'

'No significance. Just happens to
be the section you arrive at if you keep heading up towards the roof,
which was what they were after, I reckon. It's a flat roof with
several fire escapes. By the time they showed there, we'd got the
escapes covered, though. DI Rose's quick thinking saw to that.'

For the first time Dalziel looked
at the South Yorkshire DI.

'Stan, isn't it?' he said. 'Stan
the Serpent. How do you see things, Hissing Stan?'

Poor sod, thought Wield. He's
tracked dirt on to Andy Dalziel's carpet and he's going to have his
nose rubbed in it.

Rose said, 'We've got an Armed
Response Unit in position, all exits covered, Inspector Curtis in
charge, he's out there doing a recce at the moment.'

Pascoe and Ellie had broken apart
now.

Pascoe said, 'What about contact?
Have they made any demands?'

He was still looking like shit,
thought Dalziel, but not such bad shit. Nothing like being at the
front to stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.

'Not yet. There's a phone up
there. We keep on ringing but no one's picked it up yet.'

'Can we see anything on the
closed circuit?' asked Pascoe, staring desperately at the wall of
screens.

'Sorry. Those two there, B3 and
4, cover that area of the top floor.'

'Shot them out, did they?'

'Don't think so’ said a man
in a black suit. 'I'm Kilroy, Head of Security for Estotiland. I
think they've got someone who knows his electronics. I think they
simply disconnected them.'

Ellie said to Pascoe, 'But they
saw them arrive before the monitors went. Rosie was with them, she
looked OK, isn't that right?'

She was asking for a repeat
reassurance for herself as much as for her husband.

One of the security men
monitoring the screens turned round and nodded reassuringly.

'Yeah, she was walking with one
of them, he was holding her hand, but she didn't look distressed or
owt. In fact she seemed to be talking away ten to the dozen.'

'That's my girl,' said Dalziel.
'She'll be grand.'

Ignoring him, Pascoe said, 'Any
other hostages? The place must have been packed with people.'

'We sounded the fire alarm,' said
Wield. 'Got everyone out double quick. We'd no idea where they were
headed and it seemed best just to clear the whole complex.'

'Drills worked
a treat,' said Kilroy. 'Everyone safely out in eight and a
half
minutes.'

'Nice to know your fire drills
work so well,' grated Dalziel. 'Likely you'll get a bonus.'

'Sir, one of Mr Kilroy's men's in
hospital, critical,' said Wield warningly.

'Is that right? I'm sorry for it,
Mr Kilroy.'

The radio Wield was holding
crackled into life.

'Control to Serpent 5.'

Dalziel seized it and said, 'Fuck
serpents. Dalziel here. What?'

'We've got all four now, sir. You
know we picked up the first two when they dumped the security van

'Don't waste my time telling me
things I bloody well know!' roared Dalziel.

'Sorry, sir. The pair in the
transit spotted the arrest and took off. Pursued them for fifty
miles, then crashed on the Al, no serious injuries.'

'More's the pity. That it?'

'Just hearing from Sergeant
Bowman and the team that went round to interview Mr Belchamber. Bit
odd.'

'I like odd’ said Dalziel.
'Patch me through. Bowman, Dalziel here. What's the situation?'

'We're outside Belchamber's
house. His car's here, open. There's a bag in it with a bunch of
money and a plane ticket for Malaga. OK to break the front door down,
sir?'

'With a bulldozer if you like,'
growled Dalziel.

He looked at the others. He could
see on the Pascoes' faces the thought that this was an unnecessary
diversion. He wasn't about to tell them it was necessary for him, to
give himself time to work out what the hell to do next.

'Sir, Bowman here. We're inside.
We've found Mr Belchamber. He's wearing fancy dress. Some sort of
Roman soldier's outfit, I think. And he's got a sword stuck in his
belly. Ambulance on the way.'

'Not dead then?' said Dalziel.

'Not yet, but it don't look like
it's going to be long, sir.'

'Oh, tell him to take as long as
he likes,' said Dalziel. 'Keep me posted.'

He tossed the radio back to Wield
and said, 'All right, Mr Kilroy, you're the on-the-spot -expert. How
do you see the situation here?'

'From the point of view of
containment, we've got them bottled up,' said the security man. 'No
way out. But no easy way in either to take them by surprise.
Defensively, they've picked the best spot in the complex.'

'He's right,' said a new voice.

The door had opened and a man in
ARU gear had come in.

'You Curtis?' said Dalziel.

'Yes, sir.'

'So what's the problem? There's
only four of them, right?'

The newcomer, a crop-haired man
who looked like he worked out between work-outs, glanced frowningly
at Ellie.

'It's all right’ said
Dalziel. 'You can talk in front of Mrs Pascoe. She's one of us.'

Meaning,
thought Wield, if I could think of any way of getting her out
of here, I would, but I can't, so let's set on with it!

"Four's enough, depending on
how many of them are armed’ said Curtis.

'Only saw one weapon’ said
Wield.

'You want to bet money they don't
have more?'

Wield shook his head.

'Me neither. The point is, where
they are there's no windows. There's an office with one door on to
the retail floor. Behind the office there's a series of stock rooms
with a service lift. They've immobilized the lift, so our only
approach is full frontal on the office door across the display area,
which we reckon they've got full CCTV coverage of.'

'All retail sections have their
own monitors for on-the-spot surveillance for shoplifters and so on’
explained Kilroy. 'All they had to do was disconnect our link.'

'We could cut off power, but the
one thing we've heard from them was someone yelling out, "Anyone
touches the electrics and we come out shooting with the little girl
leading the way."'

He glanced apologetically at
Ellie.

'So they can see us but we can't
see them? Bloody marvellous’ said Dalziel. 'So what are your
recommendations, Inspector?'

'Limited options, I'm afraid.
Either the long game or direct assault full frontal

'You mean stun grenades and CS
gas?' said Ellie. 'Andy, for God's sake, tell them!'

'It's OK. We'll do nowt that will
risk harming Rosie’ assured the Fat Man. 'What about listening
devices? Photo optics? We need to know what's going on in there’

'We're working on it’ said
Curtis. 'Like I say, it's hard getting any kind of access’

'He seems to be managing’
said one of the security men before the monitors.

Everyone looked. On one of the
screens a figure was striding boldly through a display of men's
outdoor clothing towards a line of lifts. A man in plainclothes
intercepted him and spoke. He took something out of his pocket,
showed it, said a few words, then entered one of the lifts and the
doors closed behind him.

'Christ almighty, it's Roote!'
exclaimed Dalziel. 'Who's that plonker he spoke to?'

'He's one of mine’ said
Rose, pulling out his mobile.

He did a quick dial. The man on
the screen took out his phone and put it to his ear.

'Joe’ said Rose, 'that guy
you just let get into the lift . . ‘

He listened then said, 'He says
it was DCI Pascoe. He showed him his warrant.'

Pascoe slapped his hand to his
pocket.

'Shit!' he said. 'The bastard had
hold of my jacket.'

'Where's he going?' said Dalziel.

There he is, top floor. Looks
like he's heading for the lingerie department’ said Kilroy.

'We'll soon stop him’ said
Curtis, raising his radio.

'No!' cried Ellie.

Curtis looked at her, looked at
Dalziel.

'Andy’ said Ellie, 'he's
doing something. Nobody else is.'

The Fat Man said, 'Pete?'

Pascoe rubbed his hand across his
face. Pale before, now all colour seemed erased by the movement.

He said, hopelessly, 'Let him go.
Why not? Perhaps ... Let him go.'

'Inspector, tell your men not to
get in his way’ ordered Dalziel.

'Your decision, sir’ said
Curtis, in a tone which said just as clearly, And your career.

He spoke into his radio. They
watched as Roote walked off the edge of the monitor.

'He's into the area covered by
the dead cameras’ said Kilroy.

Curtis, his radio clamped to his
ear, said, 'Sir, my men have him in sight. He's standing looking
towards the door of the stock area like he wants to be seen. Now he's
walking across the display area. He's at the door. It's opening. He's
gone inside.'

'So what do we do now?' said Stan
Rose.

They all looked at Dalziel.

He scratched his left buttock
like the Count of Monte Cristo beginning to work on the walls of his
cell.

'We wait’ he said. 'Pete,
lad, you always said yon Roote could talk a rabbi into sharing a
packet of pork scratchings. Let's hope that for once you're right
about the sod!'

Franny
Roote! It really is you. Here, what do you think?'

Mate Polchard was sitting behind
a desk on which he had placed a travelling chessboard with magnetic
pieces.

On the floor, seated against an
open packing case, was Rosie Pascoe, eating a chocolate bar. On her
head rested a cirque of gold in the form of two snakes. She glanced
at the newcomer, decided he didn't look much fun, and returned her
full attention to the chocolate. Nearby a short squat blockhouse of a
man in blue overalls was watching.a couple of security screens on
which the lingerie retail floor could be seen in its entirety. Of the
other two gang members, there was no sign.

Roote advanced and looked at the
disposition of pieces on the chessboard. It was an early middlegame
situation, the pieces developed, no losses yet on either side, but
Black had a bit of a problem in the centre.

'Samisch - Capablanca 1929,' he
said. 'Black's knackered.'

'Bit early to be saying that,
isn't it?' said Polchard, frowning.

'That's what Capablanca thought.
Played on for another fifty moves. He still lost’ said Roote.
'He'd have done better to give in gracefully and go off for a bit of
shut-eye.'

'That's how it looks to you, is
it?'

'That's how it is, Mate,' said
Roote. 'Like you once said to me, the thing about chess is it teaches
you to see things that have happened before they've happened.'

'I said that? Must be true.
How've you been, Fran? Never came to see me in Wales.'

'You know how it is,' said Roote.
'Out on licence, they see you associating with the king of crime,
they don't listen when you say we're just playing chess. Then, later
on, I got a new life going. I'm an academic now. A teacher, sort of.'

'I know what a fucking academic
is,' said Polchard.

'Do you? Wish I did,' said Roote
placatingly.

'Much money in it?'

'If you know where to look.'

‘That's the secret, isn't
it? Knowing where to look. That kid there, she's got more money on
her bonce than you'll ever see, I'd guess.'

'I get along,' said Roote with a
serene smile. 'You know who she is, do you?'

'She keeps telling us her dad's
some VIP and he's going to come along and whip our arses. She can
certainly talk, I'll give her that. Couldn't think how to shut her up
till I found that whoever uses this desk is a chocoholic. Fancy a
Mars Bar?'

'No thanks. She's DCI Pascoe's
daughter.'

'Is that right?' said Polchard
indifferently. 'Bad choice then. Could have been worse, though. Could
have been that fat bastard's lass.'

'Still not good, Mate. The
security guard that got shot's still alive, by the way.'

'Glad to hear it. Nothing to do
with me though. You can't get the help these days.'

'No? This the same mad bastard
who topped the kid in the canal?'

'You know a lot,' said Polchard,
looking at Roote speculatively. 'That was definitely nothing to do
with me. What are you doing here anyway?'

'Helping out a friend. Two
friends, if I include you, Mate. Think about it. Good lawyer, few
years improving your chess, no sweat.'

'Good lawyer.' Polchard smiled
wanly. 'Used to have one of those. Reckon I might be needing another
now. What you got in mind for the endgame, Franny?'

'I walk out of here with the
girl, tell them you're coming out too. Couple of minutes later, you
show; the hard men with guns do a lot of shouting but no shooting,
and before you know it, you're nice and comfy where you don't have to
worry about the taxman.'

Polchard bent his head over the
board for a long moment. Then with his forefinger he flicked the
black king off its magnetic base.

'Off you go then,' he said.

'Right,' said Franny. 'How about
the guns? You want I should take them too?'

Polchard laughed.

'There's only the one, and I knew
nothing about it till it went off. No, Franny, leave the gun to me. I
really don't think you want to hang around and try to persuade your
old chum to hand it over to you, do you?'

'My old chum?' said Franny,
puzzled.

For the first time Polchard
looked surprised.