Depth of Despair (18 page)

‘We should be thinking about how to react,’ Pratt looked round.

‘We should, but we’ve no specialist trained in hostage
negotiation
.’

‘That’s the trouble. We don’t carry the manpower. Do you want me to handle it?’

‘Wardle will probably insist on talking to me. How else is he going to get his threat across effectively?’ Nash’s impatience was beginning to show.

He reached into his jacket pocket and discreetly tried to take a tablet. Tom looked at him questioningly. ‘Headache,’ he said as he put the bottle away.

He tried to analyze what little they knew. Wardle was ruthless, without scruples. Interested only in money and preserving his skin. What would the demand be? Safe conduct for himself and Hill, but to where? Not a commercial airport. Wardle would steer clear of anywhere with an official presence. Ferry ports would also be out of the question, so where?

They’d need to be out of the country as fast as they could. The rest of the equation made him sick with apprehension. Wardle must have a venue lined up, with a plane and a pilot waiting. A light aircraft that could get them to the continent, but how was he hoping to escape the attentions of RAF radar or air traffic control?

Surely he’d have worked out that the police would alert forces wherever they tried to land. And what of the hostages, Stella and any others Wardle was planning to take?

Nash was gripped by a cold certainty. Wherever they’d chosen to escape to, those hostages would be dead long before Wardle reached his destination.

‘We’ve spotted where they’re holed up,’ the Bomb Squad leader had returned with Clara. ‘First floor, corner room.’

‘I think I saw Hill,’ Clara added. ‘I couldn’t be certain, the light
wasn’t very strong and the only photo I’ve seen is years out of date. But it looked like him. He was standing at the window, watching.’

‘There were others in the room too,’ the officer added. ‘We saw at least two more moving about, although not clearly enough to recognize them.’

‘Any way of getting into the building without them knowing?’

‘There’s no way without making a noise. Have you heard from them yet?’

‘Not a word.’

‘That’s a classic move, designed to get you fidgety.’

‘It’s working,’ Nash said with feeling.

‘You mustn’t let it. You need a game plan. I said there’s no way of getting in without making a noise, but we might fool them, so they won’t know where we’re coming from. In the confusion, we could get lucky.’

‘Go on, I’m listening.’

Wardle spoke on his mobile, ‘Is everything ready? Good. We’ll be there in a couple of hours. I’ll phone you when we’re en route.’

‘Anything happening out there, Martin?’

‘Nothing much, couple of vans dropping off more coppers, that’s all. They’re all standing around as if they’re waiting for a bus, just as you predicted.’

‘That means Nash knows what’s going on. He’s guessed we’re holding Miss Pearson,’ he looked across at Stella. ‘No fool, that boyfriend of yours. Pity he chose the police; he’d have made a good officer. Too late now, for him and for you. But as the saying goes, “where there’s life, there’s hope”, but unfortunately for both of you, not much of either.’

‘When are you going to phone?’ Martin asked.

Wardle glanced at his watch. ‘Let them stew. They’ll be all the keener to do as we ask.’

‘Won’t that give them time to bring in reinforcements?’

‘You’ve got them wrong. They’re country coppers. They don’t think like trained servicemen. They won’t try anything rash. Especially if we’re holding Miss Pearson and one of their senior officers. They’ll be anxious to baby sit us. They’ll stay clear of any action that might pose a threat to hostages.’

‘Just as well they don’t know what you have in mind.’

‘That’s a different story,’ Wardle smiled mirthlessly.

Stella looked at Butler. He hadn’t spoken since he’d pushed her into the office. He was cowering in a chair near the door. He’d moved only once, to collect a cup of water from the dispenser. Now he sat with his eyes downcast. Few people would recognize the eminent surgeon. Stella was shocked by the man’s rapid decline. In a short time, he’d gone from an immaculately groomed
professional
to a wreck. His fingers shook and twitched uncontrollably, at odds with his reputation as a precise and skilled surgeon. Butler was unravelling before her eyes. Why, she wondered? She was scared enough, terrified but in control. What was the extra element of fear that had reduced Butler to such a state?

‘It’ll only work if everyone does as they’re ordered and the timing’s precise. The kingpin is you. Do you understand?’ The army officer had finished outlining his ideas.

‘What do you think, Tom?’

Pratt scratched his chin, ‘I don’t know, Mike. It’s a hell of a risk.’

‘I know, but I don’t think we’ve any alternative.’

‘It depends on what Wardle and Hill have in mind.’

‘I reckon we’ve got to run with it.’

‘It’s all down to “is the risk justified”. I can’t answer that for you, Mike. It’s you who’ll be in danger; you and Stella.’

‘Right,’ Nash made his mind up. ‘Get everyone together and explain the plan. All we can do then is wait for the call.’

The Bomb Squad officer put his hand on Nash’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. ‘The one thing that will guarantee failure is lack of confidence. You need courage to succeed.’

It was a further twenty minutes before the call came, patched through from the control room to Pratt’s mobile. He held the phone out. ‘It’s Wardle.’

Nash looked round at the officers and soldiers all waiting
expectantly
. He nodded and they began to disperse.

‘Mike Nash,’ he said into the phone.

‘You know who this is?’

‘Yes, Wardle, I know.’

‘I’m sure you must have worked out that I’m holding the
delectable
Miss Pearson and the somewhat less delectable Mr Butler hostage?’

‘I worked that out a long time ago, Wardle, but please don’t talk to me as if I’m an idiot. Miss Pearson may be a hostage but Butler certainly isn’t. I realize you spend a lot of time with cattle but would you cut the bullshit and get to the point.’

Nash’s refusal to be cowed obviously irritated Wardle. ‘So you know about Butler. That’s bad news for him. What else do you know? Not that it matters. We want a safe passage and you’re going to provide it.’

‘I’m still waiting.’

‘Waiting for what?’ He could hear Wardle’s voice sharpen with annoyance, exactly what Nash wanted.

‘Waiting for you to tell me something I don’t already know. So why not cut to the next bit? Tell me which door you want me to come in by?’

‘You’ve a high opinion of your own intelligence, haven’t you?’ Wardle snapped. ‘You don’t come in via a door at all. You walk to the window directly to the right of the front entrance. You do that in five minutes. You do it alone and unarmed. You knock on the window, climb inside and stay there. When we’re sure you’re alone, we will unlock the inner door. You’ll be met and escorted upstairs. There you can enjoy an emotional reunion with Miss Pearson. And there you’ll start making arrangements for our safe departure. Got all that?’

‘Yes,’ the line disconnected abruptly. Nash handed the phone to Pratt. ‘Five minutes, the window to the right of the front entrance.’

‘Good luck, Mike, and for God’s sake be careful.’

When the allotted time had crawled past he began walking towards the clinic. ‘I’m starting towards the building,’ he stated loudly and to no one in particular.

He looked from the corner of his eye towards the first-floor room. He could see the outline of a figure watching his progress. ‘At least one of them is still in that room,’ Nash observed to the night air.

‘He’s on his way,’ Martin turned away from the window. ‘He’s climbing inside now.’

‘Good,’ Wardle said. ‘Miss Pearson and I will meet him at the top of the stairs. We’ll be handy for the lift there. Take that with you,’ Wardle gestured towards Butler. ‘Switch the main power on and join us by the lifts.’

Nash knocked, the window yielded to his touch. ‘I’m climbing in,’ he remarked. ‘I’ve to wait inside.’ He’d been given no instructions about the window so he left it open. He could hear muffled screams from somewhere inside. ‘Can you hear that?’

The door was being unlocked. ‘I’m going into the corridor.’ He stepped out into the passage. The shouts and yells were louder. Those listening heard a fresh voice on Nash’s radio. ‘Turn left and keep walking.’

Nash glanced at the speaker, one of the security men armed with a small but lethal-looking pistol. ‘Nice of you to walk with me,’ he observed in a loud, clear voice. ‘I hope that gun isn’t loaded.’

‘Don’t try to find out,’ the guard replied curtly.

A confused mass of panicking patients and nursing staff was being herded into the main body of the corridor by more guards, all armed. ‘When you get to reception, turn right and head for the stairs.’

Nash could see other patients sitting in chairs or being forced to sit on the floor. The nurses with them were trying to maintain calm despite their own terror. Nash had to walk round them to reach the stairs. He heard one elderly patient defy the nearest guard. ‘If I’d been younger—’

The guard leered at him, ‘Shut it, granddad. You ain’t young enough and if you don’t sit still you won’t be getting any older.’ He pushed the old man none too gently in the shoulder with the butt of his gun.

‘What do you intend to do with these people?’ Nash asked louder still over the hubbub of voices and crying.

‘They’ll be quite safe as long as you behave. Now get yourself upstairs.’

‘You not coming with me?’

‘You’re going up. But I’ll be watching from the stairwell.’

‘Okay, I’m going.’ Nash began climbing the steps.

‘There are a dozen armed men with the patients and staff,’ he said quietly.

Nash reached the halfway landing. As he turned to continue his ascent he looked up and stopped.

‘Stella. You alright?’ She nodded. He looked to the figure by her side. ‘And I assume you’re Wardle. Where’s your second in command? The man who cheats death by fire. Where’s Martin Hill? What’s he doing RIGHT NOW?’

The sound of a loud explosion caused Wardle’s answer to die in his throat. He turned towards the source of the blast, close to the office he’d just left. He raised his gun as he saw officers coming through the hole where the fire door had been. A second explosion came from the opposite end of the building followed by a third and a fourth from elsewhere.

Wardle swung back towards Nash, finger on the trigger. Suddenly he was pushed violently from behind. He overbalanced and fell down the steps to land at Nash’s feet. Nash ducked
sideways
as the guard in the stairwell fired a shot that whistled past his head.

He looked up to see Stella topple from her wheelchair. The momentum needed to administer the push had thrown the chair over the top step. Stella came crashing down on top of Wardle, hitting her head against the far wall. The wheelchair followed and before Nash could check it, landed on Stella’s back.

The guard fired another round; Nash seized the wheelchair and hurled it at the advancing man. Guard and wheelchair crashed down the stairs.

Martin Hill had just pulled the mains power switches when the first charge was detonated. Half dragging Butler behind him, he made to move forward. He felt an unpleasant cold sensation on the back of his neck. Clara took hold of Hill’s free hand in an almost affectionate gesture and snapped one link of her handcuffs over his wrist. She disarmed him and secured the second link. She nodded to the army officer and turned to run down the corridor.

Pearce and an ARU officer completed the capture of Butler and Hill. The bomb squad leader hurried after Clara.

Approaching Wardle, she saw him point his gun down the
staircase
. Saw him stagger then disappear. To her horror she saw Stella’s wheelchair topple from sight.

Wardle was unconscious. Nash removed the man’s gun and
checked to see he was carrying no other weapons. He didn’t bother with handcuffs. Wardle wasn’t going anywhere. The end of the thigh bone sticking through his bloodstained trousers would ensure that.

Stella was barely conscious. ‘Mike,’ she whispered, ‘Mike?’ Her speech sounded slurred.

‘I’m okay. What about you?’

‘I don’t … know.’ She attempted to move. Her eyes widened with fear. ‘I can’t … move. I can’t … move my arms, I can’t feel them. I can’t feel … anything.’ 

Nash’s attention was solely on Stella. He placed his hand beneath her head to try to make her comfortable, it was then he saw the blood. Her eyes appeared unfocused. ‘Stella, come on. Stay with me, I’ll help you.’ Nash’s voice quivered as he looked at the girl he loved, trying desperately to avoid panic. He wiped the blood from his hand on to his trousers so she wouldn’t see. He massaged her arms and shoulders. Each time he touched her he asked if she could feel his hand. Each time she muttered, ‘No.’ When she
realized
he was touching her breast she began to cry, silent tears that formed in her eyes, then trickled across her cheeks. When she couldn’t raise her hand to brush them away the tears flowed even faster. Tears were all she could manage before she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Nash heard shots from the ground floor followed by shouting. He heard but paid little heed. He saw the Bomb Squad leader leap down the stairs but the urgency left Nash unmoved.

Beneath Stella, Wardle had regained consciousness and was whimpering. Nash looked round. No one was in sight. He leaned over the injured man. He placed his hand on Wardle’s thigh and allowed his full weight to bear on the injured limb.

Wardle opened his mouth to scream but pain overtook him, his eyes glazed over and he passed out.

Pratt hurried up the stairs with a team of paramedics, a doctor and a couple of nurses. The army officer had passed the word. The doctor’s examination of Stella was brief. Having attended to her head injury he instructed the ambulance men. ‘Netherdale General and drive slowly!’ He instructed a nurse, ‘Go with her, make
certain she isn’t bumped or jolted. Tell A & E that I recommend she’s transferred immediately to Pinderfields.’

He turned to Nash. ‘We’re not equipped to deal with injuries of that nature. She needs to be where they’ve specialist staff and equipment. Pinderfields is the best.’

He winced when he saw the gory mess of Wardle’s leg. ‘I’d better treat this man next. I’ll do it as soon as they’ve got Miss Pearson away.’

‘No,’ Nash told him. ‘See to your other patients.’

‘But this man has a badly broken leg. He’ll be in severe pain.’

‘Good,’ Nash told the astonished medic. ‘Leave the bastard to rot for all I care.’

He watched anxiously as the paramedics slid Stella gently on to a stretcher with a spinal board. ‘I should go with her.’

Clara touched him gently on the arm. ‘She’ll be okay, Mike.’

He gave Clara a look of such desolation she shivered. ‘Clara’s right, Mike,’ Pratt added. ‘There isn’t any point. You can’t do anything. Let the medics get on with their job. You’re needed here.’

Nash looked around as if seeing the place for the first time. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he muttered.

Pratt called to the doctor. ‘Excuse me. I don’t know who’s in charge but I need all these patients evacuating.’

‘You’ll need to speak to Mr Butler, I’m afraid. I don’t have the authority.’

‘That’s not possible. You’ll have to deal with it. We don’t know if there are any other devices in the building. Apart from that, this is a major crime scene.’ At that moment Pearce marched Butler and Hill to the head of the stairs.

‘Okay to bring the prisoners down?’ The doctor gaped, open mouthed before scurrying off to make the arrangements.

‘Put them with the others and let’s get them moved. I want them transferred to the cells along with those so called security men.’ Pratt pointed to Wardle, ‘This one can go across to Netherdale General under guard. We’ll get the Bomb Squad to do a sweep of the building whilst they evacuate. That could take a while,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Those that didn’t have heart attacks probably shit themselves when the charges went off.’

‘What happened downstairs?’

Pratt smiled. ‘Wardle and Hill were either careless or
overconfident
. They didn’t secure that window you came through. By the time those charges went off I’d six armed officers in that room. When the rest came in through the emergency doors the guards realized the game was up and surrendered.’

‘Thank God. If they’d resisted it could have been carnage.’ Nash looked at Clara, ‘What about upstairs?’ He asked, forcing himself to concentrate on mundane details.

‘It worked just as the Major promised. We went up one fire escape, Viv and a second team went up the other. The blasts blew the doors off and we walked in, right on cue to grab Hill and Butler. The ARU are up there now checking for strays. We’ve men posted at every exit.’

Pratt said, ‘We’ll start as soon as they’re clear. I want every member of staff interviewed. Nip and tell our lads to get names and details from everyone in reception before they start moving. I don’t want anyone slipping through the net. We’ll search the offices when the dust settles.’

Nash felt weary. The adrenalin that had carried him through the siege and rescue had ebbed away. That and worry over Stella’s condition left him drained. When Clara returned, Pratt said, ‘Go find the kitchen. Take Mike and make him a mug of coffee. I’ll look after things here.’

Clara led Nash to the ground floor where staff had succeeded in calming down the patients. Along the corridor Wardle’s men were sitting huddled in uncomfortable misery against the wall, their hands cuffed. Three armed police officers were standing guard.

The Bomb Squad leader was entering the front door.

‘I’d like a word with you,’ Nash said quietly.

‘I thought you might.’

‘You’re a little bit more than a bomb disposal officer.’

‘I do have other strings to my bow.’

Nash looked enquiringly.

‘When you started asking questions about Wardle and Hill you rang alarm bells. My CO was contacted,’ the officer grimaced, ‘you know how it works. Anyway the Old Man had orders to do what he could if we were asked, or to volunteer if we weren’t. You didn’t ask the right questions, Superintendent Nash. If you had, you’d
have known that Wardle and Hill were both Sappers, known how dangerous they were. That’s what really terrified your contact. He knew if they were cornered they wouldn’t hesitate to use
explosives
. When we got the call from your chief my CO had already asked me to come along.

‘When I told him what happened at the farm he gave me the go ahead to become a bit more proactive.’

‘So you approached DCI Fleming about following us?’

‘Let’s say I suggested it.’

‘I suppose it’s no use asking your name and regiment?’

‘You could,’ the officer grinned. ‘But how would you know I was telling the truth?’

‘Or where you got your specialist training in things like charges to open doors and stun grenades? Hereford, perhaps? You said before I went in, “you need courage to succeed”. What you really meant was “Who Dares Wins”.’

‘Not a bad little town, Hereford. And that’s not a bad motto for a soldier; or a policeman come to think of it.’ He turned to Clara and took her hand. ‘Nice meeting you, Detective Sergeant Mironova, or could I call you Clara? Maybe our paths will cross again.’

‘Er … Clara’s fine and yes, I er … hope to see you again sometime.’ She smiled, praying that the colour wasn’t rising in her cheeks.

He shook hands with Nash. ‘I hope things turn out alright for Miss Pearson. Don’t blame yourself. Remember, Wardle and Hill would have snuffed her out as you’d swat a fly.’

In the kitchen Nash felt slightly more optimistic. The knowledge of his friend at the MOD’s concern and the lengths he’d gone to on his behalf helped lift his spirits.

Clara was waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘I wonder how Jackie’s getting on at the farm?’ she said, trying to give Nash something to think about.

Mention of Fleming stirred something in Nash’s memory. He thought about it, but whatever it was remained elusive. ‘Call her when you’ve made coffee. Tell her what’s happened and find out how things are there.’

Clara passed him his coffee and received the satellite radio in return. ‘These sets are really good,’ she enthused. ‘Even when you were whispering we could hear you as clear as a bell.’

After a moment’s delay Jackie answered. ‘Clara, how’s it gone? Have you got them? Is everybody safe?’

‘Very well, thanks to the army,’ Clara responded. ‘One or two problems but at least we’ve got them.’ She explained how events at the clinic had unfolded. Skipping too much detail about Stella’s injuries. ‘What’s going on there?’

‘We’re still searching.’

‘Found anything?’

‘Not yet, I’ve been looking through Wardle’s files. All that might be significant are some papers referring to imported cattle. I wondered if that might give some clue as to how the children were smuggled in. I reckon the really sensitive information might be stored on Wardle’s computer. Why else would they make such a determined effort to destroy it? I daren’t touch that in case Wardle’s rigged some sort of virus to wipe the hard drive clean.’

‘Sensible. Leave that for the experts. What’s Zena up to?’

‘She’s looking through some videos. I think she was planning to watch bits, see if they were relevant. Do you want to speak to her? No, hang on a moment. Zena’s found something she wants me to see. I’ll call you back.’

It was twenty minutes later when Fleming got back to them. She sounded upset. ‘Is Mike there? I need to speak to him.’

Clara passed the set across. ‘It’s Jackie, sounds as if she’s been crying.’

‘What’s matter?’

‘Mike, this video Zena found. It’s awful, really awful. Zena reckons it was shot near Sarajevo. It shows street scenes and people firing guns. Then in the middle of the shooting, it shows a woman and child. A soldier follows them into a house. The video follows the man upstairs. When the man with the camera goes upstairs—’ her voice faltered then petered out altogether.

‘Jackie, are you there, you alright?’

‘Mikhail, this is Zena. Jackie is too upset. The tape shows a man dressed in IFOR uniform. He followed a woman and child into a room.’ Zena’s voice trembled, her perfect English faltered. ‘Soldier
shoots woman. Then he rapes child. All this is on video. The man shooting video must be in doorway. Scenes are horrible.’

Zena paused and took a deep breath. ‘After. The soldier kills the girl. Before the end there are images of the same man setting fire to the house and leaving. Some are shot close to, they show the face and uniform name badge.’ Zena paused and took another deep breath. ‘The name is Butler.’

It was a couple of hours before they were able to start searching the clinic, a process that would take most of the night. They started with Butler’s office, from which his computer and files were removed. Nash took little part in the early stages. His worry over Stella’s condition was compounded by the feeling there was something he should have remembered.

‘We ought to inspect the operating theatre,’ he suggested to Pratt when they finished in Butler’s office. ‘We need evidence the
transplants
were conducted here.’

Accompanied by Clara they followed the signs along the empty corridor to the theatre. They stopped by the emergency exit and examined it. ‘Our man knew his business,’ Pratt observed. He
shivered
slightly, ‘The trouble is it’s left the building so cold.’

They turned into the preparation room then on into the theatre itself. They paused in the doorway waiting for the bank of lights to reach full power. The room was bare and sterile. If anything, Nash thought, it felt even colder in there.

Clara spotted a refrigerator and walked over to it. She opened the door. Her cry brought both men running. Nash felt his stomach heave as he recognized what was in there. The clear plastic boxes contained what were undoubtedly body parts, human body parts.

Nash recovered slightly. ‘Where the hell have they come from?’ He looked at his companions. ‘They can’t be left over from the bodies recovered from the tarn. These are far too recent.’

He looked round again then walked beyond the operating table to a large stainless steel door. His memory went back to his
childhood
, to the job he’d had in the school holidays. He’d worked for the village butcher as a delivery boy. When they were busy, he was also given odd jobs around the shop. The door Nash was approaching was just like the heavy steel door to the meat safe. He
reached for the big, levered handle half expecting to see the carcase of a pig hanging from a hook inside.

And there it was. Just where it should have been. Then he realized he wasn’t a boy any longer. And this wasn’t the village butchers. And it wasn’t a pig. Naked, eyeless, the body had a series of gaping wounds where organs had been removed. Despite the mutilation Nash recognized it instantly – the remains of what had once been Detective Sergeant Owen Thomas.