M. Arlidge - Little Boy Blue

And her weapon of choice would be tomorrow’s edition with its screaming banner headline:

COP TURNED KILLER.

Helen walked quickly towards the back of the store, keeping her head down. She was an odd sight for a cold autumn evening – boots and leathers on her bottom half, but only a thin black vest top above. More curious still were the scratches on her face and arms. She looked a little like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, which of course she had.

It was cold in the refrigerated section of the supermarket and Helen didn’t linger, marching to the manager’s office at the rear and pushing inside. Peter Banyard was still unnerved from their first meeting and looked positively shocked now by her second appearance of the day.

‘Are you ok? Can I get you anything?’ he eventually said, clocking her strange appearance.

‘I’m fine, but I need to ask you another question.’

‘I haven’t got your paperwork ready yet if that’s -’

‘That’s not why I’m here. I want you to look at this picture, tell me if you recognize this man.’

Her hand was shaking slightly as she held up her phone for him. On the screen was one of the photos the press had used when they’d ‘outed’ Robert Stonehill several years earlier.

The manager stared at the photo.

‘Do you know him?’ Helen repeated more loudly.

‘Well, yes. That’s Aaron West.’

‘He works for you?’ Helen continued, insistent.

‘He’s one of our temporary workers. We take them on around Halloween, Bonfire Night and so on.’

‘Does he work the tills?’

‘Tills, shelves, wherever we need him. He does a few shifts a week – has been for a few months now.’

Just enough time for him to plan Helen’s downfall. He had lifted customers’ credit card details while working the tills, then used their details to purchase his specialist S&M gear – gear that would eventually lead the police back to her.

‘Did you check his credentials? His ID?’

‘Yes,’ Banyard replied, looking unnerved, ‘although the checks for temporary workers aren’t perhaps as rigorous as for our permanent staff.’

‘I bet they’re not,’ Helen snarled back, just about containing her anger. ‘Do you have an address for him?’

‘We should do,’ the manager replied, ‘but I’m not sure that will be necessary.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I just saw him out the back. In the locker area. I can take you th-’

But he didn’t get to finish. Helen was already gone.

She sprinted across the store, scattering shoppers in her wake. The Staff Only door was fifty feet away and Helen charged towards it, glancing around for someone to help her open it. But there was no one to hand and she couldn’t delay, so she launched herself at it. Her shoulder hit the cheap door hard, wrenching the lock from its socket.

Two alarmed faces stared at her as she hurried inside – two employees who were about to return to work, dumbfounded by Helen’s dramatic entrance.

‘Where are the lockers?’

For a moment they were speechless.

‘The lockers,’ Helen barked.

One of the workers now pointed to a door on her left. Helen was off again, eating up the yards to the door and pushing through it. To her dismay, the dingy locker room was empty, but Helen sensed movement and now saw the fire exit at the far end of the room swinging gently to a close. Had he heard her coming and taken flight? If so, he was only a few seconds ahead of her.

Helen burst out into the night, scanning desperately left and right for signs of her quarry. And there he was. Not forty yards away from her down a narrow alley, sprinting as if his life depended on it. Helen took off in pursuit, pounding the concrete as she pushed herself to narrow the gap between them.

It looked as though the alleyway would lead them back into the main shopping precinct where most of the big stores were to be found. Was that Robert’s plan? To lose himself in the crowds? Helen couldn’t allow that so, even though her lungs were burning, she upped her speed again. The bitter irony of her pursuit wasn’t lost on her – she’d been searching for her nephew for so long and now here he was, intent on escaping her.

He had now reached the end of the alleyway and darted round to the left. Helen couldn’t afford to let him out of her sight, but she was only fifteen feet behind now. Reaching the end of the alley, she tore around the corner in the same direction as Robert – running smack into a middle-aged man laden with shopping bags. She cannoned off him, falling to the ground, jarring her frame nastily on the concrete floor as she did so. Pain seared through her, but she was already clambering to her feet. Holding her hand up in apology, she sidestepped the concerned shoppers hurrying to help her.

She ran her eye over the sea of shoppers but couldn’t see Robert. Had he taken advantage of her accident to disappear into one of the main shops? No, there he was. Helen glimpsed his deep-red hoodie, bobbing as he hurried north towards the precinct exit. Shaking herself down, Helen tore off in the same direction.

The chase was on.

‘We’ve just had a call from Wilkinson’s in Shirley. Apparently, DI Grace just left there in a hurry.’

McAndrew’s tone was hushed. She clearly felt awkward working against their boss, but orders were orders, so she’d brought her news straight to Sanderson and Charlie.

‘This is the address of the store -’

‘I know where it is,’ Sanderson interrupted. ‘Alert uniform in the area to be on their guard – I want any sightings radioed in immediately.’

‘I’ll advise officers in outlying areas to head towards the precinct – they can form a wider net in case she slips through.’

‘Was she on foot?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Good, then we’ve got a good chance of taking her. I’ll take the car down there now.’

Charlie watched Sanderson head off, her emotions in riot. Since the arrest warrant had been finalized, she had been torn in two. One part of her wanted to do her duty like McAndrew, but the greater part of her wanted to warn Helen of the danger she was now in. She couldn’t call or text her as that would be too easily traced back to her, but perhaps there was a payphone in one of the local pubs? Charlie had the sense that the net was closing on Helen now and, unless she did something to help her, she was doomed.

‘DS Brooks is coming with me. You can take point here.’

It was said to McAndrew, but was aimed at Charlie. Sanderson was looking at her as if she could read her mind, sensing her disloyalty. The eyes of the room were on her now so with a heavy heart, Charlie said:

‘Sure. Let’s go.’

There would be no escape for Helen today.

Helen grasped the chain link fence and vaulted it in one easy motion, landing gently on the other side. Her nephew had veered away from the city centre as fast as he could, seeking out the footpaths and back alleys that would be deserted as night closed in. Before long he’d reached an allotment and was now cutting across it, heading towards the south of the city. Helen was close behind, running as fast as she could over the hard, rutted ground.

Had Robert always planned this as an escape route? He seemed to know his way without thinking, avoiding public places and possible obstructions. Normally Helen would have called in her pursuit in an attempt to cut him off, but that wasn’t an option now.

When they’d first met, Helen would have been confident of winning this contest. Robert was just a young man then – he didn’t have her physical training, nor her experience. Now there seemed to be something different about him. He was leaner, fitter, and she could see that his head was shaved. He had a smooth, militaristic look, almost as if he were the one who had now been in training, preparing to avenge himself on the woman who had killed his mother and ruined his life.