Stephen Booth - Dying to Sin

Cooper became aware that the banging of corrugated-iron sheets had stopped. That could only mean the wind had dropped. He stopped and looked across the mine to the east. He couldn’t see the agent’s house now, or the base of the chimney, and certainly not the scaffold-like horse gin marking the site of the Red Soil shaft. The bank of fog was too dense.

‘Diane, have you noticed the banging has stopped?’ he said.

‘Yes, thank God.’

‘Didn’t it occur to you that there shouldn’t have been any banging in the first place?’ said Cooper. ‘There’s no wind.’

Fry looked at the thick blanket of fog enveloping the mine. ‘No, it didn’t occur to me. But you’re right.’

‘Damn it, I should have noticed before. Damn it.’

Cooper stood quite still and listened, straining his ears for the slightest noise. After a few moments, he became convinced that he was only imagining things, creating voices where there weren’t any. It was another effect of the fog, producing sounds which weren’t really sounds at all but the components of silence. It seemed to him that he was hearing an echo, but without the noise that should have preceded it.

‘Do you think Jack Elder is still here in the mine somewhere?’ said Fry.

‘If not him, then someone else that he came to meet,’ said Cooper. ‘That banging sounded like a signal to me.’

At that moment, a figure appeared ahead of them, catching the light from their torches and throwing a vast, distorted shadow on the wall of the engine house.

‘Can you see who it is?’ whispered Cooper.

‘Yes,’ said Fry. ‘It’s PC Bloody Palfreyman. And he’s carrying a shotgun.’

From his position on the mound, David Palfreyman heard the voices, but couldn’t locate them in the fog. He stepped quickly behind the winding gear, bringing the shotgun up ready.

Two of them, at least. That was pretty much as he’d expected. He could take two out easily, one with each barrel. And he’d be sure of killing them, if he got close enough. Or make a nice mess of them, anyway, if he couldn’t.

The fog should help him. And this maze of ruined buildings and the mountains of spoil made it easy to slip out of sight at any moment.

He’d known they would come, had judged them just right. He hadn’t lost his old instincts. No one came on to his patch and treated him like that. There were different forms of justice, and some were more final than others. Tonight, they would find out everything they needed to know about his form of justice.

It was only when the light of the torches hit him that Palfreyman realized he’d exposed his position. Had they recognized him? It didn’t matter. He knew this place better than they did, and he could be among them before they got anywhere near their car.

Palfreyman laughed quietly to himself. Poor sods. They thought they were the kings around here now. Some of them thought they were pretty clever. But they’d pissed PC David Palfreyman off, and they had it coming.

He slithered down the east side of the mound and ran to the corner of the winding house. He could see them now, trying to keep low, scrambling towards a vehicle parked in front of the agent’s house.

Cooper and Fry had taken cover at the base of the square chimney, where the roof of the flue had collapsed. There was no more cover left between here and the car. They would have to cross the track and yards of muddy ground churned by cattle before they got anywhere near it.

Standing, half-stooped, in the stink and gloom, Cooper felt the presence of Fry beside him, the only source of warmth in the cold night. Fry had made the call on her mobile, and back-up would be here, an armed response vehicle on its way. But the ARV had probably been cruising the M1 when its crew got the shout. They could be twenty minutes reaching Sheldon. Even the helicopter wouldn’t be getting airborne from Ripley in this fog.

‘We’re in trouble, Diane,’ whispered Cooper.

‘I think I’d figured that out.’

‘Are we going to make a run for the car, or what?’

‘Well, he saw us, so he must know roughly where we are.’

‘And if he can see the car — ’

‘Yes. Why didn’t we leave it out of sight? Whose idea was it to bring it all the way in?’

‘Yours,’ said Cooper.

‘Oh. Well, it would only have been further away if we hadn’t.’

‘I suppose.’

‘At least now we know what the package was that Jack Elder brought,’ said Fry. ‘He must have the right contacts in Nottingham to get hold of an illegal shotgun. I wonder what influence Palfreyman has over people like Elder to make them do what he wants. Is it fear? Respect? I don’t understand it.’

‘Do you have any ideas about how we’re going to get out of this, or are you just talking for the sake of it?’ hissed Cooper.

‘Are you carrying a weapon at all?’

‘Just my ASP.’

‘Me too.’

‘Are you suggesting we wait until he gets within arm’s length and take him down with a baton across the back of the head? He’s got a shotgun, Diane.’

‘Ben, I don’t have any other ideas.’

Cooper was silent for a moment, absorbing the shock of hearing Fry admit that she didn’t know what to do. It must have been painful for her to say it.

He leaned closer and whispered. ‘Well, we’re going to have to run for it, aren’t we?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s go now, before he gets a fix on our exact position.’

‘Wait,’ said Fry.

‘What now?’

‘I haven’t got the right shoes on for running.’

‘Tough.’ Cooper peered round the corner of the chimney. ‘I can’t see him now. Perhaps he’s gone the other way.’

‘Some hopes.’

‘Well, we can’t wait any longer. I’d rather die in the open air than down here.’

‘All right, let’s go. One-two-three. Now!’

They burst from cover and raced across the open ground, stumbling and sliding but managing not to fall flat on their faces. Fry broke to the left as they reached the car, remembering that Cooper had the keys. But Cooper waited until he was close to the vehicle before pressing the button to de-activate the locks, knowing that the lights would flash and alert anyone watching. There was nothing he could do about that.

Moments later, they were both inside, gasping with exertion and sweating despite the cold. Cooper started the car, thankful that he’d reversed into the mine.

‘Thank God for that. Drive!’ said Fry.

A second after she’d spoken, the butt of a shotgun crashed through the window, showering her with fragments of glass. Fry screamed as two barrels thrust through the gap, pointing straight at her head.

There was a long moment, frozen in time, while the fog drifted in through the car window. David Palfreyman stood quite still, his finger tensed on the trigger. Behind him, he could hear the sound of another car approaching.

Suddenly, it had become a different situation. Maybe he’d miscalculated, and made his move at the wrong time. But it wasn’t beyond his abilities to sort out. None of these people were clever enough to get away from him.

‘You two stay there,’ he grunted. ‘And don’t bloody move.’

Cooper raised his head. For a second, he glimpsed Palfreyman at the shattered window, bending down to peer into the car. His shotgun was resting on the glass, both barrels pointing into the passenger seat. If it was fired at that range, in an enclosed space, he and Fry were both dead meat.

But then Palfreyman was gone, stepping away from the car and vanishing instantly into the fog.

Fry had her eyes closed, until Cooper touched her arm.

‘Am I still alive?’ she said.

‘Yes, somehow.’

‘What happened?’