Stephen Booth - Scared to Live

‘Yes.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s him and Luanne. They’re right down the north end of the gardens, near where the boats are docking after the parade.’

‘Can you get to them, Ben?’

‘I’m on the wrong side of the river. The nearest crossing is the footbridge. I’ll have to go back and cross over.’

‘Which way is Mullen heading?’

‘He’s standing still at the moment. No, wait — he’s moving.’

‘Has he seen you, do you think?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m on the darkest part of the bank over here. But he’s moving all right. God, he’s running. Diane, he’s started to run. He’ll be on the road in a minute.’

‘I’ll get back to the car and drive down. Gavin, where are you?’

‘By the ice-cream kiosk in the Pavilion car park.’

‘Get to the road, and I’ll pick you up.’

There was no way of spotting Brian Mullen again, once he’d disappeared into the crowd. There were too many paths up there in the trees, too many dark corners, too many members of the public in the way. And too many of them were parents with small children.

‘I’m pretty sure there’s no way out at the other end of the gardens,’ said Cooper. ‘Not unless you’re fit enough to scramble up the slope and get over that wall. Mullen couldn’t do it with a small child in tow.’

‘So he’ll have to come back this way?’

‘The nearest way out on to the road is by the netball court. I left my car at this end, Diane — opposite the church.’

‘OK, we’ll catch you up. Don’t worry, he hasn’t got a big start on us.’

But the police on traffic duty had closed off the entire stretch of road when the fireworks started, and Fry found lines of traffic were already backing up in both directions.

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Did Mullen get through?’ asked Cooper when she told him.

‘A CSO up here says a red Citroen went through like a bat out of hell just before they closed the road.’

‘It’s lucky I was on this side of the gardens. Georgi’s with me now, and we’re nearly at my car. Where do you suppose he’s going?’

‘He isn’t going anywhere, as far as I’m concerned. His car will be stopped when it reaches Cromford. There are two officers posted at the junction, with manual control of the traffic lights.’

Kotsev followed Cooper into his Toyota, and it bounced off the kerb as Cooper accelerated down the empty roadway.

‘He’s definitely heading south, Diane?’

‘Yes. There’s nothing else that way, is there? No other roads? No way he can dodge us?’

‘There’s just Masson Mill. It’s only three hundred and fifty yards downstream from the gardens, but he’ll be able to see the Cromford junction from there. He’s not an idiot — if he sees the uniforms standing at the lights, he’ll know what’s going on.’

‘Masson Mill? The shopping village?’

‘That’s it. He could turn into the car park at the mill — the walls are high enough for him to get out of sight there.’

‘OK. He might think we’ll go flying straight past into Cromford. We’ll probably find him sitting quietly with his headlights off, praying that we don’t stop.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

The central storeys of the mill were lit up, picking out Arkwright’s name on the brickwork. But the rest of the building and the roofs of the weaving sheds below the road were in complete darkness. At the entrance to the car park, a couple of attendants leaned against a wall, looking bored as they waited for owners to return for their vehicles.

Sensing that something was wrong, Cooper twisted his head round, and stamped on the brakes.

‘Damn. The Citroen is on the forecourt in front of the main entrance. I almost didn’t see it.’

Motorists in the queue of stalled traffic stared at him curiously as he reversed a few yards towards Mullen’s car. It was parked at an awkward angle between two other vehicles that had been left there when the Car park full signs went up.

‘He must have swung straight across the pavement as he went through the pedestrian crossing. And I bet none of these people noticed anything.’

‘They don’t look happy about the hold-up,’ said Kotsev. ‘Why should they report another driver for escaping it?’

Cooper parked the Toyota across the Citroen’s tail end to block it in. As they approached the vehicle on either side, he spoke into his radio.

‘Diane, we’ve got Mullen’s car, in the main entrance to the shopping village. Right on the forecourt in front of the doors, you can’t miss it.’

‘You said that about Dinkie Donuts.’

‘Georgi and I are right here.’

‘Who’s in the car?’

Cooper peered in through the windows, though he’d already guessed the answer.

‘No one. They’ve legged it.’

‘Where could they have gone? The shopping village is closed.’

‘They can’t have gone far.’

Then Cooper saw an iron stairway leading down from the forecourt. At the bottom was a door into the second level of the car park, just below the road. The door was painted red and lit up like a beacon. And it was open.

‘That’s the obvious way, Georgi, wouldn’t you say? Especially if you were in a hurry.’

‘Let’s go, then.’

‘Hold on a minute.’ Cooper fetched his torch from the back seat of the Toyota. It was a four-cell Maglite, nearly fifteen inches long and weighing at least a couple of pounds. Not only would it give him a good light, but it was handy as a weapon, at a push. Then he found a spare torch from the car and handed it to Kotsev. ‘You might need this.’

He turned at the sound of a horn, and saw Fry’s Peugeot approaching, and her window winding down.

‘We’ll come in from the other direction,’ she called.

‘There’s a roof level up the ramp, Diane. You might start there.’

‘OK.’

She began to put her car into gear again, but Cooper put his hand on the door. ‘How far are we going with this?’ he said. ‘I mean, Brian Mullen hasn’t committed any crime that we know of.’

Fry gazed back coolly. ‘He’s running for a reason,’ she said, as the Peugeot pulled away.

Cooper and Kotsev clattered down the iron stairs and through the red door. Inside, the parking levels were already half empty, the gaps between vehicles allowing a view right down to the ramps at the entrance. They shone their torches into the corners and along the sides of the ramps.

They hadn’t been inside the car park long when Cooper heard a voice in his ear.

‘We’re coming in now,’ said Fry. ‘These attendants haven’t seen anyone in the last few minutes, but I’ll leave them to keep watch. How many parking levels are there, Ben?’

‘Three, I think.’

Cooper found a door by the stairs, which led into the main building.

‘Hey, there’s a door open here,’ he said.

‘Be careful, Ben.’

‘Aren’t I always?’

‘Actually, no.’

Cooper allowed himself a smile as he entered the darkened mill. The times Fry expressed concern for his welfare were so rare that they were worth collecting and treasuring for posterity.

He and Kotsev made their way slowly through the shopping floor. Although it was open-plan, there were far too many places to hide — counters and display units, racks of winter coats and free-standing shelves full of pottery. It would take dozens of people to search this place properly.

Without the presence of people, the dominant smell was the scent of polish rising from the wooden floors, as if they were walking through a low-lying mist. Cooper’s torchlight reflected off mirrors everywhere, dazzling him with sudden bursts of glare. Time and again, he caught a movement across the other side of the floor and swung his Maglite towards it, only to see himself or Georgi staring back from a full-length mirror, pale and wide-eyed like ghosts.