Peter James - Dead at First Sight

Kevin Hall, struggling to keep awake, periodically ran the engine to crank the heating up and drained the last of the coffee, that had long gone cold, from his thermos flask. Beside him, DC Wilde mostly occupied herself with her phone, exchanging texts with her partner who was a nurse on night shift in West Sussex, and occasionally showing him jokes and videos that a friend was sending her on WhatsApp. Several of them were of questionable political correctness, but they sure helped pass the time.

He winced at one she showed him, captioned, ‘If you ever moan about a splinter...’ It showed a young man, lying on what looked like a hospital trolley, with the sharp, thin shoot of a tree branch lancing his scrotum and emerging from his stomach just above his navel.

‘Yech! How did the poor sod end up like that, Velvet?’ Hall asked her.

She shrugged, then in her rich Belfast accent said, ‘Guess he branched out from whatever he was doing.’

He laughed. ‘You are one sick puppy!’

She replied, ‘I’m taking that as a compliment.’

A few minutes later they saw a flatbed truck, with a winch in the rear, pull up at the entrance to the underground car park of Marina Heights. On the side of the vehicle were emblazoned the words, SUSSEX TYRE & BREAKDOWN SERVICES.

Hall was hoping against hope that an arrest would be made today. Tomorrow his team, Reading, were playing a crucial game against Queens Park Rangers and he wanted to be there in the crowd to lend his voluble support.

The garage doors opened and the truck drove down the ramp.

He called Comms and asked for the duty Oscar-1. Inspector Mark Evans came on the line. ‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero?’

‘Sir, a truck has just entered Marina Heights underground car park, from a company called Sussex Tyre & Breakdown Services. Can you find out who has requested it?’

‘SUSSEX TYRE & BREAKDOWN SERVICES?’

‘Yes yes.’

‘I’ll get it checked and come back to you, Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Tooth watched as the garage door lowered seconds after the breakdown truck had descended. Wondering. Had it been called to fix a flat tyre?

He put his hand into his inside pocket, pulled out his gun and deactivated the safety catch. If he was right in his assumption, Copeland would be emerging soon. And he would be ready. The fuel would carry Copeland no more than a few hundred yards from the entrance — if that far.

Jules de Copeland, standing in the car park in the glare of the breakdown truck’s headlights, directed the driver. He stood, watching, as the man in overalls got out and examined the Kia’s front right tyre. After just a few seconds he shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t be clever to repair that, sir,’ he said. ‘That’s a bad tear.’

‘What can you do?’ Copeland asked. ‘I’ll pay whatever’s necessary.’

‘No need, not a problem, it’s down to the hire company. I’ll just replace it. I brought a spare, just in case.’

Copeland gave him a high-five. He watched him drop a ramp at the rear of his truck and, expertly, roll down a heavy-duty jack. He cranked up the front of the car and set to work. Fifteen minutes later there was a brand-new tyre on the wheel. He dropped the car back down, produced a form for Copeland to sign, rejected the fifty-pound note he was offered as a tip and jumped back into his cab.

Copeland pressed the clicker to open the garage door and the truck drove up the steep exit and out into the grey, early-morning light.

As soon as the door clattered back down, Copeland hurried back up to the fifth floor, switching off his phone and dropping it down the rubbish chute on the way. He went into his flat and peered down through the window.

The radio in Kevin Hall’s phone crackled briefly. ‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero?’

‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero,’ he answered. It was Oscar-1.

‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero, I have information on the car that the truck from Sussex Tyre and Breakdown Services was called to attend. It is an Avis rental vehicle, a Kia, index Mike Victor, One Nine, Bravo November Zulu, rented to a Samuel Jackson on October 9th. There is a marker on this car. Samuel Jackson is believed to be one of the aliases of a wanted suspect, Jules de Copeland, who also goes under the name of Tunde Oganjimi. He is believed to be armed and extremely dangerous.’

As Oscar-1 spoke, Hall and Wilde watched the truck make a left turn, east, away from Brighton. Hall noted there was just one man in the cab, but was it the same man who had been there when it arrived?

‘Sir,’ Hall said, ‘it’s possible Copeland could be riding, hidden, in this truck — that he might have hijacked it? Permission to leave station and interrogate the breakdown vehicle? We’ve just been relieved by another team to continue the surveillance.’

‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero, leave station and follow discreetly at a safe distance but do not attempt to stop it. I’ll get an Armed Response Vehicle to you — there is one ten minutes away. Repeat, do not attempt to stop it. Understood?’

‘Do not attempt to stop,’ Hall repeated. ‘Yes yes.’

‘Go for it,’ came the reply. ‘But maintain a safe distance.’

Hall started the car, drove out of the parking area and stopped at the main road. The morning rush hour had started and a line of cars went past. Obeying the instruction to be discreet, he pulled out into a gap, heading east, without switching on the blue lights, and accelerated hard. He rapidly overtook several vehicles that were sticking to the 50 mph limit. Within moments, through the misty rain, he could just make out faint red tail lights and the silhouette of the truck directly ahead in the distance.

Hall quickly narrowed the gap to the vehicle along the clifftop dual carriageway, passing the renowned girl’s school Roedean and then the home for blind veterans. He slowed as they went downhill towards the village of Rottingdean, where the breakdown truck had stopped at traffic lights. Hall braked to a halt and both he and Velvet Wilde looked hard at the vehicle. There was no sign of anyone through the rear window of the cab except for the driver. He told Velvet Wilde to radio Oscar-1.

‘Charlie Romeo Six Four Zero, sir,’ she said to Mark Evans. ‘We are behind the breakdown truck, continuing east.’

‘The ARV is heading west towards you from Newhaven. ETA two minutes. Maintain your position. They will do the stop.’

‘Yes yes.’

As they drove down into a sweeping dip and up the other side, they saw strobing blue lights approaching from the opposite direction at speed. Seconds later a dark, unmarked Audi, with lights still flashing, made a sharp U-turn in front of them and accelerated towards the truck, gaining on it rapidly.

It tucked in behind the vehicle, flashing its headlights and whup-whupping the siren. The truck immediately braked and pulled into the roadside.

Hall pulled up a short distance behind them. He and Wilde watched two uniformed officers in body armour climb out of the Audi, crouching low, each holding an automatic rifle. They advanced slowly and purposefully.

The two detectives got out, staying back as instructed.

One armed officer checked out the rear of the truck with his torch, while the other walked up to the cab, keeping his gun low but visible.

Hall and Wilde moved to within earshot.

The driver lowered his window. ‘Good morning, officer,’ the driver said. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Can you tell me where you’ve just been?’

‘Delivering and fitting a new tyre to an Avis rental vehicle at Marina Heights — a Kia. We work under contract for them.’