Jack Slater - No Place to Hide

‘Well, the only way to stop people like him is to help us put them away.’

‘Yeah, right. There’s no way you’d catch all of them. And as soon as they found out who shopped their mates, what do you think would happen?’

‘Look, I told you. All I want Millic for, for now, is a link in a chain that could lead to a killer who might be one of their customers. How can that do any harm? You tell me what you know, I can go talk to him, job done.’

‘Yeah, and where do you think he’ll imagine you got the information, eh? After you just tried to take him in here?’ The landlord shook his head. ‘No way.’

‘Well, where else does he go then? He’s not in here every night, is he?’

‘I’ve heard you can find him in the Blue Boar sometimes, up by the library.’

‘OK then. Any idea which nights?’

‘He’s not usually in here on Saturdays or Mondays.’

‘Right.’ Pete stood up, clapped the man on the back. ‘Thank you. Oh, by the way, do you get any coppers in here that you know of?’

‘Eh?’ He shook his head. ‘That’d be a bloody good mix, wouldn’t it?’

Pete shrugged. ‘Stranger things have happened.’

‘I suppose. But, no, not that I’m aware of. Why?’

‘If you did, I could ask them instead of you, couldn’t I?’ And, more to the point, if there was a link between the Armenian and anyone on the force, it had to have started somewhere. Here was as good a place as any to start looking for it.

*

Pete was struggling to eat his fish and chips. His mouth felt dry, the food curdling in his stomach. The TV was on at the far end of the room – some mindless rubbish, the volume turned down so that they could talk, though nothing was being said. Finally, the heavy silence was too much. He looked up from his plate. Annie was concentrating on her food, hoovering it up with relish. Louise’s head was down. She had eaten some, but her heart was no more in it than his.

‘I got some news about Tommy today,’ he said.

Annie’s head snapped up. ‘Where is he? Is he OK?’

‘I don’t know where he is, love. What I do know is, he’s alive. One of Simon’s team spoke to a shop assistant who served him in the Co-op on the Dunsford Road. She said he bought plasters and bandages. Claimed he’d fallen out of a tree or something.’

‘So, why hasn’t he come home?’

‘He must have been with Burton all that time. Maybe he thinks he’ll be accused along with him.’

‘But, he won’t, will he? He’s only a kid himself. He couldn’t do all those things they’re saying were done to those girls.’

Pete frowned. ‘What are they saying?’ Annie was ten years old. He didn’t want her introduced to the subject of sex at all yet, never mind in this way. She was a bright kid, of course. She was aware of what went on in the world, but he didn’t want it brought to her doorstep, especially in this way. He wanted to leave it on the news – at a distance – for as long as possible.

‘They’re saying he killed two girls and raped that one you found. Rosie. But, Tommy’s only a kid. It’s crazy.’

‘Of course it is, love.’ Pete was not going to tell her about the evidence they had to the contrary and he hoped that Louise would not mention it either. He glanced across at her. She had stopped eating and was watching him, a strange light in her eyes. They had had a massive row about the forensic evidence against Tommy when it came to light. ‘But if Tommy was with Burton all that time – and Burton was a teacher, remember – there’s no telling what he could have convinced him of.’

‘So, you’ve got to un-convince him. Make him see that nobody believes he’s guilty, so he can come home,’ Annie insisted.

A swell of emotion swept over him, its intensity almost overpowering. He dropped his knife and fork, got up and stepped around the table. Taking Annie in his arms, he hugged her like he’d never let go. He felt her slender arms around his waist, smelt the shampoo in her hair as she laid her head against his chest. His grip tightened even further, eyes closing as emotion trembled in his chest. Then he felt her squirm in his grip. He opened his eyes. She was staring up at him. ‘God, I love you,’ he murmured.

Looking up at Louise, who was watching them now, he opened his arms and reached out to her, too. She hesitated.

Come on , he thought. Don’t just sit there . Please.

Finally, she left her seat and joined them on the other side of Annie. He drew her in, one arm around her waist, and sighed deeply. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without the pair of you.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pete switched off the engine and checked the dashboard clock: 6.28 a.m. It was still fully dark, the street lights casting a yellow glow over the houses and parked cars on either side of the steep road. All was quiet. Peaceful.

He felt emotionally drained after last night. He didn’t know why. Was he not as ready as he’d thought to come back to work? The intensity of the Rosie Whitlock case had been difficult to deal with on top of everything else. And now this one, just days later . . . It was a lot to handle with the lack of anything concrete on Tommy’s situation, the difficulties that Louise was still facing and the guilt he couldn’t help feeling over how much he had come to rely on Annie over the past few months and especially since he’d come back to work.

Much as he knew that the police shrink at Middlemoor was going to try to find one, he was aware there was no easy answer.

He shook his head.

Two cars up, on the far side, its nose pointing downhill, he could see Jane’s little green Vauxhall. Pete climbed out of his car and pressed the remote as he crossed the road towards Jane’s Corsa. The remote locking system clunked behind him.

Dave had called him at home last night, interrupting a discussion of exactly how they could let Tommy know that it was safe for him to come home, to say that he’d found out where Petrosyan was currently living.

The address he’d got was a few doors along from the next junction up the hill.

Jane’s window buzzed down as Pete approached. ‘Morning, boss.’

‘Any sign of Dave?’

Further down the hill, a car turned a corner towards them, headlights bright and dazzling in the crisp, frosty morning.

‘Not yet. Maybe this is him.’

Pete went around the little car and climbed into the passenger seat. Jane left the window down as the other car approached slowly up the hill, eventually resolving into a silver Ford Mondeo just like the one Pete was driving. As it drew level with them, its window slid down and it stopped.

‘Morning all,’ Dave said brightly from the passenger seat, beyond Dick Feeney. ‘What’s the plan then? No dark alleys round here, are there?’

‘If there are, they’re all yours,’ Pete told him. ‘Meantime, you two take the next street across. Park where you can, facing downhill like Jane has. I’ll go up onto his street and keep an eye on his doorway. When he comes out, I’ll let you know, then we’ll leapfrog him with the three cars so that one of us has got him in sight all the time. If he’s as paranoid as they reckon, that should save him spotting us until he gets where he’s going and we can take him there.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

‘Right, let’s get into position.’

Pete climbed out of Jane’s car and crossed back to his own while Dick drove on up the street, turning right at the junction. As they went from sight, he started his engine and followed them up the hill. Their target lived three doors along to the right. Pete turned left, found a space a few cars along and backed into it, lining his side-mirror up along the pavement. Then he switched off the engine and settled in to wait.