Archer, Jeffrey - Hidden in Plain Sight

‘Did anyone get away?’ asked William.

‘Thanks to the carpenter and the counter-terrorism officers, it seems unlikely. But three of those who were arrested have been released on bail and are now threatening to sue the police.’

‘Let me guess,’ said William. ‘Three of the lookouts?’

‘So, what’s their story?’ asked Lamont.

‘They claim they were walking home peacefully after enjoying a drink at their local when they were attacked without provocation by the police. Their lawyer is threatening us with unlawful arrest and police brutality.’

‘Spare me,’ said Lamont.

‘But if we were to drop the charges, they won’t take the matter any further.’

‘Which means they must have previous as long as your arm,’ said Jackie.

‘You’re right,’ said the Hawk. ‘But, frankly, they’re pretty low down the food chain. This time we’ve caught the shark, so I think we can allow a few minnows to escape.’

‘What about the fourth lookout?’ asked Lamont.

‘He was stoned out of his mind,’ said the commander. ‘He should be in a hospital bed, not a prison cell.’

‘And Donoghue?’ said William.

‘He’s been charged with assaulting a police officer. He was refused bail, and with his record he’s looking at four to six years at least.’

The banging of palms on the table lasted for some time.

‘I do have one piece of sad news to report, however,’ continued the Hawk. ‘The lad who so nearly stopped Donoghue, but managed to get hold of his radio – allowing us those vital forty-two seconds – was badly injured, and may have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.’

‘On a constable’s pension,’ said William. ‘Ending up as just another statistic on an internal report and forgotten by the public in a few days. He should get one of those three holdalls full of cash. That’s the least he deserves.’

‘Two holdalls,’ said Lamont. ‘The third one was empty, probably waiting to be filled with the rest of the night’s takings.’

‘I didn’t open all three of them,’ said William, looking directly at Lamont, ‘but I picked up the third one, and could have sworn it was just as heavy as the other two.’

An uncomfortable silence descended around the table.

‘You’re mistaken, DS Warwick,’ said Lamont firmly. ‘It was empty, as DC Roycroft will confirm.’

Jackie gave a perfunctory nod, but didn’t speak.

‘Perhaps Marlboro Man is not the only person hoping to spend a long holiday somewhere warm,’ said William, unable to restrain himself any longer.

‘Watch your tongue, laddie!’ barked Lamont. ‘I’ve already told you, there was nothing in the third bag, so just leave it at that.’

‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ said the commander. ‘This is not the way colleagues should behave after such a triumph.’

‘Unless one of us has behaved as badly as the criminals,’ said William, looking directly at Lamont.

The superintendent rose from his place, clenched his fist and leant threateningly across the table just as there was a knock at the door, and the Hawk’s secretary came rushing in.

‘Now’s not a good time, Angela,’ said the commander.

‘It’s just that a Mr Knox has called from the Fitzmolean to say DS Warwick’s wife has been rushed into hospital.’

William leapt to his feet. ‘Which hospital?’

‘The Chelsea and Westminster.’

‘And there was another call I thought you would all want to know about . . .’ But William had already left the office before Angela could pass on the news.

He ran along the corridor, down the stairs and out onto the street, where he hailed the first taxi he saw.

A car’s headlights beamed across the water, but only for a brief moment before they were turned off.

The captain gave the command to lower the RIB. Moments later he and a young deckhand climbed into a bobbing motor boat. They began to motor towards the shore, the navigator guiding them towards a narrow inlet – not for the first time – as the captain scanned the water to spot anything that shouldn’t be there. A couple of seagulls squawked above them, clearly enjoying their company, while a flock of sheep on a nearby hill showed no interest.

And then he saw him standing on the beach.

The captain changed direction and headed for the shore.

‘Where to, guv?’

‘The Chelsea and Westminster hospital,’ said William. ‘And I’m already late.’

Even Danny would have been impressed by the side streets and back-doubles the cab driver took to get his passenger to the hospital in the shortest possible time.

‘Going to have a baby, are we?’ said the cabbie, as William handed him a five-pound note.

‘Two in fact. How did you guess?’

‘ “I’m already late” was the first clue, and then the expression on your face clinched it.’

William was about to say ‘keep the change’ when the cabbie handed the note back to him and said, ‘Have this one on me, guv. And if you know anyone who was involved in catching those bastards last night, pass on my congratulations.’

‘Will do,’ said William, before rushing into the hospital and heading straight for the front desk.

‘Warwick, Beth Warwick,’ he said to the woman seated behind the counter. ‘I’m her husband.’

She checked the screen in front of her and said, ‘Cavell ward, fourth floor, room three. Good luck!’

William avoided the group of people waiting for a lift, aware that hospital elevators were built to move slowly. Instead he took the stairs two at a time. By the time he reached the fourth floor, he was out of breath. A nurse was waiting for him in the corridor, clipboard in hand.

‘I can only hope it was something important that kept you, Mr Warwick,’ she said. ‘Because your wife has just given birth to twins.’

William began jumping up and down. ‘Boys? Girls? One of each?’ he asked once he’d landed back on earth.

‘A little girl, six pounds three ounces – she was first out – and a boy, six pounds one ounce, followed, as I expect he’ll do for the rest of his life,’ said the nurse with a grin.

‘And Beth, how’s she doing?’

‘Follow me and you can see for yourself. But you’re not to stay for too long, Mr Warwick. Your wife is exhausted, and needs to rest.’

She led William into a ward where Beth was sitting up in bed, a baby cradled in each arm.

‘You’re late,’ she said.

‘And you’re early,’ said William.

‘Sorry about that. But in the end they were in rather a hurry to get out. They must take after you. This is Daddy,’ she said, looking adoringly at the twins, ‘who’s already missed the main event. He believes he was put on earth to save the world, a modern superman, which is the reason he also missed the second major decision in your lives.’

‘And what was that, superwoman?’ asked William, wrapping his arms around all three of them.

‘We’ve already had a serious discussion about names,’ said Beth, handing one of the babies to William.

‘And what names did the three of you decide in my absence?’

‘For your son, we settled on Peter Paul.’

‘Rubens,’ said William. ‘I approve. But will he be an artist or a diplomat?’

‘As long as he’s not a policeman, I don’t care.’

‘And his sister?’

‘Artemisia.’

‘Gentileschi? A genius, way ahead of her time.’

‘And more important, she had a father who acknowledged her talents, and encouraged her to use them. So beware.’

‘Hello, Artemisia,’ William whispered, stroking her nose.

‘Good try, but that’s Peter Paul, who’s keen to know if you’ve given any more thought to applying for the job at the Fitzmolean? Applications close at the end of the week, the director reminded me.’