Backlash (39 page)

‘Maybe wait – when we find the other bodies they’ll need to be taken to the mortuary as well,’ Anna suggested.

‘There’s a second van on standby and judging by how long it’s taken you to find her I doubt we’ll be uncovering the others until . . .’ He looked at his wristwatch.
‘Christ, it’ll be getting dark soon. I’ve not got this whole circus for another day, you know. Why is it taking so long?’

Annoyed with him, she walked off without answering. If he’d seen what they had been up against all day he’d have bloody known.

Langton, still refusing to put on his rain cape, joined Mike, who was at the catering wagon ordering sandwiches and coffee. They had pulled out a canopy for shelter, but the rainwater was
flowing off the sides as if it was coming from a tap, creating an ever-deepening muddy puddle. Anna, who was with Barolli, could see that they were having a heated argument. Barolli pulled at his
cape as the rain was dripping down his neck.

Mike came over to report that Langton wanted the burial sites found today, so he could cut the number of officers at the quarry by half and the digging-out could be done the next day. Anna
remarked how Langton had already complained to her about the time they were taking. Mike was not happy.

‘I’d like to see him bloody climbing up and down those frigging rope ladders; it’s already very slippery and the rain’s getting worse.’

‘I doubt he’ll attempt a climb with his knee, but at least he’s now driving himself.’

‘It’s not him I’m worried about, it’s the guys doing the hard work on the ledge.’

Anna turned the binoculars onto the search team, who looked like black ants climbing up and onto the lower ledge. Some had already begun digging.

‘They got the sniffer dogs up there now,’ Mike told her, ‘but the handlers didn’t like it, they had to go round past the woods and miles on foot to the far side;
it’s just a small narrow path and crumbling fast.’

There was a lot of action, but no radio feedback that they had found anything. All they could do was stand and wait as the ground all around became like a bog. Anna sat in her car for a while to
warm up; her feet were freezing cold. She could see Mike pacing up and down, and Langton and Barolli sharing binoculars as they monitored the action on the ledge. Mike constantly had to fiddle with
his earpiece to get reception.

‘Mike,’ Langton called over, from where he was sheltering under the canopy. Mike sloshed through the puddles towards him.

‘What’s going on over there?’ Langton demanded.

‘They’re having no luck; it’s a big area. One of the dogs got excited but it was a dead animal. I think it’s becoming too dangerous up there with the weather, so
I’m thinking of calling them back.’

‘Get him out there. We’ll lose the light soon and it’s not going to be easy, arc lamps on or not. Get the pilot to do one more circle and to stand by with the searchlight;
it’ll help the team on the ledge to see what they’re doing.’

Although Mike felt Langton was wrong to continue the operation he said nothing. As the senior officer present it was now Langton’s decision alone whether or not to use Oates again. Langton
finally put on his rain cape and looked up to the cloud-darkened sky. In the distance they could see a flash of lightning, which was eventually followed by a low rumble as the sound waves travelled
across the grey sky.

‘Looks like that storm is heading our way,’ Mike said in an attempt to dissuade Langton from continuing the search. But Langton walked off, leaving Mike to signal to the armed
officers, who were sitting in their vehicle waiting for instructions.

‘Get him out!’ he shouted across to them.

Langton, back under the caterers’ canopy, watched as Oates was led to the edge of the quarry. He saw them remove his handcuffs and watched him clamber down, accompanied
by the armed guards, to the floor of the quarry.

Anna, who was by the winch vehicle, turned as Langton came to stand beside her and Barolli.

‘If my knee wasn’t shit I’d be down there. Look at the little prick.’

Oates was shadow-boxing again, dancing around the two armed guards, fooling around.

‘He’s bloody loving it, isn’t he?’

Anna nodded as they watched Oates climbing up to join the search teams on the ledge.

‘Athletic little sod, though, isn’t he?’ Langton said.

Mike had ordered the huge arc lamps to be moved into position, and their iron tripod stands sank deeply into the clay. They had four lamps altogether, spaced around the quarry,
each connected to the portable generator, ready to be switched on.

‘Is that ours?’ Langton looked up at the helicopter coming into view.

‘No it’s that News Flight one,’ Anna said. ‘It’s been in and out, hovering around us like a gnat.’

Langton snatched her binoculars, and swore loudly.

‘They got a fucking camera; they’re filming us. This was supposed to have been bloody sorted.’ He moved away, shouting into his mobile phone, heading for the cover of the
caterers’ canopy to protect his phone from the rain.

Oates could be seen moving amongst the search team. He bent down a couple of times and gestured for them to move further along the ledge. He repeatedly leaned forwards, staring
closely at the ground, and then straightened up, looking to his left and right along the ledge.

Anna passed the binoculars to Barolli.

‘You know, I think he’s stringing us along. He’s moving this way and that and it looks as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Maybe he never intended us to find the
other victims.’

Mike returned, by now very worried about the encroaching lightning and the safety of everyone on the ledge.

‘Might be lucky – Oates could fall off,’ Barolli said.

‘Christ, don’t say that, Paul.’

Anna pointed across the quarry.

‘You know what I don’t like – that narrow path the dogs were let loose on. I’m just concerned that all this could be Oates setting us up; he’s got no handcuffs on,
what if he did a runner? He said he knows this area like the back of his hand, maybe that was the way he got to that ledge because it’s a long way down from the first ledge and we’re
supposed to believe he carried the bodies.’

Mike sighed and said that even if Oates attempted to escape, with two armed guards he wouldn’t get far.

‘I’d like to blow his head off,’ Barolli said, stamping his feet.

There was another ominous low roll as the thunder got closer.
India 99
was again hovering above them, shining its Nitesun searchlight in the direction of the ledge, illuminating the area
like a floodlit football pitch. The noise was deafening as it echoed around the massive pit and the blades created a downdraught that even with the rain created a thick mist of chalk. The press
helicopter was hovering at a slightly higher altitude over the middle of the pit when suddenly it turned and moved off at high speed away from the quarry. At first they thought that air traffic
control had been onto them at last, but then the police helicopter radioed to say that they, like the press, had to clear the area and return to base due to the incoming weather.

Langton shouted to Mike as the lightning and thunder got even closer.

‘Get the arc lights lit and give it another half-hour.’

‘The helicopter’s been grounded because the weather is getting worse. It’s dangerous out there in the open with the lightning so I think we should call it a day,’ Mike
protested.

‘I make the decisions, Mike, it’s not on top of us yet. If they find anything we can dig it out fully tomorrow.’

The electricians started the portable generator, powering up the four huge arc lamps. One was focused towards the ledge and ladders, another shone down onto the base of the quarry and the two
others lit up the winch and rope ladders used at the operation base. They could see very clearly Oates and his armed guards preparing to make their way down from the ledge, while the officers still
on the ledge continued to dig.

It looked as if it was going to be a disappointing end to a long day when Mike received a radio message that set everyone alight. The dog handlers had been returning through the woods, following
the markers, and when they reached the point where Rebekka’s riding hat had been recovered one of the dogs had begun to react, barking and pawing at the ground. Mike went over to Langton.

‘I think the bastard lied to us – the dog handlers have found a spade and a garden pitchfork hidden in the woods. The dogs have also sniffed out a possible grave.’

There was another, louder rumble of thunder as Langton told Mike and Barolli to go over and secure the area for the search team. Mike would have been happy to seal the site and continue in the
morning but he could see no point in arguing with a very determined Langton.

‘This is madness,’ Anna said to Mike.

‘Well why don’t you try and make Langton see sense?’ Mike said and walked off.

Kumar, eager to find out what was happening, blew his car horn, flashing his lights as he wanted to pull out, but Langton’s car was parked across the rear of the BMW.

Oates made his way across the pit between the two armed guards, reaching the winch just as the search team were beginning their descent from the ledge. One of the armed
officers was winched out first, followed by Oates, and by the time he had reached the top the storm was directly overhead. The second armed officer had attached his harness and was slowly being
pulled up.

Just then the arc lamp that had its beam of light directed at the basin of the quarry began to wobble, as one foot of the heavy iron tripod holding it up had sunk, over-balancing the massive
heavy light. Almost in slow motion it toppled forwards, pulling taut the thick cables that linked all the lamps to the generator. The electricians were shouting and yelling for help to steady the
arc lamp, when it suddenly lurched downwards and slid over the edge, dragging the other lamps with it. The front lamp stopped briefly, swinging in the air like a moving spotlight, but before anyone
could react the cable to the generator gave way and the lamp began to tumble through the air, causing the search team below to scatter. The other lamps began to follow, the sound of the lights
popping and blowing hardly noticeable above the thunderstorm. The second armed officer was dangling from the winch as one of the tripod legs smashed into his head, knocking him unconscious.

In the mayhem it took only seconds: Oates, still uncuffed, punched the first armed officer with such force that it instantly broke his jaw and knocked him senseless to the ground. It gave Oates
enough time to take the officer’s gun, a 9mm Glock with a 17-round magazine. Screaming for everyone to back away from him, he started to pull the trigger repeatedly, and bullets sprayed the
air as he began to run while everyone ducked or hit the ground. Barolli, still at base, was in an unmarked patrol car waiting for the search adviser to join him when suddenly he saw Oates was
heading straight for him. He threw open the door and clipped Oates, who tumbled forwards then turned and kept on firing as Barolli got out of the car and moved towards him. There was no control
– he didn’t even aim the gun but just kept on firing round after round, the recoil sending the bullets flying everywhere.

Oates threw himself into Barolli’s car, and to everyone’s horror he drove forwards, churning up the ground as he pressed his foot flat down on the accelerator and the car hurtled
through the barrier and into the lane. No one could give instant pursuit as everyone was boxed in by a row of cars that belonged to the search team who were still down at the bottom of the
quarry.

In the shocked few moments that it took to register what had happened, it was Anna who realized that Paul Barolli still lay flat on the ground, his face in the mud. She immediately ran to him
and, panic-stricken, turned him over. Blood streamed from his mouth as he gasped for breath and she felt thick sticky blood on her hands, but couldn’t tell if he had a head or a chest wound.
Langton moved her aside as he cleared the area and another officer hurried across with a medical kit. Someone shouted for a stretcher and eventually Barolli was carried into the armoured police
wagon. It seemed horribly incongruous that he was taken to hospital in the same vehicle that had been used to transport Oates safely to the scene.

By the time anyone managed to call the incident in or set off in pursuit from the quarry, Oates had a good head start, and with no police helicopter in the air, due to the weather, he had an
even greater chance of a successful escape.

Anna was shaking as she asked how bad it was. Langton reported that Paul had taken bullets to his chest and abdomen, so it wasn’t looking good. Then to her anger he turned and began
barking out orders for the men to start taking action.

‘Start searching the fucking woods.’

Everyone looked at each other in confusion and a young officer spoke out.

‘We’ve only got torches, sir, all the arc lamps are at the bottom of the quarry and—’

‘Shut up and get moving.’

Mike was ashen-faced as Langton swore that they’d have Oates back within the hour, as there was no way he’d be able to get far. The important thing was they needed to finish up and
concentrate on the reason why they were all there.

‘Travis!’ he shouted, gesturing for her to get into the coach with the other officers. As they headed out towards the woods she saw through the window Langton having a real go at the
electricians, looking as if he was going to punch them. He was obviously angry. But she missed his final show of fury when Kumar, now in a state of shock, shouted at Langton for parking across his
BMW so that he was unable to get out. Langton picked him up by the lapels of his cashmere coat and threw him at his car. Yet the solicitor still thought to warn Langton that he had better control
himself. It was a mistake; Langton took hold of his lapels a second time and gave him a head butt so hard Kumar’s nose cracked.

‘Sorry, I slipped in the mud.’

He turned away and Kumar could feel his nose dripping blood. Terrified that he might get another whack, he announced he would report Langton for assault as he hurriedly got into his car,
shrinking back as Langton held the door so he couldn’t close it.