By a Narrow Majority (11 page)

So, she was the last to arrive. More demerits with the new super? It was hard to tell with Raleigh. He never seemed to show either approval or disapproval of her. It was
disconcerting
, to say the least.

‘They’re all in the kitchen.’ The man who’d beckoned her into the barn appeared at her car door the moment she opened it, and hissed into the darkness.

She wondered what the farmer was making of it all. Was he excited, or scared? No member of the criminal fraternity would ever have even given a passing thought to helping the police nail Luke Fletcher. But an honest farmer was a different proposition altogether. It made Hillary uneasy as she walked to the farmhouse and tapped quietly on the door. She only hoped nothing bad would touch this family, or this home, tonight.

Sometimes, the weight of being a copper seemed to land on her from a great height. Sometimes, she thought about a million pounds sitting in a Caribbean bank account, and thought about retiring to the sun. About never having to worry about someone else’s safety again.

The door was opened, and Mel gestured her inside. The farmhouse kitchen was warm, smelt of stew, and was full of people. Mike Regis was there, although she hadn’t seen his car in the barn, and he looked across at her the moment she walked in. Like her, he was dressed in his darkest, oldest clothing. His green eyes watched her move across the room, then he turned back and resumed his conversation with Colin Tanner, the man who’d been his sergeant for years.

Superintendent Raleigh nodded at her, but remained in one corner, a radio clamped firmly to his ear. Obviously, the TFI were already at stage A, and were closing in quietly on the target.

‘Make sure you’re loaded up with flat-nosed ammo,’ she heard Raleigh say into the mike, and felt a chill go down her spine.

Flat-nosed bullets were often used by the police because there was less chance of a flat-nosed bullet going straight through a body and killing someone else behind the target. It brought home to her, more than anything else, the seriousness of the situation.

She saw Tommy frown, and wondered if he’d caught her shivering like a terrified whippet. She turned away from the quiet, tense atmosphere and glanced outside. Brian Doyle was
nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, none of the Doyle family was present. Perhaps the wife and kids were holed up in the living room watching
Emmerdale
and pretending that none of this was happening.

She hoped so.

Although none of the ‘regular’ coppers in this room would be going in until the Tactical Firearms Unit gave the all-clear, you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.

Tommy appeared at her elbow, a big, quiet, calm presence. ‘Guv, you really think we’re going to nail Fletcher tonight?’ he whispered.

Hillary shrugged. Nailing Fletcher was everybody’s fantasy. The untouchable, murderous, drug-dealing scumbag who lived high on the hog right under their noses. They’d tried to get him before, and always failed. But this time?

‘Who knows,’ Hillary whispered back. ‘If Fletcher is there. If the drug shipment arrives. If Fletcher’s caught red-handed. If the paperwork’s in order. If someone doesn’t bribe the judge, if the stool pigeon testifies and doesn’t end up dead in the canal.… Hell, Tommy, your guess is as good as mine.’

The drugs might never arrive, and then everyone would stand down and go home, sick with a sense of anti-climax.

After nearly twenty years in this game, Hillary wouldn’t have bet a penny on the outcome either way.

It was nearly two hours before it was confirmed that the drugs shipment had arrived. Or at least, that the three-man team their source
said
would be carrying the new drug Squaddie, had arrived.

According to Raleigh’s supergrass, the three-man team was from up Liverpool way, anxious to sell their wares down south. They were doing an ‘introductory’ deal with Fletcher, who should, right now, be holding 100,000 quid in ready cash in his hot and greedy little hand.

She glanced at the clock, as Raleigh, over in the corner, listened intently, the radio seemingly glued to his ear. Every
now and then he’d speak, giving a running commentary to the deathly silent room, as relayed by one of their lookouts.

‘The car’s pulled into the outside rear barn.’ Raleigh sounded tense but controlled. ‘Two have entered the premises – the third has stayed with the car.’

Hillary, like the rest of them, was following the action intently, and thinking it through as and when the information came in. Someone staying with the car was a complication. It meant the TFI would have to send a two-man unit in to neutralize the car driver.

They’d also have to start ‘mopping’ up the outer perimeter too, in one smoothly co-ordinated effort, before anybody moved in on the farmhouse proper. Nobody wanted to get caught in crossfire, and Fletcher was bound to have lookouts scattered throughout the farmyard and surrounding area.

‘Direction microphones are picking up voices. Being recorded.’ Again Raleigh spoke, again everyone listened. Janine began to pace, then stopped.

Still, everyone waited, everyone imagining what was going on at the site. Fletcher’s chemist would be testing the drugs for sure. Would they have a guinea pig, a volunteer, who would take a sample and see how high it got them? Fletcher would have no shortage of volunteers. He liked to keep some of his dealers hooked. Not all. Just some.

‘The team leader has given the go-ahead for stage B.’

Hillary tensed. That was the point of no return. Stage B called for the TFI to simultaneously move in on the targets patrolling the outer perimeter. They’d have been in position for hours, pinpointing the lookouts and guards. ‘They have a go,’ Raleigh added simply, for the first time lowering the radio and looking at the others. ‘Let’s get to Checkpoint Charlie.’

The order acted as a safety valve, with everyone moving, letting out pent-up breaths, and glad to have positive action at last.

As Raleigh walked outside ahead of everyone else, Hillary
saw him reach into his pocket for his mobile phone. He must have pressed speed dial, for he only pressed one button. As he disappeared into the dark of the farmyard, she saw him put the phone to his ear, but he spoke so quietly, she couldn’t hear what he said. Then she forgot about it in the co-ordinated rush to get moving.

Checkpoint Charlie was the first position near Fletcher’s farm where the unarmed team were to congregate. Far enough away from any possible gunfire to be deemed safe, it was also close enough to satisfy Raleigh and the rest of the brass that they were in a prime position to move when the TFI gave the all-clear.

It had all been mapped out before who would go with who. Hillary and Tommy followed Regis and Tanner, who’d parked their car behind the barn, not in it, and piled into the back seat. Mel, Raleigh, Ross and Janine went in Raleigh’s saloon. The two cars left, Raleigh’s leading, and headed into the darkness of the cold March night.

They drove down a narrow lane, with bare-branched trees crowding in on them on either side. For a moment, the eyes of a deer, two blank yellow disks, showed up between the tree trunks, then was gone. Hillary tried to breathe normally, but it wasn’t easy. She could feel adrenaline bubbling through her veins, making her want to fidget in her seat, and knew it would be the same for the others.

Even with the car windows shut, Hillary distinctly heard the first burst of gunfire. The sounds were flat, hard, and alien, and beside her she felt Tommy flinch.

‘Didn’t think they’d surrender without a fight,’ Mike Regis said flatly from the front passenger seat.

As if to confirm it, a second barrage of gunfire ricocheted through the night.

At Checkpoint Charlie, they pulled in off the road and doused the lights. The entrance to Fletcher’s so-called farm lay just a few yards off up to the right. All was now quiet.

‘What’s going on?’ Regis said, the moment Raleigh got out of his car. ‘Is anybody down?’

The superintendent held up a hand, as ever, the radio glued to his ear. ‘They went in a few moments ago,’ Raleigh said.

‘We know, we heard,’ Regis responded grimly, making Hillary wonder if he had wanted to go in with them. Frank Ross lit up a cigarette, and she saw Colin Tanner peel off to intercept him. A moment later, she saw the cigarette end glow and arch in the darkness as Ross threw it away.

‘We’re moving up to Checkpoint Romeo,’ Raleigh said without warning, and suddenly they were all headed into the cars again.

‘Isn’t it a bit early to be going in?’ Hillary said to Regis sharply. Checkpoint Romeo was just off the entrance to the farmyard proper. She hadn’t expected them to get so close for a good half an hour yet. Didn’t the Tactical Firearms Unit prefer to do several sweeps before calling in their unarmed colleagues? Had the plan been changed at the last minute? Had the super heard something on the radio that altered everything?

‘I dunno,’ Regis muttered, but his eyes met hers in the mirror. He looked calm enough, but Hillary got the feeling he was as surprised as she was to get the go-ahead so soon. And, like her, didn’t like it.

They were driving fairly fast up a rough tarmac road, and now, just up ahead, the lights from Fletcher’s farm spilled out on to the ground. They pulled up just outside a traditional five-bar iron gate. The farmhouse had light coming out of almost every window. It was a large, square, rundown building, with paintwork peeling off the doors and window frames. Off to one side was a series of disused barns.

As she climbed out, in one of the barns, she could see two men in Kevlar standing either side of a man dressed in jeans and leather jacket. He was clearly not happy. Her breath feathered white and ghostly in the frosty air as she glanced further along. In another barn, several more handcuffed
suspects were being guarded by three more men in Kevlar. All were carrying the regulation-issue .38 handguns that the TFI preferred. So all the scouts and lookouts had been accounted for. The gunfire must have come from the farmhouse itself, when the main strike force went in.

She knew ambulances were standing by just off the main road, ready to be called in if needed. She only hoped no copper had got shot tonight.

The light spilling from the open doorway suddenly dimmed, and Hillary instinctively crouched down behind the car. But the figure that emerged was wearing Kevlar and she slowly straightened up again. She felt no shame at her reaction. Janine, however, gave her a rather sneering look.

Hillary felt too tired to give her a lesson in real life. Perhaps if someone had been shot inside, then Janine might learn something. Being called to a murder and looking at a corpse was not the same thing as having to look at blood and guts that had just been spilt, or smell the cordite, or listen to pitiful moaning as some poor sod who wondered whether or not he’d live to see morning, called pitifully for his mother.

The man in the doorway paused, as if surprised to see the two cars parked outside the gate. He spoke rapidly into the radio strapped to his chest as Raleigh began to walk forward with Frank Ross, of all people, by his side. Hillary was so surprised you could have knocked her down with a feather.

She could understand why Raleigh would be mad keen to get in on the act – this was, after all, his show – but she’d have bet her last pair of tights that Frank was too careful of his own skin to be one of the first inside.

The others, taking their cue from Raleigh, began to follow, Regis trotting to catch up. At the door, the member of the firearms unit was already holding up a hand to halt them. Behind him, the team leader suddenly appeared. At least, Hillary assumed it was the team leader, for he spoke hard and fast, and with obvious authority. He didn’t seem to like it they were here.

Had Raleigh called them in without waiting for the
go-ahead?
Hillary gave a mental head-shake. How arrogant, not to mention bloody stupid, could you get?

She knew how hot Raleigh was to nail Fletcher, but this was sheer stupidity. And if true, she thought it highly likely that, before long, Raleigh would find himself up before a disciplinary board.

She slowed down her pace, not wanting to get caught up in it, and glanced across at Mel, who was also frowning. Tommy, sensing something in the air, also slowed to a stop and looked back at them, as if looking for orders. Only Janine kept going.

Raleigh and the armed cops in the doorway talked for a while, or rather argued, and then Raleigh and Frank Ross stepped inside. Mel stepped forward, as did Regis. Hillary heard another muttered and hot argument, and walked slowly back towards the gate. Whatever was going down here, she’d rather let them all get on with it. They didn’t need her, sticking her oar in.

Instead, she glanced around, getting a feel for the lay of the land.

The car the three drug dealers had arrived in was a large Japanese model, and was parked neatly and tightly into one corner. Three other cars, supposedly belonging to Fletcher’s gang, were parked in the last of the ramshackle sheds. Light continued to spill out on to the dirty cobbles and the
weed-strewn
courtyard. Inside, everything was quiet.

After a few minutes, Mel finally walked over to join her. Regis and Tanner remained by the doorway talking animatedly to the TFI member guarding the door. Janine stood off to one side, impatiently shifting from foot to foot, anger coming off her in waves. She was desperate to get in there and see what they’d scored. Had
she
ever been that keen? Hillary wondered. And concluded, with a small sad smile that, yes, she probably had. In fact, if she was Janine, she’d probably be harbouring fantasies of putting the cuffs on Fletcher herself.

After a while, men in Kevlar started coming out. In the quiet night, she heard one of them call for the ambulance to come to the gate at the bottom of the property and her heart fell. She knew what that meant. There was no hurry. Someone (or more than one) was dead, and simply needed a ride to the mortuary. By the way the TFI man spoke, it wasn’t one of their own.

For the first time, Hillary wondered if Fletcher himself could be dead. She was just wondering how she felt about that, when gunfire suddenly exploded inside. There was a frozen moment of disbelief, and then suddenly everyone was running back inside – the men in Kevlar, Regis, Tanner and Janine.