not a bomb, walk up to it, shake it and boom! You’re blown to bits.’
The young officer shook his head, unwilling to admit a mistake. ‘The fact is, it wasn’t a bomb. It was a hoax — the second of the night, I might add.’
‘ Mmm,’ Danny muttered dubiously. She selected first gear with difficulty — the synchromesh had all but evaporated — and moved off. At least Rupert was right about one thing: there had been two well-executed hoaxes that night. Most hoaxes were perpetrated by stupid kids: tonight’s bore the mark of the adult. Danny was already beginning to wonder if there was a link. If another hoax came in, the possibility had to be seriously considered and investigated.
It had gone past 1 a.m. Danny and Rupert should have been in for their refreshments at one, so she was meandering slowly back to the station, not really anticipating with relish the tuna paste sandwiches that awaited her there. She was starving and would devour them, but she knew they would give her serious indigestion for the rest of the night.
The entrance to the police station car park on Northgate, Blackburn, was a throwback to days gone by when vehicles were narrow and tall and few in number. Though Danny was only driving a Metro, she was slow and cautious as she drove under the stone archway, down the cobbled incline, past the Custody Office door on her right, then up the asphalt slope into the car park proper.
As she peered round for a space, she thought she saw a dark shape flit between two police cars over in one corner of the car park. But she couldn’t be sure, her tired eyes might be playing tricks. Anything was possible on this, her fifth out of seven straight night shifts. She was aiming her car for a tight spot between her own private car — a battered Renault 12 — and someone else’s private car, when the first explosion came and she found herself thrown across Rupert’s knees.
Right in the corner of the car park, a police Montego had erupted in a ball of flame. A black mushroom cloud of dense smoke rose away into the clear night sky.
‘ Fuck!’Danny grimaced, trying to shake some sense into her dazed head. But before she could get a grip, the next car along exploded too. It was a Ford Granada traffic car.
Still dazed, Danny got out of the Metro, stunned by what she had experienced. Then her training clicked in.
‘ Two police cars exploded in the rear yard.’ she said calmly down her radio to Comms — who must have gathered something had happened as they were only a matter of yards away on the ground floor of the station. ‘Fire Brigade, please,’ she went on coolly. Then: ‘I think the offender could still be here. I saw a dark shape dodge between two cars when I pulled in. I need some assistance — and a dog, please.’ She swivelled round to Rupert who was standing catatonic behind her and bellowed: ‘Go up to the entrance and keep it covered. Make sure no one leaves.’ Then, when he just stood there, swaying slightly, she yelled, ‘Go on! We can catch this bastard.’
Just then the third vehicle along exploded, propelling Danny and Rupert across the car park with the force of the blast.
Scrabbling the debris and bricks away from their hands, they finally broke through into the Building Society, to reveal the back of the safe. It was four feet high, three feet across. Crane knew it was secured to the floor by massive bolts and there was no time to try to free it. It was far too heavy for three men. Six would have struggled.
It had to be dealt with in situ.
Crane edged his way through the narrow gap and crouched in front of the safe. He knew he had the freedom to move around inside the premises as only the outer doors and windows were alarmed. Just to make extra sure, though, he had ensured that the alarm box outside had been filled with quick setting foam.
It was a one-key safe, not a combination lock, which made the next part of the job easy to administer. He pulled off his outer gloves and removed the blob of plastic explosive from his pocket. He thumbed as much of it as he could into the lock and inserted a detonator into it which resembled a length of pipe cleaner. He then packed the remainder of the PE around the lock.
The two other men watched him nervously.
Eventually he looked up at them. ‘Sorted,’ he said confidently. Before doing anything else, they enlarged the hole in the wall behind the safe so their getaway would be smoother. When this was done, Crane returned to the safe alone. The other two remained hidden behind the counter in the insurance broker’s next door.
Crane snapped the end off the detonator, activating it. Hands over ears, he rolled through the hole and joined his colleagues.
Danny recovered quickly. It had been like being blown over by a hurricane. She had landed on her side and rolled over and over until the energy of the blast within her dissipated.
‘ Third car gone up,’ she said crisply into the radio. ‘I’m sure he’s still in here.’
Two police cars raced into the yard. Officers began to emerge from the police station itself. Danny looked around for Rupert, who was now on his hands and knees, chin drooping down on to his chest, completely winded.
‘ Rupert — seal the car park,’ Danny screamed at him, urging him into action. He set off like a 100-metre sprinter. Then her eyes roved the car park, trying to focus properly even though the explosions had momentarily blinded her.
The car park was fairly small and enclosed on three sides by the high walls of neighbouring buildings, on the fourth side by the police station itself. There was literally only one way out through the main entrance. Danny knew that unless the man in the shadows had somehow managed to leg it during the confused seconds following the third explosion, he was trapped. Famous last thoughts… yet she felt very confident of capturing him.
‘ Come on, pull back,’ she told everyone forcefully. ‘Let’s wait for the dog — and let’s keep well away from the cars. We don’t know if another one is going to blow or not.’
As she spoke, the dog patrol van accelerated into the yard.
The whole building shook as the PE detonated.
Crane, now wearing goggles and an industrial dust mask over his Balaclava, darted through the opening, fanning away the smoke, trying to see what the damage was.
‘ Yes, fucking brilliant!’ he shouted as the safe’s interior was revealed. The perfect blow. Completely destroying the lock but not the contents, other than singeing a few notes.
He yanked the red-hot door open, reached inside and grabbed a wodge of notes which he threw into the black bin-liner one of his team was now holding open next to him.
There was at least sixty grand. But he didn’t stop to count it.
Time was now of the essence.
They had to get out — quick.
The voice which came over the radio was cool and in control. ‘They’re emptying the safe now.’ It was the relaxed tone of a Detective Inspector from the Regional Crime Squad by the name of Barney Gillrow. Throughout the whole of the job he had relayed a smooth commentary across the airwaves of the dedicated, encrypted radio channel which was being used for the operation. It was a channel which normal police radios could not pick up and the cops who were running around Blackburn that night had no idea that any sort of operation was on: pretty standard practice for the RCS, who rarely told the locals what they were up to. A policy which had ruffled many a feather on many an occasion.
Gillrow was secreted in the first-floor storeroom of the greengrocer’s shop on the other side of the Halifax Building Society. Surrounded by boxes of carrots and apples, he had been watching the progress of Crane’s break-in through miniature cameras fitted by Technical Services; one had been rigged up in the insurance broker’s, one in the Building Society. The cameras relayed the images on to two monitors set up in the storeroom, giving him a clear black-and-white picture.
Gillrow had kept every officer on the operation — which included a mixture of RCS personnel, a firearms team and other armed officers — fully informed of the progress.
‘ They’ll be out in a matter of seconds. Get into position, everyone,’ he said, controlling his excitement.
The trap was about to be sprung.
