Actually Leaman had done a good job. The hat-bands could be forgiven. The men moved off in different directions.
‘Where’s Polehampton?’ Diamond asked, switching his anger to the main offender.
‘With Jack Gull, I believe. They went to the woods to liaise with the Wiltshire team.’
‘Did you know he ordered a stop on vehicles approaching Westwood?’
Leaman put his hand to his head. ‘He said something about surveillance.’
‘Since when was surveillance Mr. Plod with a torch in the middle of the road? I’m wondering if he’s sealed off all the other approaches. Can you reach him on your radio?’
All Leaman got was static.
‘Try Jack Gull, then.’
Supergull’s abrasive voice came on the line. ‘That you, Diamond, on the fucking scene at last?’
‘Yes, but no thanks to your deputy,’ Diamond said, and told him about the road block. ‘If he’s sealed off the village, we’re all wasting our time here.’
‘Sounds like a slight balls-up. Hold on.’
Good as it would have been to hear the exchange between Gull and Polehampton, Diamond had to imagine it.
Finally Gull came back on line. ‘No problem. All the stops have now been called off. A temporary measure to make sure we bussed all our men in without being overlooked. We’ve staked out the woods down here. No chance anyone can come or go without being observed. That’s if you and your men have control of the fucking village.’
‘Control is a strong word. We’re in place,’ Diamond said.
‘Where are you going to be?’
‘Me personally? Free range.’ He winked at John Leaman.
‘Keep in touch, then.’
‘Until I ask for radio silence,’ Diamond said, begging the question who was running this. ‘That’ll be necessary later.’ He switched off. No ‘over and out’ in case Gull wanted the last word.
He was starting to feel restored. Next, he wanted a look at the parked motorcycles. ‘Are they far off?’
‘Too far for you to walk,’ Leaman said.
‘Hop in the car, then.’
Guided by Leaman, he drove down to Lower Westwood. The two levels of the village had once been separated by fields, Leaman told him, but during World War II a small business called Royal Enfield manufacturing — of all things — motorcycles had been acquired for secret war work and almost a hundred extra bungalows were built for workers drafted in from the Midlands. More infill had taken place since and Upper and Lower were defined only by the two through roads north and south.
They toured the small streets in Diamond’s car. He decided the chance of the sniper owning any of the three bikes parked in Lower Westwood was small. It would be too much of a trek from Becky Addy Wood.
‘Do you think he’s in the area already?’ Leaman asked.
‘Could be, if he got in before Polehampton closed it down. My sense is that he’ll come early. He’ll want to do a recce before entering the wood.’
‘But you don’t think he’ll park the bike at this end?’
‘Unlikely. Now that I’ve seen the set-up, John, Upper Westwood definitely gives him the most options.’
‘He could be using a car this time.’
Diamond gazed at the long line of parked cars in a street called The Pastures. ‘Thanks for that. Cheers me up no end.’
‘A car would be less obvious, when we all know he used the bike before.’
‘I get the point. You don’t have to hammer it home.’
‘Let’s hope Jack Gull nabs him in the wood, eh?’
‘We can hope. How many men does Gull have?’
‘Fifty or more, plus the armed response team. They’re covering all the routes in.’
‘All the obvious routes in. I still think Westwood is the most likely.’
‘I don’t want to be pessimistic,’ Leaman said, ‘but this is a guy who surprised us once already.’
‘One thing is certain. He knows the wood.’
‘And you still think he’ll come for the gun?’
‘I do. It’s a balance of risks. In another full day of searching we’d probably find it. Forensics would extract enough information from that gun to lead us straight to him. He has to recover it fast, so he’ll take his chance tonight.’
They returned to Upper Westwood and Leaman showed him the fourth bike, a black Yamaha, parked off the road in a lane between two stone walls.
‘This is the best bet yet,’ Diamond said, trying to visualise the bike that had run him down. ‘Have you checked the registered owner?’ The Police National Computer came in useful sometimes, even he would admit.
‘Someone called Jones.’
‘Has it been used in the last hour?’
Leaman got out and put his hand tentatively close to the exhaust pipes. He shook his head.
‘We need a man observing.’
On cue, a constable bobbed his head above a drystone wall. He’d been crouching in somebody’s garden.
Diamond grinned. ‘Magic. But don’t do that if the sniper comes for the bike. He’ll blow your brains out.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘It wouldn’t be. Down again, lad.’
They parked the car in Chestnut Grove, a side street of bungalows. A cloud passed in front of the moon and darkness took over. ‘What do you make the time?’ he asked Leaman.
‘Just after one-fifteen.’
‘Hours yet. Where are you posting yourself?’
‘Opposite where you first saw us, near Upper Farm. There’s a place that gives some cover.’
‘I didn’t notice.’ He grinned. ‘No bad thing.’
‘It’s the way down to the stone quarry.’
‘Where we were in the wood today?’
‘Not the open cast bit. The underground workings.’
Diamond’s insides clenched. He should have remembered Westwood was well known for its stone mine.
‘It’s huge, I was told,’ Leaman said, heaping on the embarrassment without realising how personally Diamond was taking it. ‘It stretches right under where we’re standing and a long way beyond.’
‘I know.’
But he was unstoppable now he’d started. ‘The war work I told you about was done in the mine. The employees were on twelve-hour shifts and never saw daylight for days on end in the winter months. The government installed a room for sun-ray treatment so they could get their vitamin D.’
Diamond wasn’t listening.
‘Or is it E?’
No response.
‘I don’t think you heard a word I was saying,’ Leaman said in an injured tone.
‘I did. You’re on about the mine.’
Only a couple of years ago Diamond had pursued a suspect through the disused underground quarry at Combe Down. The workings had been a honeycomb. Leaman knew about this and still didn’t seem to appreciate the potential a mine had as a secret means of approach and escape.
Diamond said, more to himself than Leaman, ‘Why didn’t we notice this on the map in the incident room?’
‘Because maps only show you what’s on the surface.’
True. Prosaically, maddeningly true.
‘Is it secure?’
‘Metal doors, padlocks. You wouldn’t get in without a crowbar.’
‘I want to be sure of that. Come on.’
Leaman raked a hand through his hair. ‘Do you really want to go there, guv? It’s steep.’
