exploited it.
When August’s secretary Jean came in, he realised, much to his surprise, that it was 8 a.m. He was still sat there in the uniform he’d been wearing for the last twenty-four hours. He needed a shave and a shower.
Jean had a worried look on her face.
She walked across to August’s desk and placed a newspaper on top of what he was reading.
‘ I think you should see this, sir,’ she said without a smile. ‘And there’s a journalist outside asking to see you, an American called Lisa Want.’ She spun round and left.
August frowned. This was not a newspaper he had ever read or would ever consider reading. It was complete trash.
Then the headlines hit him.
Chief Constable In Sex-And-Drug Orgy With Hooker!
‘ Oh my God,’ he groaned.
A grainy colour photograph on the front page showed him facing the camera, standing naked with a woman kneeling in front of him. Her face and breasts, his privates and buttocks had been blacked out with a thick line, but the ecstasy on his face was horribly clear. It was a still taken from the video.
The article accompanying it was written by Lisa Want — again on ‘special assignment’. Readers were invited to turn to the centre pages for more sensational photographs and a transcript of the soundtrack.
With a heartbeat increased to epic proportions and a quivering hand to match, Dave August did just that. His world, which was crumbling away, began to avalanche down a precipitous mountainside.
And there would be more to come.
He looked out of his window towards the sports field. The day was overcast, clouds grey. Big spats of rain slapped loudly onto the panes.
The phone started to ring.
Both Henry Christie and Karl Donaldson received phone calls after the briefing which unsettled them. They were summoned down to the communications room on the floor below the gym and took their calls at the same time, but from different extensions.
Karen, standing in a position between the two, watched their reactions to whatever the news was.
‘ Daddy?’
Henry immediately recognised his eldest daughter’s voice and the strained tone which accompanied even that single word.
‘ Hi Jenny, what’s the matter, sweetheart?’
‘ I don’t know, Daddy.’
He could hear fear in her voice.
‘ What d’you mean, you don’t know?’ he asked, keeping his own voice purposely light. He sensed something catastrophic was wrong. It wasn’t like Jenny to phone him at all; she usually tagged onto Leanne’s calls.
‘ We got up this morning and… oh, Dad! Mum’s not here! She’s gone. We don’t know what to do.’
Henry felt something heavy drop in his stomach.
Meanwhile, in the same room, not six feet away, Donaldson was taking a transatlantic phone call.
‘ Just letting’ ya know outta courtesy, Karl,’ the faint voice 3,000 miles away at the other end of the line was saying. It was one of Donaldson’s former partners, still a good friend.
‘ Speak up a little, Jack. Can hardly hear ya.’
‘ Bad news, pal, bad news. It’s about Joe Kovaks… ‘
Henry and Donaldson hung up simultaneously. Each ran a hand over his own face.
‘ I can’t believe this,’ said Donaldson. ‘Joe’s gone missing. Last seen leaving the office ten a.m. yesterday, not called in since. Bucar’s gone too. Not like him, not like him at all. Chrissy hasn’t seen him. I know he’s a maverick, but he ain’t stupid. Don’t like it.’
Karen laid a worried hand on the back of his head.
Henry, stunned, said simply, ‘I think Hinksman’s got my wife.’ He closed his eyes, dropped his head and began to pray.
A light flashed on the switchboard. One of the comms operators answered the call.
‘ DS Christie? Call for you.’
FB burst brusquely into the communications room. ‘I’ve just brought the Chief Constable up to date with what’s happening and where this thing’s going. He didn’t half sound strange-’ He stopped midsentence and looked at the serious faces of everyone in the room. Karen put a finger to her lips.
All attention was focused on Henry who picked up the phone and slowly put it to his ear.
‘ Henry, you’re one hell of a lucky son of a bitch. That bomb was meant for you, but no doubt you know that.’
‘ It’s a conclusion I reached,’ said Henry stonily, immediately recognising the voice of Hinksman.
‘ An’ I’m real sorry about the kid because I don’t like killing innocent people unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s so unprofessional. ‘
‘ So how guilty was the prostitute in Blackpool?’
‘ Hey, some detective! I’m impressed you know about her.’ Hinksman’s voice went hard, making the hairs creep on Henry’s scalp. ‘She stole from me. She lost her status of innocence. Rather like you, Henry, when you turned my money down, then when you shot me.’
‘ And how guilty is my wife?’ whispered Henry, feeling the nausea grip his lower abdomen like a clawed hand.
Hinksman gave a short laugh. ‘She’s actually very innocent. I’ve told her it’s nothing personal, but I need to use her. What surprises me is that you didn’t take more steps to protect your family. You ain’t even got a burglar alarm on your house. I as good as let myself in — not even a dog, for Christ’s sake. And all those goodies to protect — TV, hi-fi, microwave — and those two lovely daughters.’
Hinksman allowed the words to sink into Henry’s consciousness.
‘ Had a look in at that older one, he said airily. ‘Developing a real nice pair of titties. Might come back one day and rape the fuck out of her — just to make you suffer again. Because that’s what all this is about, making you suffer for what you did to me.’ His voice grew thick. ‘I wanted to kill you face to face. I was waiting for you the other night, but I chose the hooker instead… ‘
‘ Then let’s meet,’ Henry cut in desperately. ‘Let Kate go and I give you my word, just you and me.’
‘ Love to say yes — but no can do. I’m out of here — once I’ve finished with Mrs C, that is.’ He laughed uproariously. ‘So, unfortunately I’m going to have to make you suffer by proxy. Oh, and forget about tracing the phone — I’m on a mobile. Goodbye Henry. Missing you already.’
‘ Don’t hang up,’ screamed Henry. ‘Hinksman!’ The line was dead.
‘ I told you to hold all calls, you stupid bitch. I don’t want interrupting,’ Dave August snapped down the line to his secretary. He was trapped in his office and it was getting smaller and smaller. The walls seemed to be sliding towards him like some sort of medieval torture chamber. He half-expected sharpened spears of steel to appear.
‘ Mr August,’ Jean remonstrated. ‘I’m doing my best. I felt I should let you know that the HMI has been on, as well as the Head of the Police Committee, as well as numerous others… and there are two gentlemen here to see you.’
‘ Tell them to fuck off.’ He was sweating profusely. ‘Is that bitch of a reporter still there?’
‘ Yes, out in Reception together with several others and the TV.’
‘ Tell them all to fuck off, or I’ll have them thrown out.’
‘ Mr August, I can’t do that,’ she said desperately. ‘I’m struggling out here to be as polite to everyone as I can. I’m trying to protect you so you can pull yourself together, yet all I hear from you are senseless, obscene instructions which are impossible to carry out. Mr August, I am very close to tears.’
Not as close as I am, he thought. He capitulated. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. My mind’s in a bit of a mess at the moment as you can probably appreciate.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Who are the gentlemen you refer to?
