The instructor had risen to his hands and knees, shaking his stunned and cut head, flicking spats of blood everywhere. When August left the armoury and locked the door behind him, the instructor was flat out again, this time for the count. Blood poured out of another nasty gash on the back of his head.
Turning away from the door without looking meant that August collided with a woman who was walking from the direction of the canteen, bearing a precariously balanced plate with a cream cake on top of a cup of coffee. The contents of both plate and cup went flying into the wall. The crockery smashed into little pieces.
‘ Godamnit!’ the woman shouted. ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re go-’ She then saw who had bumped into her. ‘You… you’re Dave August.’
August frowned at her and made to walk away. She wrenched him back to face her by his sleeve, yanking him to a standstill.
He brushed her hand off him, glowered angrily at her and said, ‘I’m in a hurry, if you don’t mind.’
‘ And I’m waiting for an interview with you.’
‘ And who might you be?’
‘ Lisa Want.’
‘ Oooh, the bitch who wrote that sleaze about me.’ August was in two minds whether or not to punch her very, very hard when he had another avenue of thought. His eyes narrowed. ‘How’d you like another exclusive?’
No hesitation. ‘Yes.’
‘ Come with me. Quick, quick. Haven’t got time to hang around.’
‘ What about this mess?’
‘ Leave it.’
He set off towards the garage at a fast pace. Lisa tagged on. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘ Just stay with me and you’ll see,’ he said.
In the garage he made straight for his official Jaguar. The keys were in the ignition, as always. He dropped into the driver’s seat and told Lisa to get in the other side.
The engine fired up beautifully. He accelerated out through the garage doors, round the one-way system, passed the HQ social club and bowling green, and seconds later he was out on the dual carriageway which ran by Headquarters.
‘ So what’s this about?’ she asked again.
‘ You got a tape-recorder?’
‘ Yep.’
‘ Well, put it on. I’ve got a story to tell: the downfall of a Chief Constable.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was a dreadful morning. Thick grey cloud had scurried in from the Irish Sea and settled low over the Lancashire coast. Rain swirled and danced like a menacing spirit in the twisting wind, heavy and very wet. Not a day to be caught out in.
Henry wrapped his hands around the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. Donaldson was sipping slowly but continuously from a mug of his own. Both men, deep in their own thoughts, were sitting in a cafe called Lantern o’er Lune, staring out at the small port of Glasson Dock in front of them.
Glasson Dock is situated on the mouth of the Lune estuary, a few miles downriver from Lancaster. In former days it acted as Lancaster’s port, but now most of its trade centred on pleasure boats.
All vessels coming in from the sea have to pass through the outer dock gates from the river into the main, deepwater anchorage. This is a manoeuvre which can only be carried out at high tide. Once inside, with the gates closed, they either tie up in the main dock to unload their cargoes, or in the case of pleasure boats, pass through a lock which lifts them to the level of the yacht basin. This process involves closing the main road in Glasson which actually passes over the lock. Once in the yacht basin — a large, square-shaped area of water with a marina in one corner — the boats either moor on the wall of the basin or in the marina itself.
Lenny Dakin owned a large sea-going motor-cruiser berthed at the marina. And if — a big IF — the information Henry had received was correct, he would be coming out to catch the tide; this meant that when he passed into the lock, he would be trapped for at least fifteen minutes.
But if Hinksman wasn’t aboard, there wasn’t much point in having him trapped.
Henry and Donaldson were wearing earpieces so they could listen to the radio transmissions from the various police officers who were hidden around the dock. Some were armed, but the main firearms team had been put on standby at a caravan site next to the road leading into Glasson, about a minute away from the dock.
So far they had been unable to say which boat belonged to Dakin. There were several good class cruisers and it could be anyone of them. They didn’t want to get in too close for a nosy just in case Dakin was spooked and the operation was spoiled.
Henry shook himself out of his reverie and consulted his watch.
‘ Not long before the tide turns,’ he commented. ‘If he doesn’t go out on this one, then we’ll be here another twelve hours. Makes me wonder if this is really going to happen.’
‘ It’s all we’ve got,’ said Donaldson.
‘ I feel so fucking useless just sitting here,’ Henry said bitterly. He wasn’t too far from tears. ‘If Kate’s injured or hurt or worse, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. I feel like cracking now.’
‘ Look, if this information is good,’ Donaldson tried to placate and motivate him, ‘this is the best place to be. He’ll turn up and we’ll grab him. I’m sure of it.’
Their earpieces crackled into life.
‘ Charlie Delta Two to control.’
‘ Charlie Delta Two, go ahead,’ came the voice of Karen in the communications room at Lancaster. She had taken over the helm with FB by her side.
Henry and Donaldson listened carefully. This was the voice of the officer hidden in a hedge near to the roadside entrance to the marina.
‘ Target One approaching site. Three on board. Repeat: Target One approaching site, three on board.’
‘ Yes!’ said Henry triumphantly, clenching a fist.
This meant that Dakin had arrived at the marina in his Bentley with two other persons.
There was silence on the airwaves for another two minutes. Then: ‘Charlie Delta Six to control.’ This officer had an elevated view of the marina from binoculars on a hillside.
‘ Go ahead.’
‘ Confirm Target One on site in company with two others, both male
… cannot ID them but fairly sure not Target Two, repeat NOT Target Two.’
‘ Damn,’ said Henry. This meant that Hinksman wasn’t either of the two others.
‘ Don’t worry,’ Donaldson said. ‘He’ll come.’
‘ Charlie Delta Six — all three men have left the vehicle parked up and have climbed on board a motor-cruiser. Can’t see the name. Now all out of sight.’
Karen acknowledged him. The radio went silent again.
Dakin was on board.
Henry rubbed his temples with the base of his thumbs. ‘This is doing my head in.’
‘ Mine too,’ Donaldson confessed ruefully.
Five minutes of radio silence passed. The weather seemed to worsen. Rain started to drive down.
‘ Charlie Delta Six to control.’ He sounded quite excited. ‘A motor-cruiser has moved off from the marina and is headed towards the lock.’
Instinctively Henry reached underneath his anorak and touched the butt of his revolver with his fingertips.
‘ Patrols are reminded to keep well out of sight of the incident area,’ Karen warned sternly over the air. ‘I repeat…’ This was a warning that everyone involved should keep well away from, and out of sight of, the lock — with the exception of Henry and Donaldson who were running the show.
