'Halfway to Lancashire, unfortunately, but we've turned them round and they're heading this way.'
'Good. Any idea which way the crook was heading?'
'He started up the hill, but he may have gone round the one-way system and left it in any direction.' I wondered if I'd obey the one-way signs after sticking up a bank. Probably.
'Okay. Jenny repeat to all units that under no circumstances are they to approach the target. Strictly locate, follow and observe.'
'Yes sir.'
'Tom have someone contact City and raise a firearms unit. Then let West Pennine know there may be some fast traffic coming their way. I'll try and organise the helicopter, before I ruin Mr. Wood's lunch.'
Molly was just about to put the Yorkshire puddings in. I took pity on him and told him we could manage, strictly on condition that the next time Molly made Yorkshires, I was invited.
We alerted adjoining forces and listened to the banter on the radios.
The sergeant knew the area better than a Buddhist monk knows his navel.
He instinctively read the mind of the fleeing man and directed the cars under his command accordingly. I tried to follow the action on the big map. The net was slowly tightening, but there were some frighteningly large holes in it. Gilbert walked in. I gave him an update on the action.
'Where's the nearest ARV?' he asked.
Jenny overheard the question. 'They're just coming off the M62, sir,' she replied.
'Sorry, Charlie, didn't mean to take over.'
'No problem. Have them stand by, Jenny, until we know where lad do heading. Do you want me to get out there, boss?'
'No, you handle it from here.'
Things went dead for a while. It looked as if he'd sneaked through the cordon. If he was heading for the motorway we might latch on to him in a few minutes, otherwise he'd be out of our patch and we'd have to rely on our neighbours. Then there was a sudden burst of static from the speaker.
'We've got him!' shouted an excited voice.
'Call sign and location? Let's have proper radio procedure, lads,' demanded the sergeant.
'It's Lima Tango,' someone yelled back. 'We're on Parkside. He's gone the other way. We nearly hit him on the bend. Doing a… bloody 'ell! … done a U-turn and pursuing.'
'Lima Tango… whereabouts on Parkside?'
'Near the park, skipper, heading south. The park's on our left. He's turning left on to the Parkway; we've lost sight of him.'
The sergeant pointed towards the map. 'He's either heading for the Meadowlands or he's making a break for the Bradford Road,' he suggested.
'Lima Tango to control. We've regained contact. On Parkway, heading out of town. Just passing B amp; Q. He's about two hundred yards ahead and we're gaining.'
'How fast's he going?' I asked.
'Control to Lima Tango. What is your speed?'
'About sixty.'
'Back off. Don't get any closer.'
'Zulu 99 airborne, Mr. Priest,' interrupted Jenny. 'Requesting directions.'
I spoke directly with the chopper pilot, giving him some very un aeronautic bearings. We got him there, though. Then we contacted City to see what units they had available and to tell them to switch to our channel.
'Zulu 99 to Heckley Control. We've made contact with target.'
'Control to Chopper; can you make a low pass in front of him; make sure he knows you're there?'
'Will do.'
I turned to Jenny. 'Then blast him with your missiles,' I whispered.
'He's turning right,' someone yelled over the radio.
'Meadowlands,' stated the sergeant. He relayed the information to the other units in the vicinity.
'They're getting excited,' I said to the sergeant. 'Tell them not to chase him, leave it to the chopper.'
He passed the message on. Some of the villains who lived on the Meadowlands estate liked to think it was a no-go area, and the newspapers eagerly promoted this view. It wasn't, though. The area was rife with crime, but it was the pain-in-the-arse variety, committed by fourteen-to-eighteen-year-olds. Boys in men's bodies, but not old enough to draw the dole. They burgled each other's houses, then probably went for a drink together. Everybody knew who the culprits were. Even the respectable people who were in the vast majority could name a string of villains, but a brick through a window, or the threat of a firebomb, discouraged any contact with us. Who could blame them?
The protection we could offer was negligible.
'Lima Sierra here. Approaching Meadowlands, where do you want us?'
'Don't know yet,' came back Lima Tango. 'Heading towards the big roundabout. Speed, nearly seventy.'
'Lima Sierra, this is Control. Get to the flats if you can, and wait.
Lima Tango, back off and leave it to the chopper. Understood?'
'Yes, skip,' said a relieved voice, 'backing off. He's turning right at the roundabout, heading towards the flats.'
I was standing at the end of the console, alongside the sergeant.
Gilbert was standing at the back, leaning on it and drumming his fingers. There was a burst of noise as everybody spoke at once.
'Repeat message,' ordered the sergeant.
'Lima Tango here. He's knocked a kid off a bike. Stopping to give assistance.'
'Zulu 99 here. I caught it on the video. Looks serious. Suggest you send for an ambulance, Control.'
'Will do. You stay with that, please, Lima Tango.'
'Understood.'
Gilbert thumped his fist into the palm of his other hand and walked over to the window.
'I'll do it,' I said. I had a quick look at the map to verify the street names, then rang the hospital.
'Zulu 99 to Control, he's heading for the right-hand block. Make that the southernmost block.'
'Did you read that, Lima Sierra?'
'Yes, understood. Heading that way now.'
I got straight through to Casualty, thank God.
'We can see him. He's seen us, doing a U-turn.'
'Follow him but don't give chase. Repeat, don't give chase.'
'Understood.'
A new voice came over the air: 'ARV Zulu Bravo to Control. On Heckley bypass. Any instructions?'
'Yes, Zulu Bravo. Turn on to Parkway, heading north. He may be heading back your way.'
'Firearms unit leaving city HQ' said Jenny.
Another couple of cars from adjacent forces radioed in to say they were in the area. It looked as if he were panicking. If he'd managed to run into the flats we'd have lost him. They were a twenty-storey warren, named in memory of Hugh Gaitskell, one-time leader and unifier of the Labour Party. Now they stood as a monument to a social plan that had gone badly astray. They had more windows made of plywood than glass, and glue-sniffers and graffiti artists followed their pastimes unhindered.
'Hello, Heckley Control, this is India Romeo, we're coming out of Westland Road on to Dobgate. He's just gone by the end, heading towards Dudley.'
'Okay, India Romeo. Follow, but don't chase. Understood?'
'Understood.'
'Zulu 99 to Control. He's turning on to the Heckley bypass. He must be doing about seventy.'
The bypass wasn't a purpose-built road. It was just a string of existing streets that had been linked together and given priority, to ease the rush-hour traffic flow. He wasn't going to get far at seventy miles per hour. The big question was would he kill anybody when the inevitable happened?
'He's crashed! This is the helicopter. He's just bounced off the side of a bus.'
'What's his status?'
