not for publication at this stage.”
Lane nodded. Nothing linking the armed man with any other of fences could be printed as it could prejudice the chances of a fair trial. “Who are the hostages?”
“Mrs. Mary Bright, thirty-four, separated from her husband, and her two children, Bobby, seven, and Scott, eight.” Allen looked over Lane’s shoulder to Collier, still holding the phone tightly to his ear. “We’ve got a direct line through to the house. It’s ringing, but he won’t answer. I’ll try the loud hailer again in a minute.”
Allen squinted as car headlights hit his face and another car pulled up. Parley Street was starting to look like a public car park. He was about to yell for it to be moved on when he saw Mullett climbing out.
Mullett marched briskly over. He nodded to Allen, then raised an inquiring eyebrow at the reporter.
“Mr. Lane, chief reporter, Demon Echo,” Allen told him.
Mullett clicked on his professional smile. “Mullett two Ts and two ‘t’s Superintendent Mullett, Commander of Demon Division.” While the reporter was writing that down he asked, “How do you intend to play this, Inspector?”
“As long as the hostages are in no danger, sir, we’re prepared to sit tight and hang it out. We hope to commence a dialogue with Eustace soon, when I’ll try and get him to release the children. Our aim is for a peaceful conclusion.” Allen said this loudly for the reporter’s benefit and was pleased to see his words being taken down verbatim.
“It might be better,” Mullett told the reporter, ‘if you put that down as if I had said it. It’s my directive, and Mr. Allen is acting in accordance with it.” Allen fumed inwardly.
“He’s still not answering the phone, Inspector,” said Collier, whose ear was starting to ache.
“Quiet everyone,” called Allen. “I’m going to try and make contact.” He thumbed the switch and raised the loud hailer to his mouth. His amplified, metallic voice reverberated over the back gardens. “Eustace. This is Detective Inspector Allen. I’d like to talk to you.”
From his vantage point in the opposite house, Ingram, squinting through the telescopic sight, saw movement inside the room. He clicked on his radio and reported to Allen. “He’s coming to the window, sir.”
A terrified woman was pushed to the window. She turned her head away from the blinding glare of the lights. Eustace was well behind her, his arm crooking her neck, the shotgun in his free hand. Ingram shifted the sight slightly to the left and the crosspiece was dead centre of Eustace’s forehead. “There’s enough showing, sir. I think I can get him.”
“No, Sergeant,” snapped Allen. “There will be no shooting. Confirm.”
“Confirmed, sir. No shooting.” Ingram sounded disappointed.
“Listen to me,” shouted Eustace in the darkness, his voice shaking. “I’m only going to say this once. You’ve got thirty minutes. I want a car with a full tank, I want it left outside, then you all piss off.”
“Release the woman and the kids, Stan, then we can talk about it.”
“No. They come with me. You’ve got thirty minutes.”
Allen took a chance. He raised the loud hailer to his mouth and, as he talked, started to walk toward the house. He wanted to be able to talk without shouting. The loud hailer was forming a barrier between them. “Do you want any food, Stan? We can have it sent in. In fact…” A shot blasted out and pellets splattered high on the far wall. The woman screamed. The children inside the room started crying.
“No farther, Mr. Allen. I’m cornered and I’m desperate and I’ve got nothing to lose. Just get me the car and stop ringing that bloody phone.”
Allen retreated back to his old position. “Cut the phone,” he ordered.
The woman was dragged away from the window.
“What do you think?” Mullett asked.
Allen scratched his head. “I don’t know, sir. My every instinct tells me to rush him. I’m sure he won’t harm the woman or the kids.”
“He’d use the gun,” said Mullett. “If not on the hostages, then on our men, and I’m not having anyone hurt. We’ll sweat it out. Time is on our side. Hello, who is this?”
A patrol car skidded up. PC Kenny and a woman got out.
“It’s Sadie Eustace, Stan’s wife. I’m hoping she can talk some sense into her old man.”
Sadie, an old coat flung hastily over a blue dress, almost ran over to Allen, her eyes crackling with anger at the sight of the armed men and the press and the spotlights. “What are you bastards doing to him?”
“Now take it easy, Sadie,” soothed Allen. “He’s got a gun and he’s taken hostages.”
Sadie turned her back on Allen and appealed directly to Mullett. “I’ll get him out. Let me go in there and talk to him.”
Mullett looked over her shoulder to Allen, who firmly shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” said Mullett. “I can’t let you go in there.”
“Why not? He won’t harm me. I’m his wife.”
“The point is, Sadie,” said Allen, ‘you might try to help him.”
She spun around to face him.” For Pete’s-bloody-sake! I want to help him. That’s the whole point of the exercise.”
Allen smiled his thin smile. “You might try and help him get away, Sadie. If you were with him, he’d have an extra hostage, extra bargaining… and you’d be a hostage we could never be sure was on our side.”
“You’ve got to trust someone, Inspector.”
“Forgive me, Sadie, if I can’t trust you. You can talk to him on the phone if you like. We’ve got a direct line through. Try and persuade him to release the hostages and then come out with his hands up.”
She nodded her agreement. Allen clicked on the loud hailer. “Stan. Go down to the phone. Sadie’s here. She wants to talk to you.” Stan’s voice shouted out into the darkness. “Are you really there, Sadie?”
“Yes, Stan,” she shouted back. “I want to talk.”
She took the phone and waited for her husband to go down the stairs with the hostages. Allen stepped back, and when he was well out of earshot he raised the radio to his mouth and very quietly called Special Units 3 and 4. Once Eustace was distracted by the phone call, he wanted to try and sneak some men inside the house. When he had issued his instructions he moved back. Sadie was speaking to Stan.
“Stan, it’s me, Sadie. You’ve got to give yourself up.”
“And spend the rest of my life in the nick for something I didn’t do?”
“But Stan…” A movement caught her eye. Allen appeared to be signalling to someone in the back garden. She turned her head. Three men, one with a revolver, were inching forward toward the back door.
“There’s one thing I should mention, Stan,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “There’s a cop with a shooter creeping up to the back door.”
Allen spun around, furious, his eyes blazing. He made a chopping motion for Emms to cut the connection. At that instant there was a splintering of glass as a gun barrel smashed through the downstairs window. The blast of the shotgun split the darkness, and a small shrub to the right of the approaching armed policeman disintegrated.
“Get back!” bellowed Stanley. “The next shot goes into the hostages.”
The three policemen scuttled back.
Allen, white with anger, turned to Sadie, “You stupid cow.”
“You stinking bastard,” returned Sadie, equally furious. “You used me, you bugger.”
Mullett charged over. “What happened?”
“He fired at one of our men.” The walkie-talkie buzzed. Allen raised it to his ear. “But he’s OK, sir, not a scratch.”
“Right,” said Mullett. “We sit tight. We play it cool. We make no more moves.”
Ingram called Allen over the radio. “Eustace is back in the top room with the hostages. The kids are crying, the woman looks as if she’s passed out.”
“And what is Eustace doing?” asked Allen.
“Keeping well back, sir, pacing up and down. I think I could get a shot at him, sir. He’s away from the others.”
Allen could see Sadie, ears straining, listening to every word. He lowered his voice. “We’re playing it cool for a while. But be prepared.”
Sadie moved off into the darkness.
