he could see how frightened the man was. Shepherd rushed forward, the rope trailing in his wake, and slammed the stock of the carbine against the man’s chin. His eyes turned up in their sockets and he fell to the ground. Shepherd kicked the shotgun to the side and rushed through the door. He shouldered the man in the baseball jacket to the side, his MP5 at the ready, but it was all over.
The air was thick with dust from the ceiling. The second target was on the floor, the shotgun several feet away, blood oozing from his left thigh. He was clutching his leg and wheezing. Through the shop window Shepherd saw two armed police running from the coach, handguns held high.
Tapping was standing by the counter, breathing heavily.
‘You okay, Kev?’
Tapping nodded.
Shepherd spoke into his radio mike. ‘All clear, Sarge. Two targets, one unconscious, one bleeding from a leg wound. We need paramedics.’
‘They’re on their way, Stu. You okay?’
‘We’re fine.’
The two armed officers burst into the shop. One picked up the shotgun and made it safe.
‘There’s another in the kitchen,’ said Shepherd.
Two paramedics arrived with a trolley. Tapping and Shepherd ushered the hostages outside. One of the members of staff, a middle-aged West Indian, was insisting that he be allowed to stay but Tapping told him it was a crime scene and pushed him outside. The woman who had been looking after the injured hostage was sobbing and a WPC took her to an ambulance.
The paramedics dealt with the injured hostage who was bleeding from the stomach and barely conscious. Shepherd knelt beside the robber Tapping had shot and used his Swiss Army knife to cut away the man’s bloody trouser leg. There was an entry wound six inches above the knee and a larger exit wound at the back. It was bleeding but Shepherd could see it wasn’t life-threatening.
Two more paramedics rushed in. Tapping and Shepherd moved away to give them room to work on the man’s injured leg. Sutherland and Ramshaw appeared at the shop doorway. ‘Everything okay?’ asked Sutherland.
‘We’re fine,’ said Shepherd.
The armed officer who’d gone into the kitchen reappeared with two uniformed officers who’d come in through the fire exit. They had handcuffed the robber Shepherd had knocked out. The man was still dazed but he could walk.
‘How did you manage that?’ asked Sutherland.
‘He was slow,’ said Shepherd, ‘and I almost landed on top of him.’
‘Mine fired by mistake,’ said Tapping. ‘Shat himself when I dropped through and the shot went into the ceiling but I couldn’t take the chance of him firing again.’
‘I’d forget the “by mistake” bit if I were you,’ said Shepherd, keeping his voice low. ‘He fired, end of story. There were too many civilians around to take chances.’
Rose appeared at the door. ‘You guys okay?’
‘Not a scratch,’ said Tapping. ‘The one on the ground shot at me so I fired. Stu here didn’t bother with his gun, took his guy out with a flying drop kick.’
‘I hit him with the stock,’ said Shepherd.
Rose clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Not bad for a first day on the job,’ he said.
Swift jogged down the street. He stood aside for the paramedics to wheel out the injured hostage. ‘Is he going to be okay?’
‘Stomach and intestine perforated and he’s lost a lot of blood,’ said a paramedic. ‘It doesn’t look good.’
‘No one else hurt?’ asked Swift.
‘Just a leg wound,’ said Rose, indicating the robber on the floor.
‘Brilliant, lads,’ said Swift. ‘Might have a photo-call for you later, turn you into heroes.’
Shepherd grimaced. ‘If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d rather keep a low profile. A guy did stop a bullet. He might have relatives who’ll take offence if they see us grinning on the front page of the
‘Maybe you’re right,’ said Swift, ‘but the OIC’s going to be putting you up for a commendation.’
Shepherd forced a smile. He knew he wouldn’t be getting a commendation for ending the siege. Stuart Marsden didn’t exist. If Shepherd got a commendation it would be for exposing the bad apples in SO19. And he doubted that Ken Swift or any other cop would be lining up to shake his hand when that happened.
‘You know the drill, Kev,’ said Swift, putting his hand on Tapping’s shoulder. ‘SOCO will take the weapon and you’ll have to talk to the Internal Investigation Command. You’re removed from firearms duty, pending the result of the investigation, but it looks righteous to me. I don’t see you having any problems.’
‘I do my job and I get to ride a desk for six months,’ said Tapping, bitterly.
‘You saved lives today,’ said Swift, ‘but there’s a procedure, you know that. You did well, and you’ll be back on duty before you know it.’
‘Might be worth giving this place a going-over, sir,’ said Shepherd. ‘The owner seemed pretty keen to stay and it seems a funny place to stick up with shotguns.’
A uniformed constable picked up a red nylon bag with a Nike swoosh that had been lying behind the counter. He unzipped it and whistled softly. It contained rolls of banknotes and a Ziploc plastic bag filled with polythene packages of white crystals.
Swift walked over and picked up the Ziploc bag. ‘Crack cocaine,’ he said. He looked at Shepherd. ‘You were right.’
‘Explains the artillery,’ said Shepherd.
‘There must be thirty grand there,’ said Sutherland.
Swift put the drugs back into the nylon bag and zipped it up. ‘It just gets better and better for you two,’ he said. ‘You rescue the hostages and bust a major drugs operation.’
‘All in a day’s work.’ Shepherd grinned and winked at Tapping. Then he looked at Rose. The sergeant was gazing at the nylon bag with a thoughtful look on his face.
Shepherd glanced over his shoulder to check that no one was paying any attention to him, then slipped the three mobile phones out of his locker and into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t want anyone asking why he was carrying so many. When he worked undercover among villains it was common practice to have numerous mobiles, usually with pay-as-you-go Sim cards that were thrown away regularly. But cops weren’t villains. Most of them, anyway.
Shepherd left the building and headed for the underground car park. He took one of the phones out of his pocket and switched it on.
Rose and Sutherland caught up with him and slapped his shoulder. ‘Drinks,’ said Rose.
‘Right, Sarge,’ said Shepherd.
‘First round’s on the new guy,’ said Sutherland. ‘Tradition.’
‘Where?’
‘Bull’s Head, down there on the left,’ said Rose, pointing along Leman Street. ‘Landlord used to be in the job so we can have a lock-in whenever we want. Tonight’s gonna be a heavy night.’
‘I’m driving, Sarge.’
‘That’s what minicabs are for.’ He pointed down the road. ‘Second left.’
‘I’ll catch you up,’ said Shepherd. ‘I just want to check my messages.’
Rose and Sutherland headed down the road, deep in conversation. Shepherd looked at the mobile. A voicemail message was waiting on the Tony Nelson phone. Shepherd put it to his ear and listened. It was Angie Kerr, asking him to call her back. Her husband was away for the night so he could call any time.
Shepherd dialled her number.
‘It’s me,’ he said, when she answered. ‘Is it okay to talk?’
‘He’s away all night,’ she said. ‘When are you going to do it?’
‘This isn’t the sort of conversation I want to have on the phone,’ said Shepherd.
‘I’ve got some details of where he’ll be over the next few days,’ said Angie. ‘I thought it might help to meet up.’
Shepherd raised his eyebrows. He’d thought he was going to have a problem persuading her to meet him, but
