cigarette.
Down below, Reid got to his feet and walked out of the mall.
As the group reached the ground floor they were joined by two white teenagers in casual sports gear, Nike sweatshirts, tracksuit bottoms and gleaming white trainers. They both had thick gold chains round their necks and wrists. They gave Snow White high fives, then the group moved towards the exit.
Shepherd walked towards the escalator. Wright was already on his way down and Shepherd saw another plain-clothes BTP officer walk out of a mobile-phone shop, pretending to read a brochure.
The group left the Trocadero and walked through Piccadilly Circus, threading their way through crowds of tourists having their photographs taken in front of Eros.
‘They’re heading for Piccadilly Circus station,’ said Reid, over the radio.
‘This is Control. We’re ready for them,’ said a Scottish voice in Shepherd’s ear. The BTP chief inspector in the Management Information and Communications Centre was a Glaswegian. He was sitting at a work station that allowed him immediate access to any of the six thousand CCTV cameras on the London Underground system.
Shepherd walked out of the Trocadero. Nick Wright followed him into the street without acknowledging him. The two female BTP officers fanned out to either side and worked their way purposefully towards the station.
‘They’re at the entrance now,’ said Reid.
Shepherd started to jog. He put the microphone close to his mouth. ‘Brian, where are you?’
‘Twenty metres behind you,’ said Ramshaw, in his earpiece.
Shepherd upped the pace. It was vital that at least one armed officer was close to the group in case a firearm was produced on the tube.
‘They’re inside the booking hall now,’ said the chief inspector over the radio, ‘passing through the barriers.’
Shepherd reached the tunnel entrance at the same time as Wright, who already had his tube pass in his hand. Shepherd cursed under his breath. He didn’t have a ticket. He stuck his hand in his pocket and grabbed a handful of change, but Wright pointed at a blue-uniformed member of staff to let him through.
‘Down escalator heading for the Piccadilly Line,’ said the chief inspector.
‘I’m on the Piccadilly platform, southbound,’ said Reid, over the radio.
Shepherd was impressed. Either the DS was lucky and had played a hunch, or he’d assumed that the Piccadilly Line was the most likely place for the gang to go. Either way, he was ahead of the game.
Shepherd walked down the escalator behind Wright. Below he could see Snow White talking to the kid in the light blue top. Shepherd took out the earpiece. Now that he had them in sight he didn’t need the chief inspector’s commentary.
Shepherd and Wright reached the foot of the escalator. Snow White and her gang were standing in the hallway as if they weren’t sure whether to go north or south. Shepherd headed north. So did Wright.
Shepherd glanced over his shoulder. Ramshaw was on the escalator, trapped behind a slow-moving student with a massive rucksack. He nodded almost imperceptibly. He could see that Shepherd was going north, so he’d go south.
Shepherd waited halfway down the platform, close to the tunnel that led to where Snow White and the gang were waiting, laughing and pushing each other around. He looked up at the electronic sign that announced the train arrivals. There was one minute to go before the next train arrived. Wright was pacing up and down, arms folded, head down, as if he was deep in thought. Surreptitiously Shepherd slid the earpiece back in. ‘Suspects are in the hallway,’ said the chief inspector. ‘No way of knowing which way they’ll move.’
‘Ramshaw, I’m on the south platform,’ said Ramshaw.
Shepherd raised his cuff to his mouth. ‘Marsden, I’m on the northbound platform.’
He felt the breeze of an approaching train. One of the female undercover officers walked on to the platform. She was in a long coat, holding a Marks & Spencer carrier-bag.
The rails rattled and the train burst out of the tunnel into the station. Shepherd caught a glimpse of the driver, then the carriages flashed by. The brakes shrieked and the train juddered to a halt. The doors slid open and several dozen passengers got off. Shepherd caught Wright’s eye.
‘North, north, they’re heading north,’ said the chief inspector.
Shepherd walked to the train, and as he stepped on board Snow White and her gang ran on to the platform and jumped on. Wright got into the adjoining carriage and took a seat close to the connecting door. The female officer got in and sat down, her carrier-bag on her lap. The doors clunked shut and the train lurched along the platform.
Shepherd was at the far end of the carriage. Snow White and her gang were standing at the mid-point, swinging from the handles set into the roof. They were looking around and laughing, and even from where he was sitting Shepherd could detect the predatory look in their eyes. He sat with his arms folded. He could feel the gun pressing against his side. Could he draw it against children? He took a deep breath and said a silent prayer that it wouldn’t come to that. The plan was to stop the train as soon as the gang struck and to get Ken Swift and his team into position at the next station.
The train rushed into the tunnel. Shepherd counted the passengers in the carriage. Most were sitting, but three businessmen in dark suits were standing to his left, discussing a sales conference. A West Indian woman sat opposite, with a wicker shopping basket on her lap. Next to her a teenage girl was listening to a Walkman as she ate a Sainsbury’s salad with a plastic fork. On the other side of the West Indian woman a workman in paint-stained overalls and a floppy hat was reading the
Shepherd glanced at the gang. The youngster in the light blue top was bending over a middle-aged woman, his face only inches away from hers. ‘Give me a kiss, darling,’ he said. She was sitting next to a little girl of seven or eight. Same age as Liam.
The woman looked embarrassed.
‘Come on, darling, slip me the tongue,’ said the teenager. He opened his mouth and waggled his at her.
The little girl laughed, but the teenager glared at her. The woman put her arm round her daughter and drew her close.
Two black teenagers moved to stand behind the young thug. ‘Go on, give him a kiss,’ said one. ‘He don’t have Aids or nuffink.’
‘Please, leave me alone,’ said the woman. The little girl looked scared now.
The teenager reached out to stroke her cheek. The woman flinched, and glanced round the carriage, but no one met her gaze. No one wanted to get involved. Shepherd knew that was why the gang had been so successful in their attacks. They picked on one victim and focused all their attention on them; the rest of the passengers were relieved that they weren’t under attack and did nothing.
Snow White and one of the white teenagers moved to join the group who were intimidating the woman.
Shepherd saw Wright stand up and move towards the connecting door.
‘Give us yer bag, darling,’ said Snow White.
‘Please, I don’t want any trouble,’ said the woman, close to tears.
The teenager pulled out a Stanley knife. So did Snow White. ‘Give me your fucking bag, you bitch!’ screamed the teenager.
Snow White lashed out with her knife and cut the woman’s coat. ‘Come on, come on!’ she shouted.
Shepherd saw Wright talking into his radio microphone, notifying the control centre that the attack had started.
The little girl screamed and pressed herself to her mother. The teenager grabbed her blonde hair and twisted it savagely.
‘Leave her alone!’ shouted the mother.
Snow White slapped her face. ‘Let go of the bag, bitch!’
Shepherd stood up. One of the black teenagers stared at him menacingly. The woman BTP officer also got to her feet, waiting to see what Shepherd would do.
The mother released her bag and Snow White tossed it to one of the gang.
The rest of the passengers were frozen now with horror.
Shepherd took a step towards the group. Three of them moved to block his way.
Shepherd took out his warrant card and held it up. ‘Police!’ he shouted. ‘Put down those knives!’
The teenager with the Stanley knife pulled the little girl to her feet and held it to her throat. ‘I’ll cut her!’ he
