The bus came to a halt. Ewan politely let the woman descend, then he followed. The man in the baseball cap bent down to tie his shoelace; the man in the bus shelter boarded the bus. Ewan looked around, curious rather than anxious. He checked his watch and moved away from the bus stop, coming to a halt halfway between the shelter and the pub, where he couldn’t be missed. The woman bustled into the pub and the bus pulled away. As it picked up speed, a man came running down from one of the two side streets. Seeing the bus disappear, he stopped, hands on knees, breathing heavily. The man in the baseball cap went over to him, clearly a friend. They stood chatting, then drifted back to the bus stop where they had an animated discussion focused on the bus timetable.
Less than a minute passed, then a dark-coloured Volvo estate car nosed into the village from the Manchester direction. It was driving slowly, crawling past the village green and the bus stop. It performed a U-turn outside the pub and pulled up alongside Ewan.
‘It’s him,’ Carol said, her voice grim.
Johnny pulled one earpiece away from his head. ‘It’s a woman driving,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘A woman.’ He clamped the earpiece back in place.
Carol looked at Tony. ‘A woman? You never said anything about a woman.’
He spread his hands, as mystified as she was. On the screen, Ewan had moved forward and was leaning into the open passenger window of the car.
Johnny spoke again. ‘She’s saying something about BB’s quad bike being broken . . . She’s BB’s mum, come to pick him up . . .’
‘He’s getting in,’ Carol said. ‘Phase two, Johnny, tell them.’
‘Dark-coloured Volvo estate heading in Manchester direction from village. First letters of the reg are MM07. Can’t get the rest yet. Walkers, to the van.’
And they were back on the road. Being stuck so far back was frustrating, but Johnny gave them regular updates. ‘Heading steady towards Manc . . . Tango lima two behind . . . Motorbike coming up in rear, overtaking tango lima two, making it look dodgy . . . Motorbike in front now. Definitely a woman driving . . . the lad’s drinking something out of a can . . . Junction coming up . . . Bike’s gone straight on, Volvo’s turned left without signalling. Tango lima two going right, tango lima three picking up . . . We’re skirting the city, heading south . . . Bike’s back in behind tango lima three.’
‘It looks like we’re going to Davy’s farm,’ Carol said. ‘Where he’s not supposed to have been since a week past Friday.’
‘Maybe the girlfriend’s a better liar than Ambrose realised,’ Tony said. ‘Presuming that’s who’s driving.’
‘Tell tango lima two to overtake. He can lead us past Davy’s farm and wait on the far side. Tango lima four to be in pole follow,’ Carol ordered.
In twenty minutes, they were sure of the destination. The single-track road they were travelling on led to DPS’s head-quarters and not much else. ‘I need tango lima three and the bike to hang back. Remember, Ambrose said the entire perimeter was camera covered. We want to stay out of range for now. Tango lima four to carry on past, join up with two a mile past the farm.’
They pulled up behind the motorbike as Johnny said, ‘The Volvo’s turned in to the gate . . . Tango lima three’s out of range of their cameras he thinks. He’s out of his vehicle, on the roof . . . He’s got his binocs out. He can see the Volvo pulling up right by the farmhouse . . . The woman’s out . . . Passenger door open, he thinks . . . Farmhouse door open. He can’t see anyone, she must be dragging the kid inside . . . The woman’s back outside, closing the passenger door, back in the car, moving it across the yard, blocking a barn door . . . She’s walking back to the house . . . Inside. Door shut.’ Johnny looked at Carol. ‘Abductions R Us, I’d say.’
Carol opened the back door of the van and dropped to the ground, followed by Tony. ‘All we’ve got is abduction,’ she said. ‘We don’t know whether Warren’s in there or if he’s on his way.’
‘He could have been there when Ambrose visited,’ Tony said. ‘He didn’t search the place, did he?’
‘No. And there was no point in putting the place under surveillance. With their security, we couldn’t get close enough without being spotted. And there’s miles of moor behind them. Someone who knew the terrain could easily come in under cover of darkness.’ The more she spoke, the more unprepared Carol felt. ‘But we do know he was in Bradfield yesterday morning because he sent Ambrose that email from the library.’
‘You’ve got to go in, Carol. We know this killer doesn’t hang about. The boy’s already unconscious. If Warren is in there, he’ll be wrapping his head in polythene right now. You can’t afford to let this boy die. You won’t forgive yourself. And Paula will probably kill you,’ he added, not an atom of levity in his tone.
She nodded. ‘You’re right.’ She leaned back in the van and shouted, ‘Wagons roll, Johnny. Everybody to the gate now.’ She jumped back into the nondescript white van, giving Tony a hand up. They pulled out ahead of the car and bike and made it to the gate first. Carol climbed out and went to the intercom. ‘Police. Open up,’ she shouted. ‘I’m going to count to three . . . One . . . two . . .’ The heavy gates slowly began to swing open. Carol jogged up the margin of the drive. The van, followed by the rest of the vehicles, drove slowly alongside her.
They abandoned their vehicles in the yard and swarmed towards the farmhouse. Carol led the way, throwing the door back. She stopped on the threshold, taking it all in. Ewan McAlpine lay on a plastic sheet in the middle of the tiled floor, unconscious but still breathing. On the table was a heavy-duty transparent polythene sack, a roll of packing tape and a scalpel. Head in her hands, a woman was sitting at the table, sobbing convulsively. ‘I’m so, so sorry,’ she wailed. ‘So, so sorry.’
CHAPTER 40
Tony and Carol were both totally focused on the scene being played out on the other side of the two-way mirror. It had taken a while to get back from the DPS farm to Bradfield Police HQ. First they’d had to wait for the ambulance and the paramedics to confirm that Ewan McAlpine was well enough to be moved to Bradfield Cross under police guard. Then they’d had to wait for Diane Patrick’s hysterics to subside. Once they’d booked her into custody, she recovered herself enough to ask for a solicitor. All of this had given Carol and Tony time to plan the interview.
‘I think you should let Paula lead off,’ Tony had said without waiting to be asked.
