The noise reverberated along the corridor, making almost as much noise as the gunshot.
“Get back here,” he heard Garston screech, and when he turned around, he saw his boss had already wheeled Winston out of the room and was waiting impatiently for him to return. Angela’s face was a picture of misery as she frantically waved for him to come back.
“Hurry the fuck up, you useless idiot,” Garston raged. “We need to get Claude out of here before that woman summons help.”
His head bowed in shame, Errol ran back to join them, wondering if his failure would put them all in jail.
◆◆◆
The hospital foyer was teeming with people, and every single one of them seemed hellbent on impeding their progress as they ran towards the lifts.
“Move aside, please,” Dillon shouted, brusquely. “Police officers coming through.” That didn’t seem to impress anyone, so he just shouldered his way through them instead.
They eventually reached a central hub where several corridors converged. It contained two elevators and a staircase. Unfortunately, both elevators were currently taped off, and a big sign next to them read: ‘Closed for essential maintenance’.
A large map of the hospital was mounted on the wall opposite the lifts, but the floorplan wasn’t particularly easy to decipher. A red arrow pointed to a spot that read: ‘YOU ARE HERE’.
The two detectives stared up at the map, trying to orientate themselves. After a moment, Bull turned to Dillon in exasperation. “Please tell me you know the way to Winston’s room because I can’t make head nor tails of this.”
If truth be told, Dillon wasn’t terribly sure. On his last visit, he had entered the building from a different point. “I think this is the staircase we want to use,” he said, sounding far from certain.
As he turned around, Dillon clattered straight into a group of visitors who had assembled directly behind him and were now engrossed in studying the map. Several of them were people he had shunted out of his path on the way here, and they gave him filthy looks.
“Excuse me,” Dillon said gruffly, elbowing his way through the small gathering for a second time.
Cringing with embarrassment, Steve Bull skirted around a red-faced, obese man who was shouting very descriptive insults at Dillon’s receding figure.
Completely oblivious, Dillon sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and he didn’t slow down until he reached the halfway point between the second and third floor landings.
“You’re like a bloody bull in a china shop,” Bull complained when he finally caught up with him.
Without looking back, Dillon raised a forefinger to his lips. “Hush,” he said, signalling for silence.
“That was rude, the way you barged…”
Dillon spun to face him. “Shut it, Steve,” he hissed.
That did the trick. Bull glowered at him with barely suppressed anger, but he refrained from saying another word.
◆◆◆
Winston glanced back over his shoulder in confusion. Errol had just pushed him straight past two lifts and a staircase.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” he demanded aggressively. He spun his finger in the air, indicating that they should turn around. “Go back. We need to get down as quickly as we can, not fanny around up here.” He was extremely agitated that the nurse had got away, and he had already threatened to have them all shot if the escape failed because of it.
Errol hesitated and nervously glanced sideways at Garston for instruction. Angela said nothing; she was too scared to speak.
“Keep going,” Garston ordered through gritted teeth.
Winston didn’t like that. He wasn’t used to being countermanded. “What are you playing at, boy?” he snarled.
Garson took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “Those lifts are out of order in case you didn’t notice the sign,” he explained, struggling to keep his voice from rising. “Besides, we want the freight lift on the other side of the building. It’ll bring us down right by the exit where the getaway car is waiting.”
Winston considered this for a moment. “Fair enough,” he allowed, “but for fuck sake get a move on ‘cause as soon as the Old Bill arrives, this place’ll be sealed off tighter than a nun’s knickers.”
Not wanting to piss Winston off any more than he already had by letting the nurse escape, Errol immediately started to walk much faster.
“Don’t speed up,” Garston said, placing a restraining hand on the faux porter’s arm. “If we do, it’ll only draw attention. Just keep walking nice and slow, like we belong here, and no one will give us a second look.” At least he hoped they wouldn’t. He couldn’t ignore the possibility that the damned nurse might already have circulated their descriptions to hospital security.
Inwardly, Garston was struggling not to panic. Everything had been going according to plan until that stupid slut, Angela, had opened her big mouth, giving Winston an excuse to take over and run amok in his usual brutal fashion. The gunshot had jeopardised everything, but the situation might still have been retrievable if that lumbering fool, Errol, had reacted a little quicker and grabbed hold of the nurse before she’d reached the safety of the ward.
He calculated that it would take her colleagues a minute or two to calm her down and get some sense out of her. Then, they would have to call it in, and it would take the police several minutes to respond. If they could use that time to get down to Mullings and the getaway car, they could still be miles away before the law arrived. At least he didn’t have to worry about their ride not being there when they reached the ground floor – it was probably the only part of the plan that hadn’t gone wrong so far.
◆◆◆
Dillon tip-toed up the last remaining steps to the third-floor landing with Bull sulking along behind. “Winston’s room should be the fifth door from the end on
