‘Cam, that’s at least a dozen coaches. There’s nowhere for them to park down here.’
Cam took a deep breath. Why was he surrounded by such incompetence?
‘Jack, for fuck’s sake, sort it out! I can’t do everything. I can’t be everywhere. I’ll let the bus companies know that there’s not enough parking and give them your number. Sort it!’
He hung up and stood up, trying to work out what to do next. What had he said? Where did he need to go? His thinking was woolly and slow. Reception. He needed to find the contact details for the bus companies. Ruth would know.
Ruth was sitting behind the reception desk, sipping from a mug of something hot. She kept it close to her lips and every time she exhaled steam rose up and fogged her glasses. She was less pale and seemed calmer.
‘You okay?’ Cam asked, not really caring but keen to get her on side so she could help with the bus issue.
‘Getting there. Just a bit shaken up.’
‘Where’s Pearson?’ Cam asked, looking round.
‘He’s gone to find Penny, to make sure everything’s set up for his colleagues.’
‘I thought Penny had already sorted that?’
Ruth shrugged and took another gulp of her drink. ‘That’s what he said. He’s only been gone a minute – I’m sure he’ll be back soon.’
‘Okay.’ Cam couldn’t see any point in interrogating his PA about Pearson. He’d turn up at some point. ‘Can you get me the contact details for the bus companies that we use? I need to get the kids home from the theatre. Jack says they’re already getting restless.’
Ruth put her mug down on the counter and pulled her keyboard towards her. ‘There’s only three. Shall I email you the details or do you want me to write them down?’
‘Email,’ Cam said. It would be quicker. He could go into his office and ring from there where it would be quiet. ‘When Penny or Pearson appear, let them know I’m in my office.’ He had an idea forming – something that might speed up the situation and get help to Tom quickly. He just needed some privacy.
Closing the office door behind him he sat down and rolled his computer mouse around to wake up his PC. Clicking on his email he saw he had over twenty messages but he didn’t even bother to check who had contacted him – he scrolled straight to the one his PA had sent and dialled the number of the first bus company. Avoiding lengthy explanations, Cam invented a water shortage and the person at the other end of the phone was happy to oblige. She said the lack of parking was unlikely to be a problem, but he gave her Raynor’s number anyway – let him deal with any issues.
The other two companies were equally obliging and didn’t seem to find his cover story at all suspicious. Job done, Cam leaned back in his chair and considered his next move.
Pearson’s ‘backup’ was being frustratingly slow, and he was beginning to wonder exactly what the DI had told them. Had he explained the urgency? Had he followed up with an account of Tom’s injuries?
It was the first aid that had given him the idea. If the police couldn’t get here fast enough why shouldn’t he call for an ambulance? He would alert the emergency services and they might be able to send somebody from much closer than Kendal. At least he might be able to negotiate his son’s release if an ambulance was waiting – with or without Pearson’s help.
He picked up the phone just as the police officer entered the office without knocking.
‘Who’re you ringing?’ Pearson asked. ‘Ruth said you were going to get the buses to come for the kids at the theatre.’
‘I’ve done that,’ Cam said. ‘I was just–’ He couldn’t think of a lie.
‘Just what?’ Pearson prompted.
‘I was going to ring an ambulance,’ Cam admitted with a sigh. ‘I don’t think things are moving fast enough and I want to get help for my son.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Pearson said. ‘Put the phone down and we’ll talk about what happens next.’
Cam shook his head. He wasn’t going to be intimidated. ‘No. I’m sick of waiting. Tom might die and you don’t seem to want to do anything about it.’
‘Put the phone down,’ Pearson repeated.
Cam ignored him and pressed nine for an outside line.
‘Cam. Hang up.’
Pearson had moved closer, towering over Cam.
‘No I–’ He stopped, eyes fixed on the detective inspector. ‘What the fuck?’
‘Put the phone down and keep your hands where I can see them,’ Pearson instructed.
Cam did as he was told, keeping his eyes fixed on the barrel of the gun that the man had just slipped out of his jacket pocket.
Before
Chrissie checked her appearance in the mirror for the third time that morning. Her recent highlights caught the sun and accentuated the carefully cut casual style that had cost her a fortune the previous week. Cam had been amused when she’d told him how much it had cost – he assumed that she was keeping herself well groomed for him. If he’d known the truth, and how much money she’d squirrelled away just by adding a couple of pounds here and there to everything she bought, he’d have been furious. It wasn’t difficult these days, keeping the money a secret: all her bank statements now came via email so she didn’t have to have them sent to her friend Laura’s anymore and she was convinced that Cam didn’t really know the real cost of anything.
It had taken a couple of years for Chrissie to realise the truth about her husband but, by that time, she’d had Tom and was trapped. At first, she’d been happy to stay at home, look after the house and make sure everything was
