His unit, Claire Trent and Paul Turnbull were standing behind a parked PTU van at the corner of the road, hidden from view of the house. Discreet cordons had already been placed eighty yards on either side of number 168. All the men were uniformed and carrying their Heckler & Koch semi-automatics, gathered round the rear of the van.
‘I want to go in with your men, Sergeant. I’m firearm-trained.’
‘I’m afraid not, Detective Chief Inspector Turnbull. There is possibly a child inside and we can’t have extra people who’ve not trained with us as part of our team.’
‘I insist, Sergeant.’
Trevor Hall glanced towards Claire Trent. ‘You can insist all you like, Chief Inspector, but as long as I am in charge of this Tactical Unit, the only members of it are going to be people I know and trust. Clear.’
‘Let’s move on, gentlemen. Trevor is in charge of this entry, Paul. You will remain here with me.’
Turnbull reddened and turned away, muttering under his breath.
Sergeant Hall adjusted his bulletproof vest across his chest, pulling it down so it was more comfortable. Had he gone soft in lockdown? A few hours in the gym would soon clear up anything that resembled fat.
‘Listen up, people, there are only two entrances to this house. The rear backs onto the garden of another house at 37 Dalgliesh Road. Jimmy is already in there with eyes on the back.’
‘Any movement, boss?’
‘None so far, Lenny. He’ll report it immediately if he sees something.’
He pointed to the street map stretched out in the back of the PTU van. ‘Here’s the house. Team A will assemble here with Jimmy. When I give the order, they will go in the back over the fence.’
‘How high is it, boss?’
‘Four feet, three inches and wood-panelled. A pretty standard B&Q special with posts set in concrete. Even you should be able to get over it, Lenny.’
His men laughed nervously, relieving the tension that all of them felt.
‘Team B will go in the front. Steve, you’re going to be in charge of the big orange key. I want a clean one-strike entry like we practised. Team A will clear downstairs while Team B will go upstairs. Got it?’
They all nodded.
‘There is the likelihood that a child is present. So be careful, everybody, the perp has killed before.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Why, you gonna write a letter to him, Tony?’
‘No… I…’
‘It’s Matthew Oram. Little is known about him. Aged thirty-two, single, owns a convenience store near Wythenshawe Park. He’s not on the Register of Sex Offenders.’
Sergeant Hall checked his watch. ‘We go in two minutes, people. Team A leads off and we follow. Our entry time is… exactly 12.15. It is now… 12.10.’
They checked and adjusted their watches.
‘All communications on Channel 7. Lenny, you’re leading Team A and I’m leading Team B.’ He turned to Claire Trent. ‘Anything to add, Detective Superintendent?’
She shook her head. ‘Be careful, a child could be inside.’
‘Tony, you will be responsible for extracting the child. Clear?’
‘Yes, Sergeant.’
‘Right, let’s get ready to move. Lead your team off, Lenny, and good luck.’
Without answering, Lenny and his team ran across the street, turning right into Dalgliesh Road.
Sergeant Hall assembled his men. As ever, the butterflies were fluttering in his stomach. He hated this time before everything kicked off. As soon as it started, he would be OK. The training would kick in and his one focus would be on the job at hand; gaining entry into number 168 and eliminating any threat inside.
Trevor Hall had no qualms about killing if necessary. It’s what he had been trained to do in the marines and now in the Police Tactical Unit. Death was just part of the job. He didn’t look forward to it or enjoy it, but he was damn sure if anybody was going to die that day it wasn’t going to be him.
The Airwave squawked. ‘In position on Dalgliesh Road. Still no sign of activity at number 168. Over and out.’
‘Message received, over. Moving into position. Will give the order to enter in one minute, repeat, one minute. Over.’
‘Message received, over.’
Trevor Hall raised his arm and instantly the five men in his team moved forward behind him, covering his every move. They were quick and silent, speed being the one element that gave them a tactical advantage.
Within forty seconds they were crouched down behind the low wall in front of the house. Hall brought the Airwave up to his mouth. ‘Team B. Go.’
‘Order received. Over.’
Through the Airwave he heard the sound of heavy feet, thudding across wooden floorboards.
He stood up and waved Team B forward. They advanced as one, with Steve running forward, carrying the orange enforcer to gain entry.
It was raised and came crashing down against the lock on the yellow door.
The door held.
Steve raised the enforcer again and crashed it down. The door swung open, smashing into the wall and coming off its hinges. Trevor Hall jumped through the door, his Heckler & Koch pointing forward.
He entered the narrow hall, seeing his doppelganger moving towards him. For a second, he thought he was looking in a mirror, until the man shouted, ‘Kitchen clear.’
Hall raced upstairs, followed by his team. He went to the bedroom on the left.
Nothing but a made bed.
‘Clear,’ he shouted.
From other rooms both upstairs and downstairs, he heard shouts of ‘Clear. Clear. Clear.’ Followed by a shout from downstairs in Lenny’s voice. ‘Boss, you should come and see this.’
Trevor Hall shouldered his rifle and trotted downstairs.
‘What is it, Lenny?’
‘In here.’
Hall pushed open the door leading to the rear living room. His mouth dropped open. ‘Jesus, what sick fuck did this?’
One entire wall was covered in pictures of naked boys, most of whom were less than eight years old.
Chapter 97
Walking into the convenience store, they saw the magazines on their left, facing a central aisle stocked with all the necessities of modern living: bread, milk, eggs, crisps and chocolates. Beyond the central aisle was half a wall of fridges filled with soft drinks and ice cream. The rest of
