A further stream of customers stumbled into the club exuberantly.
Flynn had been waiting forty-five minutes now.
He did not really have a plan. Yes, he wanted retribution against the men who had killed Boone and destroyed Michelle’s life, and almost killed him in the process. But beyond that he wasn’t certain. Really he wanted to find all the men together, the two who’d survived unscathed, and the one who’d been shot in the arm by Boone. The fourth one, Flynn assumed, had perished in the explosion caused by the bullet being fired into the fuel barrel. Flynn also wanted Aleef, who he was sure, was behind the whole incident, middleman or not.
Three killers, one businessman.
Flynn relived the killing on the quayside, the faces of the gunmen seared into the front of his brain for ever.
And he waited patiently.
He was good at that. Having been a soldier, then a detective, he was accustomed to watching and waiting without getting bored, then leaping into action. It was a learned skill, but one that had been absolutely necessary in the way he’d chosen to live his life.
The club door opened.
Several people surged in front of Flynn along the pavement at that exact moment, obscuring his view. He did not want to break cover, but he caught a glimpse of the one man who came out of the door, then turned quickly left, then left again into the narrow alleyway that ran along the gable end of the club building.
A single figure. A big guy. That was all he saw. It was enough. It was the man.
Both detectives slouched well down in their seats, so their shapes could not be seen, other than by close scrutiny.
Rik muttered, ‘So what, he’s been for a quickie.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s put the shit up him.’
Looking back by using the door mirror, Henry spotted a figure walking towards them in the distance. The figure — it was a man — stopped on the footpath. Henry could not make out any of his features using the mirror, so he looked over his right shoulder between the seats. The man had stopped next to the unmarked police car, a Vauxhall Astra, then took a step sideways so he was standing behind the vehicle.
Rik, too, had turned to look over his shoulder. His head and Henry’s were side by side, ear to ear.
It was impossible to ID the person, but the assumption they both made was that it was PC Driver returning to his car, having been rudely interrupted by comms and the fake summons to go and see the DI who was waiting for him at Poulton nick.
The hatchback of the Vauxhall opened and the man bent down out of sight behind it, obscuring him and what he was actually doing.
‘What’s he up to?’ Henry whispered.
‘Can’t tell.’
The hatchback closed with a thud. The figure got into the car. They heard the engine start up. The headlights came on and the car pulled out from between the other parked cars.
‘Get down,’ Henry said.
He and Rik quickly slid low into their seats, their heads under the level of the windows. The Astra zoomed quickly past them, up to the next junction, and turned left without stopping, heading away from Blackpool.
Rik fired up the Nissan, waited for the Astra to go out of sight, then set off without lights up to the junction and turned left, when he flicked on his sidelights and saw the Astra was now well ahead of them on the otherwise quiet road.
Henry sat up, flicking his fingers at Rik in a ‘Gimme’ gesture and said, ‘PR, please.’ Rik handed the radio across, which was still tuned into Northern division’s channel.
‘Superintendent Christie to PC Driver at Poulton, receiving?’
There was a pause. The brake lights flashed on the Astra for a split second. Then, ‘Receiving.’
‘I’m at Poulton awaiting your arrival with the DI. Do you have a current location and ETA?’
Again a pause. ‘Amounderness Way, Fleetwood. ETA, five minutes.’
‘Roger that.’
‘Can you tell me what it’s about boss?’ Driver asked.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Henry assured him. Then he said, ‘Superintendent Christie to the Poulton section mobile currently driving the plain Astra on Garstang Road towards Poulton, give me a call.’
This time the pause stretched to complete silence, but the Astra sped up noticeably. Henry repeated the message and added, ‘Please pull in, I want to talk to you.’
Rik had responded to the Astra’s turn of speed with a mirrored surge from the Nissan which, worryingly, left a dirty black cloud of exhaust fumes behind. The Astra did not stop.
Henry said into the PR, ‘Please pull in now. We are behind you.’
Still no response, so Henry called up Lancaster comms who had obviously been listening. ‘Detective Superintendent Christie to Lancaster, please ask the patrol in the Poulton Astra to pull in now. I need a word.’
Comms relayed the message again and got no response. The operator asked Henry, ‘Are you certain it’s a Poulton section vehicle, sir?’ It was a question posed with great delicacy. Just for a moment, Henry had a wave of self-doubt. Was he making an arse of himself here? Was this the same car he’d seen at the scene of Natalie’s murder, the one used by the PC who had found her? Or had he got it completely wrong?
‘Yes, I’m certain. It’s an Astra, registered number…’ Henry reeled off the number of the car.
‘Roger that,’ the operator said.
‘Tell him to pull in again, please. We are behind him and I’m getting cross now.’
Rik flashed the headlights and the Astra then indicated and slowed down. Rik came right up behind it as it stopped. Henry jumped out and told Rik, ‘You stay in here until he gets out.’
‘Henry,’ Rik whined, ‘don’t you think you’re overdoing this?’
‘At the very least he deserves a bollocking,’ Henry shot back, and walked quickly to the passenger door of the Astra, which he yanked open. A spurt of relief shot through him when he saw it was PC Driver behind the wheel.
‘Boss,’ he said.
‘Get out, let’s have a chat. Switch off the engine.’
Driver blew out his cheeks, killed the motor, climbed out and trudged slowly around to Henry on the footpath, ready for a super’s bollocking.
‘You lied,’ Henry said.
‘Uh, yes, sorry boss.’
Henry saw he was dressed in uniform trousers, boots and shirt. His epaulettes were missing, as was his tie. He was breathing heavily and his armpits were wet with sweat.
‘What were you up to?’
Driver looked around for inspiration, then admitted, ‘Just popped in to see a girlfriend.’ He sighed with defeat. ‘Sorry.’
Henry nodded.
Rik climbed out of the Nissan and came around to them. ‘Henry, a word.’ He beckoned him to one side.
Henry said to Driver, ‘Stay there.’ To Rik he said, ‘What is it?’
‘Blackpool comms have just been on. A patrol’s attending the report of a young woman who hasn’t returned home from an evening out. I think we should leave this, and go and have a look-see. Could be connected with why we’re out here tonight. Just rollock him and have done, eh?’
‘OK, OK,’ Henry said and walked back to Driver.
The PC blurted, ‘Look boss, I’m sorry. I know I sneaked off my patch, but it’s not the crime of the century, is it?’
Henry gave him one of his hard, boss-like stares. ‘Take this as a warning.’ He jabbed his finger at Driver. ‘But I’ll be having a word with your sergeant.’ He spun regally away on his heels and took a step towards the Nissan, when he heard a dull knocking noise that didn’t make any sense to him. He stopped and also heard a sort of murmuring sound, and then another dull knock.
Rik was leaning on the open driver’s door of the Nissan.
‘You hear that?’ Henry said.
