Flynn forced him down to the floor, so the side of his head was crushed against the rough surface of the prayer mat.
‘Where is he?’ Flynn asked again, his instinct telling him that this mission of revenge for the death of a friend might have become something much more serious on a much larger scale.
‘Gone, gone,’ Aleef said, tears welling up in his eyes.
‘Who is gone? What is his name?’
‘Akram… Jamil Akram,’ Aleef confirmed.
‘And where has he gone?’
‘To finish what he started.’
SIXTEEN
‘ Suited and booted and now he’s in the traps with a gaoler watching over him. He’s asked for the duty solicitor, so we’ll just wait for him to land.’
Henry nodded as Rik explained this and they walked down the dingy corridor towards the exit that would take them to the underground police garage.
‘Did he say anything?’
‘No, just blubbered a lot.’
Henry pushed the door and the detectives walked out into the chilly garage. They made their way across to the plain Astra that had been used by PC Driver. Henry now had the key and clicked the remote to unlock it. As they approached the car they were pulling on latex gloves. Henry lifted the hatchback under which they had found the trussed up girl and looked at the items remaining. The girl was now in hospital being looked after by a policewoman, her parents on the way to the station. She was a mess.
In the hatchback was a Nike sports bag that had not been looked at yet. Other items in the boot, untouched as yet by the detectives, included a full face ski mask with eye holes, a pair of overalls, a pair of trainers and a roll of duct tape.
Henry’s mouth turned down distastefully. ‘What do we know about Driver?’
‘Not that much yet,’ Rik answered. ‘Just recently transferred up from Wiltshire, apparently, posted straight to Poulton… apart from that, I don’t know him. I suppose it’ll be a morning job for accessing his HR file.’
‘Not unless we knock up the HR manager.’
‘True,’ Rik concurred, liking the thought. ‘How did the chief take the news?’
Whilst Rik had been booking the prisoner into custody, Henry had done his duty by informing the people who needed to know about things like a police constable being arrested on suspicion of rape and abduction. He’d phoned the divisional commanders of Blackpool and Northern divisions, the on-call ACC and the chief himself, all of whom had been tucked up in nice warm beds.
‘Grumpy old man at being woken up. Like prodding a hibernating grizzly. But more irate at being told one of his finest had been arrested for such serious offences — but also pleased it might take us somewhere with the rape investigation. A real conflict of emotion.’
The two men looked from item to item in the hatchback, then Henry carefully unzipped the sports bag.
‘He must have been getting out of these overalls when he was at the back of the car, when we couldn’t see what he was doing,’ Rik said.
‘Which is why he only had half his uniform on. Caught in the act.’ Henry hooked his forefinger on to the zip and gently pulled the sports bag open, peered in and shone his mini Maglite torch into it. ‘Shit,’ he said. He reached in and slowly extracted a long, fine silk scarf, held it up and then looked at Rik, who even in the crap garage lighting went noticeably pale.
‘Trophy bag,’ Rik gulped.
Henry nodded slowly. ‘This looks incredibly like the scarf that Natalie Philips had around her neck on the photo her mum provided for us.’
‘I know,’ Rik whispered. Both men could have been sick there and then.
Henry’s mobile rang. He slowly replaced the scarf back into the bag and answered it.
‘Henry — you awake?’ It was Karl Donaldson.
‘I am now.’
‘Good, can you speak, or are you… y’know?’
‘I am just a bit busy, actually. Police work busy.’
‘Henry — do you know what time it is?’
‘Yeah, well as they say on TV, crime won’t crack itself.’
‘But you’re a superintendent! Aren’t you supposed to be tucked up, beddy-byes? You’re not setting a good example.’
‘Never have done… anyway, why’re you still up? You’ve been living in this country long enough, surely you’re not still suffering from jet-lag?’
‘Funny guy, huh? Even us Yanks work late occasionally.’
‘OK, banter over and out. What do you want?’
‘That apartment those suicide bombers were using?’
‘Apartment?’ Henry said. ‘That’s a bit strong. Even calling it a flat is pushing it.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Just teasing.’
‘You got any CSIs on call could do something for me?’
‘At the flat? Hasn’t it all been done?’
‘Yep, at the flat.’
‘When, now?’
‘Yes, and you might need a plumber, too.’
‘Karl — what the fuck are you talking about? It’s late and I’m dealing with something unpleasant.’
‘I wanna stick my fingers in a U-bend.’
‘Why, exactly?’
Donaldson told him but he sounded like he was talking with his head in a bucket, and though Henry listened hard he only got half a tale. Irritably, Henry said, ‘Where are you now?’
‘M6 northbound, just passing Rugby.’
‘Two hours away,’ Henry calculated, even on empty roads and especially in Donaldson’s hulking four-wheel drive monstrosity. Henry pondered a second, mulling logistics. ‘Tell you what, head for my house and I’ll meet you there. Get a couple of hours sleep, nothing’s going to spoil in the meantime, and I’ll arrange to meet a CSI at seven this morning. How does that sound?’
‘Too lazy, but I’ll go for it.’
At the same moment as Henry ended that call, Steve Flynn was making a call on his mobile phone to a number in the UK.
The phone in the bedroom rang out shrilly, but only the man in the bed stirred and reached out for it, almost knocking everything off the bedside cabinet in his grogginess. The woman next to him, his wife, turned over and dragged the duvet off him and continued to snore softly.
‘Un-huh,’ the man said.
‘It’s me, Steve Flynn — and don’t you dare fucking hang up Jerry.’
The man in the bed, Detective Constable Jerry Tope, squinted at the bedside clock and muttered something which, though indecipherable, was clear in its meaning.
‘I take it you’re in bed,’ Flynn said.
Tope gave an affirmative grunt and said, ‘Whajjawan?’
Flynn managed a slight grin. ‘Get yourself out of there, away from the warm clutches of your lovely missus, and get your brain working — I need to pick it.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Just hand the phone over to Marina, and I’ll have a little discussion with her.’
