Seizure (34 page)

Read Seizure Online

Authors: Nick Oldham

Tags: #Police Procedural, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective

Barry Baron, it was discovered, was due to be at Rossendale Magistrates' Court that morning, defending another of his ne'er-do-well clients. It was Rik's job to go to court, make certain Baron was there and keep the others informed of his movements. The case he had up was due for a trial, but though it was scheduled to proceed, anything could happen.

The little convoy peeled off the M65 and headed towards Rossendale. They came off at the Rawtenstall link and Rik went straight on towards the latter town. Henry turned right on to a countrified road that had once been the main route from Haslingden to Manchester. It dropped into a steep, tight valley, at the bottom of which Henry turned towards a tiny settlement called Irwell Vale, right next to the river of the same name. Baron lived in a new development of big detached houses on a quiet lane here.

Bill pulled in about a mile from Baron's house so he could give Henry warning of anyone approaching.

Henry drove the van on, creeping down Hardsough Road – the river on one side, the one-track East Lancashire Railway on the other – in the way a service vehicle might do in order to find an address. They reached Baron's house and pulled up on the wide driveway in front of a lovely, expensive property. They knew Baron was divorced and lived alone, but weren't sure if he had a cleaner or a live-in lover or if there was someone else with legitimate access to the house. They'd have to suck it and see, and then wing it. At least Baron had a satellite dish on the side of the house, which was a relief.

‘I'm at court,' Henry's PR crackled through his earpiece. It was Rik calling, confirming his arrival at Rossendale Magistrates'.

‘Roger that,' Henry said.

Henry opened a flask and they had a cup of coffee each – something that would hopefully give them some credibility as workmen. Flynn perused a copy of the
Sun
. They weren't going to do anything until Rik confirmed Baron was definitely at court. The coffee tasted incredibly good, but made Henry realize how hungry he was. To complete the scenario, they should have been eating bacon sandwiches.

‘You don't think Deakin's here, do you?' Flynn nodded at the house.

‘Crossed my mind, but I don't think Baron would be that stupid – or would he?' In his experience, even top crims did stupid things, which is why they got caught, not because the cops were particularly intelligent.

‘Nah, he isn't going to be that dumb.' Flynn sipped his coffee. ‘What is it about flask coffee? Comes out better than it goes in.'

Henry's mobile rang. It was Rik Dean calling from court. ‘He's landed, talking to his client in the holding cell.'

‘OK, keep us posted.' He supped his coffee. ‘OK, guys.'

The three of them finished their brews and, after shaking out the last dregs of each cup on to the ground, they went to the back of the van and opened the doors. Flynn dragged out a pair of stepladders. Walker picked up a toolbox and they went up to the house. Everywhere was quiet; only the hum of vehicles on the A56 somewhere away to the left could be heard, and the Irwell to the right. The house was divided from its neighbours by high privet hedges and well-trimmed conifers and was not overlooked.

A spit of adrenaline came into Henry's saliva as excitement started to get to him. This was like having sex with a mistress at home while the wife was out shopping, he guessed. Always the possibility of being disturbed and exposed.

Flynn extended the ladder up the side wall to the satellite dish.

‘You climb up and pretend you know what you're doing,' Walker said to him, handing over a small wrench and screwdriver. ‘Obviously don't do anything to it.'

‘I won't.'

Walker beckoned Henry to follow around the back, and they checked all possible points of access. He sighed when he saw the alarm box high on the front wall above a window.

‘We usually do this sort of stuff in the dead of night and don't give anyone chance to see us. And we usually do research first,' he moaned.

Henry shrugged. ‘Tough. Is the alarm a problem?'

‘Not if we get in cleanly and find the key pad in less than thirty seconds. I have a magic instrument that will find the code,' he said mysteriously.

‘Cleanly?'

‘Don't fall over and break our necks. Don't prat about like the two stooges, that sort of thing.'

While they were having this conversation, they had returned to the foot of Flynn's ladder and stood pointing meaningfully at the house and dish as though they were discussing angles, just in case anyone was looking.

‘Kitchen door, I reckon,' Walker said. He gave Flynn the thumbs up, then he and Henry went around the rear again. The door was a modern, double-glazed UPVC unit that looked extremely secure to Henry. ‘Easy peasy,' Walker said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and delving into his toolbox to emerge with a set of thin plastic keys on a ring that reminded Henry of a baby's toy. Walker looked squarely at Henry. ‘You sure this is going to get authorized? If it doesn't and it comes out, we're up the Irwell without a canoe, you know.'

Henry shrugged. ‘What's the worst that could happen?'

‘The chief'll cover his arse, so will you, and me, Bill and Rik will lose our jobs.'

‘So, hardly anything to worry about.' Henry gave him a cold smile.

‘Thanks for that note of reassurance.' Walker shuffled the plastic keys, finding the one he wanted, inserting it into the lock, easing it slowly in. ‘Magic, these things.'

‘
Henry – trouble!
' His PR crackled with the voice of Bill Robbins.

‘What d'you mean?'

‘I mean I hope you haven't gone in yet, because either way, get the hell out of there now! Just do it.'

‘Doing it,' Henry said.

Walker had already repacked his toolkit. As they hurried around the side of the house, Flynn slid down the ladder as though he was coming off the flying bridge of a sportfishing boat.

‘Move,' Bill said urgently. ‘One minute at most.'

‘What's happening?' Rik Dean interrupted over the radio.

Flynn let the ladders clatter back, hefted them on to his shoulder and hurried to the van.

They didn't need to wait for an explanation: Bill's imperative tone was enough.

Henry's mind raced. Had Baron managed to give Rik the slip from court? He could not begin to comprehend what had caused this scare, but he knew the three of them had to get back into the van, reverse out of the drive and get out of the way.

Thirty seconds, easily, had passed.

In that time they came close to becoming the
three
stooges. Flynn swung the ladder around. Henry saw it at the last moment and ducked. Walker opened the rear van doors, dropped his toolkit on his foot. Flynn brought the ladder back in the opposite direction and Henry sidestepped out of the way again. Hopping on one foot, Walker picked up the kit and flung it into the back of the van, where it burst open. Flynn slid the ladder in too enthusiastically and smashed it through the cab window. He turned and bumped belly-to-belly into Henry as Walker slammed the van doors and trapped a finger, emitting a yowl of pain. Flynn pushed Henry aside, causing him to twist on his right knee, which gave under him. He had to grab Flynn's arm to keep his balance, almost ripping the overall sleeve off. Meanwhile Walker had hobbled to the passenger door of the van and found it locked. Henry staggered to the driver's door, opened it with the remote and heaved himself in. Walker jumped in, quickly followed by Flynn, all three of them having to sit on shards of broken glass from the partition window that Flynn had smashed.

Henry fired up the diesel engine with a plume of blue smoke coughing out of the exhaust. He slammed it into reverse, mouthing, ‘You freakin' pair of imbeciles.' He kangarooed the van back out of the drive, jammed on the brake, causing it to wallow, then found first and gunned it forward for about two metres before stalling it, managed to get it going again, then set off. Behind them, a Mazda sports car turned into the road and pulled on to Baron's driveway.

Henry, using the wing mirror, felt sick at the sight of the car.

‘Did you guys make it?' Bill Robbins asked.

Henry was crawling along the gutter, pretending to look for an address. He swung the van around at the end of the road and drove back past Baron's house as the occupant of the Mazda climbed out and approached the front door, key in hand, not giving the satellite van a second glance, opened the door and stepped into the house.

Even so, just to be on the safe side, Henry dipped his head away. Flynn and Walker were unlikely to be recognized. But there was every chance that Naomi Dale, CPS prosecutor, would immediately make him.

NINETEEN

T
hey regrouped in the car park of the Woolpack, a pub situated on a roundabout near the A56. Rik Dean was still at court, where Baron was still engaged. The other four clustered around the front of the van to discuss the latest development, staying out of sight of the road while keeping it in view. Henry explained who Baron's visitor was; he would have contributed more, but was completely dumbfounded by her appearance and its possible implications.

‘Henry? Did you hear me?' Bill Robbins asked.

‘Sorry, mind's suddenly a blank. What was the question?'

‘What next?'

Henry scratched his ears and ran a hand across his scalp. ‘Well there's no chance of getting any equipment into the house at the moment. We're probably going to have to go to Plan B.'

‘What? Wait for Deakin to contact me?' Flynn said dismissively. ‘We need to make the running here. If we start reacting to events and slowing down, we'll be stuffed.'

‘And you are along for the ride, not the decision making, Steve – don't forget that.'

‘It's my son they've got. I'm no passenger.'

‘You'll do exactly as I say,' Henry bridled.

As the two men stared at each other, a kind of primeval psyche overcame them and they started to square up. Both men were of equal stature, Henry just an inch shorter, but whereas Flynn's bulk was all muscle, Henry was turning to fat around his chest and guts, and was nowhere near as fit – or as physically dangerous.

‘Hey, guys,' Bill intervened, ‘don't be pathetic.'

‘
He's on the move
,' Henry's earpiece told him. It was Rik Dean. ‘His case has been adjourned and now he's leaving court. What's your position, guys?'

‘We've had to withdraw – someone appeared at the house,' Henry told Rik, remembering he hadn't updated him on who it was. ‘Can you follow him?'

‘Yeah, no probs. He's on his phone, incidentally.'

‘OK.'

Henry and Flynn exchanged a fierce look and Henry shook his head at him, about to say something else. Fortunately his phone rang and he answered it. It was Jerry Tope.

‘Henry, I'm in the control room linked to the mobile phone people. Baron's on line, in contact with his office in Rochdale.'

‘Thanks, Jerry – keep us informed.' He gave Tope a quick update of the situation, then ended the call. ‘Baron's phoning his office.'

‘He's driven off the court car park, now heading up the six-eight-one in your direction, guys,' Rik Dean piped up. ‘He hasn't spotted me and I can see he's still on the blower. He's in a big black Mercedes.'

‘Thanks, Rik,' Henry said. To Bill, Walker and Flynn, he said, ‘Let's get back on board and wait to see if he passes us.'

‘I can guarantee he'll be heading home for some totty,' Bill Robbins said. ‘I would.'

‘Let's just get in the cars, see what happens,' Henry said impatiently.

‘I'll get in with Bill, if that's OK?' Flynn said. ‘It'll even things up.'

Henry nodded and climbed into the Transit with Walker.

‘He's turning off at Lane Ends,' Rik Dean's next transmission came. ‘Coming your way. Could be going home.'

From where the two vehicles were in the pub car park, they could look across the A56 and up to Lane Ends traffic lights about half a mile distant. They saw a black car turn in their direction.

The car, which as it approached could be identified as a Mercedes, came to a roundabout that crossed the A56. It shot straight over and passed the Woolpack, heading towards Irwell Vale. Rik's drug dealer's Scorpio was four cars distant behind it.

‘You want me to stick with him?' Rik asked.

‘Henry,' Flynn cut in, ‘let me and Bill take over the follow.'

Henry hesitated, then said, ‘OK. Rik, you pull into the Woolpack. Steve, you and Bill follow.'

‘Roger that,' Rik said.

‘And Steve,' Henry said, ‘you do what you have to do, OK?'

Bill and Flynn followed Baron's car down the steep road into Irwell Vale. They watched him turn towards the small settlement and as they entered the road on which his house was situated, they saw him reversing the Mercedes up his drive. Bill drew in a hundred metres away and switched off the engine.

‘Give them a minute,' Flynn said.

‘Then what?'

Flynn regarded him squarely, his eyes hard and scary. ‘I get out, go calling and you disappear.'

Bill nodded, understanding.

‘Don't worry about me.'

‘I won't.'

Flynn got out, gave a quick wave and strode towards Baron's house. He paused at the bottom of the drive, glanced briefly back at Bill and gave him a go-away wave, but then stopped as the satellite TV van turned into the road and stopped behind Bill's car.

Henry jumped out and trotted towards Flynn, who had dropped out of sight of the house by the gatepost, waiting for Henry.

‘On second thoughts, I'll be coming too.'

Flynn eyed him and nodded. ‘You know I'm going to hit the fucker, don't you?'

‘Only in self defence, I hope.'

‘No,' Flynn said. He spun on his heels and walked to the front door, which he rapped on. Henry followed, and flattened himself against the wall, out of view should anyone peer out before answering the door. Unsurprisingly, no one came. Flynn knocked harder and louder. An upstairs curtain twitched, footsteps could be heard. The door was unlocked and Barry Baron appeared in a shirt, trousers and shoes.

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