A Time For Justice (54 page)

‘
We got up this morning and ... oh, Dad! Mum’s not here! She’s
gone. We don’t know what to do.’

Henry felt something heavy drop in his stomach.

Meanwhile, in the same room, not six feet away, Donaldson was
taking a transatlantic phone call.

‘
Just letting’ ya know outta courtesy, Karl,’ the faint voice
3,000 miles away at the other end of the line was saying. It was
one of Donaldson’s former partners, still a good friend.

‘
Speak up a little, Jack. Can hardly hear ya.’

‘
Bad news, pal, bad news. It’s about Joe Kovaks...
‘

Henry and Donaldson hung up simultaneously. Each ran a hand
over his own face.

‘
I can’t believe this,’ said Donaldson. ‘Joe’s gone missing.
Last seen leaving the office ten a.m. yesterday, not called in
since. Bucar’s gone too. Not like him, not like him at all. Chrissy
hasn’t seen him. I know he’s a maverick, but he ain’t stupid. Don’t
like it.’

Karen laid a worried hand on the back of his head.

Henry, stunned, said simply, ‘I think Hinksman’s got my wife.’
He closed his eyes, dropped his head and began to pray.

A light flashed on the switchboard. One of the comms operators
answered the call.

‘
DS Christie? Call for you.’

FB burst brusquely into the communications room. ‘I’ve just
brought the Chief Constable up to date with what’s happening and
where this thing’s going. He didn’t half sound strange-’ He stopped
midsentence and looked at the serious faces of everyone in the
room. Karen put a finger to her lips.

All attention was focused on Henry who picked up the phone and
slowly put it to his ear.

‘
Henry, you’re one hell of a lucky son of a bitch. That bomb
was meant for you, but no doubt you know that.’

‘
It’s a conclusion I reached,’ said Henry stonily, immediately
recognising the voice of Hinksman.

‘
An’ I’m real sorry about the kid because I don’t like killing
innocent people unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s so
unprofessional. ‘

‘
So how guilty was the prostitute in Blackpool?’

‘
Hey, some detective! I’m impressed you know about her.’
Hinksman’s voice went hard, making the hairs creep on Henry’s
scalp. ‘She stole from me. She lost her status of innocence. Rather
like you, Henry, when you turned my money down, then when you shot
me.’

‘
And how guilty is my wife?’ whispered Henry, feeling the
nausea grip his lower abdomen like a clawed hand.

Hinksman gave a short laugh. ‘She’s actually very innocent.
I’ve told her it’s nothing personal, but I need to use her. What
surprises me is that you didn’t take more steps to protect your
family. You ain’t even got a burglar alarm on your house. I as good
as let myself in - not even a dog, for Christ’s sake. And all those
goodies to protect - TV, hi-fi, microwave - and those two lovely
daughters.’

Hinksman allowed the words to sink into Henry’s
consciousness.

‘
Had a look in at that older one, he said airily. ‘Developing
a real nice pair of titties. Might come back one day and rape the
fuck out of her - just to make you suffer again. Because that’s
what all this is about, making you suffer for what you did to me.’
His voice grew thick. ‘I wanted to kill you face to face. I was
waiting for you the other night, but I chose the hooker instead...
‘

‘
Then let’s meet,’ Henry cut in desperately. ‘Let Kate go and
I give you my word, just you and me.’

‘
Love to say yes - but no can do. I’m out of here - once I’ve
finished with Mrs C, that is.’ He laughed uproariously. ‘So,
unfortunately I’m going to have to make you suffer by proxy. Oh,
and forget about tracing the phone - I’m on a mobile. Goodbye
Henry. Missing you already.’

‘
Don’t hang up,’ screamed Henry. ‘Hinksman!’ The line was
dead.

‘
I told you to hold all calls, you stupid bitch. I don’t want
interrupting,’ Dave August snapped down the line to his secretary.
He was trapped in his office and it was getting smaller and
smaller. The walls seemed to be sliding towards him like some sort
of medieval torture chamber. He half-expected sharpened spears of
steel to appear.

‘
Mr August,’ Jean remonstrated. ‘I’m doing my best. I felt I
should let you know that the HMI has been on, as well as the Head
of the Police Committee, as well as numerous others ... and there
are two gentlemen here to see you.’

‘
Tell them to fuck off.’ He was sweating profusely. ‘Is that
bitch of a reporter still there?’

‘
Yes, out in Reception together with several others and the
TV.’

‘
Tell them all to fuck off, or I’ll have them thrown
out.’

‘
Mr August, I can’t do that,’ she said desperately. ‘I’m
struggling out here to be as polite to everyone as I can. I’m
trying to protect you so you can pull yourself together, yet all I
hear from you are senseless, obscene instructions which are
impossible to carry out. Mr August, I am very close to
tears.’

Not as close as I am, he thought. He capitulated. ‘Look, I’m
sorry. I’m really sorry. My mind’s in a bit of a mess at the moment
as you can probably appreciate.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Who are
the gentlemen you refer to? Not reporters, I hope. I won’t see
anyone from the press.’

‘
No, they’re officers from Greater Manchester Police. They say
they have something very important to discuss with you.’

‘
Right, right ... give me five minutes.’

‘
I’m Detective Chief Superintendent Runshaw and this is
Detective Inspector Tandy.’

August leaned across his desk and shook their hands. He had
changed out of his uniform into a suit and had quickly shaved,
nicking himself several times in the process. He looked a mess, but
didn’t give a shit. He invited the two men to sit down with a wave
of his hand.

‘
Pleased to meet you,’ he said, even though he didn’t like the
look in their eyes. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘
A somewhat delicate matter,’ Runshaw admitted. ‘We’ve
received a complaint from a member of your force, one of your
officers, and we are investigating it following a decision by our
Chief Constable in consultation with the PCA and CPS.’

‘
Oh? Sounds unusual.’

‘
It’s actually a very serious allegation that’s been made and
it’s an allegation against you, sir. It’s one of rape.’

August nearly wet himself. ‘What? That’s
preposterous.’

‘
A female Chief Inspector has alleged that you raped her in
her home some months ago,’ Runshaw went on.

‘
That’s not true,’ said August shakily.
Please, ground,
he thought.
Open up, swallow me...

‘
Well, sir, the allegation has been made and we’re satisfied
that there’s enough evidence to make an arrest-’

‘
An arrest? Are you saying that you’re going to arrest me? I’m
a Chief Constable, for God’s sake. You can’t do that, especially on
some unsubstantiated allegation by a bitter woman.’

Runshaw held up his hands, palms towards August in a pacifying
gesture.

‘
Firstly, sir, I know you’re a Chief Constable. Secondly, I or
any other police officer could arrest you, so don’t make that
mistake. You are not above the law. However, if you would be
willing to accompany us voluntarily so that we can interview you
about the matter, that would suit us. No unpleasantness. That said,
I must caution you.’ And he recited it, word perfect.

August replied with a sneer in his voice. ‘Her word against
mine. You’ll never prove anything.’

‘
Please, sir, don’t jump to that conclusion.’

‘
You mean you have evidence other than her say-so?’ He looked
astounded as he watched the two men nod simultaneously. ‘Such
as?’

‘
Suffice to say there is more than just her say-so, as you put
it.’

‘
Bollocks! Anyway, I’m too busy to be bothered with this at
the moment. On the way out, make an appointment with my secretary
for some time next week and we’ll discuss it then. Goodbye,
gentlemen.’

Cool, unflustered, DCS Runshaw said, ‘I’m arresting you on
suspicion of raping Karen Wilde, and may I add that I don’t give a
rat’s arse that you’re a Chief Constable. You could be the fucking
Prime Minister for all I care. You’re coming with us -
now.
Understand?’

For the second time that morning, as the enormity of what was
happening hit him, Dave August’s career tumbled before his very
eyes like a ton of bricks off the back of a lorry. Whatever
happened now, he was a goner. The combination of the arrest and the
newspaper headlines had well and truly sunk him, professionally and
personally.

He sat back slowly in his big comfortable leather chair and
nodded apparent acceptance of the situation. But his mind was
racing.

‘
Could you just give me five minutes?’ he asked. ‘Obviously I
have numerous things to sort out and I can’t just leave them in
mid-air. I’ll need to tell my secretary and staff officer what’s
going on; then have a quick word with an ACC to hold the fort. Will
you let me do that?’

Runshaw looked at his DI and gave him the eye. ‘DI Tandy will
come with you, sir. I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.’

‘
No problem.’

August walked out of his office with Tandy on his
heels.

‘
Jean,’ he said, ‘I’ll be back shortly to let you know what’s
going on.’

‘
Yes, sir,’ she nodded worriedly, completely mystified by the
events of the morning.

In the corridor outside the office, August said, ‘I need a
wee.’

‘
I’ll come with you, sir.’

‘
Suit yourself, but I’m not going to do a runner.’

He led Tandy to the gents toilet on the same corridor. There
was no one else inside. Tandy hung back by the door whilst August
relieved himself. He washed his hands meticulously and dried them
under the hot-air machine. Standing there, rubbing his hands as
instructed, flexing his fingers, he made a rash decision which in
his present lightheaded, unreal frame of mind seemed totally
rational.

Might as well go out in a blaze, he thought.

He smoothed his jacket down and with a resigned smile on his
face, sauntered towards Tandy, giving the DI no warning of what was
to come.

It was a wonderful punch. Low, hard and rising, right in the
solar plexus. He couldn’t have placed it better if ‘X’ had marked
the spot.

The wind hurricaned out of Tandy. He doubled up with an
agonised gasp. August then grabbed hold of the scruff of the
detective’s neck, and drove him headfirst into the wall. The DI
flopped to the floor, dazed, gurgling incoherently. For good
measure August kicked the unfortunate man twice on the head. The
first kick knocked him cold, the second meant that Tandy would lose
the use of his left eye for ever.

August then dragged him across to one of the cubicles where he
dumped him, folded him up on the floor around a toilet and closed
the door.

In his haste to leave the gents, August almost slipped
headlong on the trail of blood across the tiled floor.

Outside, the corridor was clear.

He turned and sprinted towards the stairs, propelling himself
down them three at a time. Within seconds he emerged in a
ground-floor corridor. Here he paused and composed
himself.

‘
Fucking career’s ruined, life’s ruined, what’s it fucking
matter?’ he chunnered to himself.

A couple of people walked past him and nodded at him. He
smiled benignly at them. Pulling his jacket together he walked
briskly in the direction of the garage where his car was parked,
passing the armoury as he did so.

The door was slightly open; someone was working inside. August
did a quick sidestep, unable to believe his good fortune. ‘Play it
cool,’ he told himself.

The man inside was a firearms instructor from the training
school. He was working at a small table, checking over some
handguns which were laid out in front of him. August’s eyes lit on
a revolver, next to which was a box of ammunition.

‘
Hello, sir,’ said the instructor, surprised, starting to
rise.

August gestured for him to remain seated. ‘No, don’t get up.
Just a flying visit as I was passing. All well?’

‘
Yes, sir.’

August pointed towards the revolver - a 4-inch barrelled Smith
& Wesson ‘38. Standard police issue. ‘Mind if I pick it up?
It’s not loaded, is it?’

To anyone else the instructor would have said no. But how
could he refuse the Chief Constable? After all, he was the one who
signed everyone else’s permits.

August picked up the gun, gripping the barrel and cylinder as
though he was going to use it as a hammer to knock in nails. In one
flowing motion he whacked the heel of the butt across the
instructor’s head with as much force as possible. Surprise, as much
as anything else, decked him.