Disobey (35 page)

‘I’ll take this side with Del, and you, Franny, can you go with Frankie and take the other side. Lola, take your pick girl.’

They all nodded, making their way to various spots in the street of old, rundown detached houses.

Taking the nearest house first, Alfie ran down the path, adrenaline flowing, determined no one would stop him. He looked at the door, agitated, deciding whether to ring the bell first or kick the door down.

Choosing the former, Alf gave a quick buzz but before he’d even taken his finger away from the bell, he shook his head, talking to himself out loud. ‘Fuck it!’

Turning to take a run-up he lifted his leg, kicking out at the door to let his full weight flow from the sole of his shoe to send him crashing through the front door. Running into the hallway, with gun drawn, Alfie shouted out to the occupants, warning anybody present.

‘Everybody down! Everybody down!’ He ran into the front room, finding an old man asleep on his couch, oblivious to the disturbance. Disheartened but still pushing on, Alfie ran through each room, knowing in his heart – but needing to check anyway – this wasn’t the house.

Rushing out into the street and down the next path, Alfie didn’t bother ringing the door this time. With one violent kick he booted it hard enough to leave the front swinging awkwardly from its hinges.

Further down the street, Del raced to a house where an elderly couple stared from an upstairs window, clutching onto each other in terror at the scene unfolding. Del slipped his gun into his jacket pocket and quickly tried the door handle; having no wish to kick the door down or frighten them any more than they were already.

It opened and he ran in, but instead of calling out warning threats, he feigned cheeriness. Speaking to the couple who’d come to the top of the stairs.

Del waved up to them, eyes darting round at all times. ‘Sorry sir, don’t worry, just some urgent police business. We’re checking all houses.’ Not waiting for a reply, Del continued to race through the house, but like Alfie, he had a sinking feeling Chloe-Jane wouldn’t be there.

On the opposite side, using a mixture of charm and the occasional wave of her gun, Franny was also checking houses. Quickly and as speedily as she could, aware there was no time to waste, aware like the others the likelihood of finding Chloe was getting slimmer by the moment.

Franny, opening the bathroom door in one house, was greeted by the sight of an overweight man sitting in his bath with his dog, playing with an array of toy soldiers. They both stared open-mouthed at each other before Franny politely said, ‘Sorry!’ and quickly closed the door again.

She took the stairs two at a time, running out into the street. Right into Detective Spencer. He snarled at her.

‘Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t nick you.’

‘Because you’re as bent as we are and you’re looking for our statements on what happened in the club.’

Spencer glared at her. ‘This is a dead end. You know that don’t you?’

Franny’s voice was full of emotion. ‘Then help us, Spencer. Get your men to bang on some doors. You don’t need a warrant for that. There’s only a couple of houses to go. Get them to do them.’

Franny looked over Spencer’s shoulder to see what could only be described as chaos. There was a melee of half a dozen police officers trying to calm down irate and frightened residents standing in the middle of the road, where three flashing police cars were abandoned as carelessly as their Range Rovers.

She turned to her right, Del and Lola moving and making their way from house to house.

Spencer, not having answered Franny yet, leaned in, breathing coffee and cigarette fumes at her. ‘Fine, but your statement better be good, Doyle. Real good.’

As Spencer hurried across to his men to order them to start banging on the last couple of doors, Franny waved across to the others to join her. She called out, not sure whether they’d hear over the noise. ‘We’ve got to stop!… Spencer’s getting his men to do the last couple of houses.’

Franny sighed and looked around her. She could see the police were becoming confused as to who they should arrest, as more and more local residents came out of their houses to find out what was happening. It was chaos. A mess. A dead end.

Frankie Taylor crossed over the road to join Franny.

‘What’s going on, darlin’?’

‘Spencer’s getting his men to do the last couple. We’ve got to stop or get ourselves arrested. But I think whatever way, it’s a no go. Chloe-Jane isn’t here.’

Lola hugged Franny. ‘There must be something else. It can’t stop here. Not now.’ Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘Frankie, tell me there’s something else we can do.’

Frankie didn’t say anything. He was overwhelmed with raw emotion just as much as Lola was.

Alfie, having separated from the others, ran back to find them standing by the wall, worry etched in all their expressions. It said all he needed to know. Without bothering to talk to them he turned away, a cold realisation coming to him that they might never find Chloe-Jane, and she might never be coming home at all.

He rushed to where Detective Spencer was standing with a couple of his men. Alfie yelled out, full of pain, ‘You said fifty metres. A fucking fifty-metre radius you said. Well she ain’t here.’

The tech officer looked pale; terrified. ‘I didn’t say she’d be here. I said
technically
.’

Alfie stood inches away from the man, towering above him. ‘You were wrong though weren’t you?’

The man stepped backwards. ‘No, no. it should be about fifty metres, give or take. The fifty-metre radius of a domestic Wi-Fi goes along or up. It’s not complicated.’

Alfie paused quizzically. ‘What you talking about, up?’

The man swallowed hard. ‘Well, a Wi-Fi range doesn’t just run along, it runs up. For example, if you were on a hill out of the fifty-metre range, say one or even two hundred metres away, you’d still pick up a connection. I don’t want to bore you with the technology of it all but it’s the way the frequency travels.’

Lola, along with the others, had walked across to join Alfie. She looked bemused, not understanding in the slightest anything to do with computers. ‘But there ain’t no hills.’

The man looked at Lola. ‘No, I know, but of course it’s not just hills. It could be anything high up.’

Alf enquired, ‘Like buildings?’

The man nodded. ‘Exactly, like high buildings.’

‘Like that one there.’ Alfie pointed to a large high-rise office at the other side of the wasteland.

Franny looked at Alfie. ‘Are you thinking what I think you are?’

Alfie began to run to his car. ‘Too damn right I am … Too damn right.’

64

‘She’s in there, I can feel it.’ Lola looked at Alfie as they stood outside the disused office block. Her eyes appealed to him not to shatter her hopes, however unlikely it was.

Alfie shrugged. ‘Maybe, but …’

Lola interrupted, not wanting to hear anything to dispel her longing for Chloe to be safe and well inside the offices. ‘I can hope, can’t I?’

‘Yes, Lola. We can hope. We can all hope.’

She looked up at him. ‘Be careful; all of you. I’m going to wait out here; me bones have seen younger days and I’m not sure if they’ll manage another flight of stairs.’

Alfie held onto the door of the derelict office block, mustering up all the strength he could. He felt desperate, after so many dead ends, and he had to wonder if this one was just the same thing. Raising hope, only to have it cruelly snatched away. Time was almost up, and this was the end of the road. But for now, he had a job to do.

He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s get in there and bring her back.’

Franny, Del and Frankie all followed into the main entrance area but Spencer and his core team of five stood back. Alfie turned to him. ‘What the hell are you waiting for?’

‘We can’t go in without a warrant, Jennings, you know that of old.’

Alfie rushed towards him but slowed down when he felt Lola’s hand on his arm. ‘Take it easy, Alf.’

He nodded to her, but kept his eyes on Spencer. ‘My niece is about to die and you lot are talking about fucking paperwork.’ He paused, feeling a new level of rage swell inside him.

‘As the Old Bill you may be able to live with yourself if you walk away, knowing there are rules and frigging regulations to abide by, but what about as a human being? What about as a man, hey Spencer? Can you honestly turn your back because of crosses and ticks? There might be a kid in there who needs our help. We …
You
might be the difference between her living or dying.’

‘It won’t stand up in court if there isn’t a warrant. He’ll walk.’

‘I don’t care about court, I care about Chloe, and mark my words Spencer, Lee ain’t walking anywhere if I get my hands on him. You have a choice, help Chloe live, or help her die, which is it going to be?’

Spencer stared at Alfie, chewing on his lip as his men looked at him awaiting orders. ‘Okay … Okay Jennings, but anything …
anything
you do which crosses the line; I’m arresting you.’

Regaining an air of composure and authority, Spencer spoke to everyone assembled as he took a quick glance round. ‘This place obviously has two main stairwells, one at each end of the building. We’ll take the left side, and you lot take the other … And Jennings, I meant what I said about crossing the line.’

Alfie didn’t say anything. He watched Spencer disappear out of sight, and then almost in one synchronised movement, Del, Frankie, Franny and Alfie drew their guns, finding themselves once more creeping silently up stairwells of a deserted, derelict building, with Frankie taking the lead and Alfie taking the rear.

The first and second floors had nothing but large office spaces, with little or no furniture, and occasionally the group got a glimpse of the police on the other side of the building. But that was it. No Mr Lee, no Chloe-Jane.

Dust and dirt, and large open office spaces, boarded-up windows, graffiti and human waste. And with each step, each stair they took as they headed for the top floor, they sensed it was finally over.

Reaching the top, the group hurried into the office space, and a moment later Spencer and his men came from the other side.

Spencer looked at Frankie. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing here.’

‘Nothing this side either.’ Both groups looked at each other, not wanting to say the inevitable words. Del was the first to speak.

‘What now?’

Frankie answered him flatly. ‘I think we both know what. I’m sorry Alf.’ He turned round to look at Alfie.

‘Where’s Alf?’

Del and Franny along with Frankie ran to the top of the stairs. They called out. ‘Alf!… Alf!’

Frankie stared at Franny. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘I dunno. He was at the back. Maybe the first floor …’

‘Shit, come on!’

Two floors down, Alfie, overwhelmed by the frustration of finding nothing, had doubled back on himself for a quick look in the empty office space, letting the others head on up.

He hurried through the rows of empty desks. A wave of nausea hit him again, cold sweat prickling onto his forehead. Alfie leaned on a tall display screen for support, breathing deeply to stop the sickness taking hold. He closed his eyes, desperate for it to pass.

After a couple of minutes, he began to feel better. Opening his eyes, he frowned, peered forward. Christ, how could they have missed it? Behind the five-foot screen, he could see a door. A door they hadn’t seen or checked behind. Alfie turned, about to run to get the others but too much time had been wasted already.

Reaching for the door, Alfie swung it open. It led into another stairwell, only this time the stairs were walled on either side, twisting only up or down.

He paused, listening for any sound. Nothing. Only the sound of his own breathing. Heading upwards, Alfie gripped onto his gun. The stairs twisted around so much he couldn’t see round the corner. Slowly … Slowly …

Fuck!… Jesus!… Oh Christ! His foot stood on a nail, puncturing through his shoe. Then as the sharp pain ripped through his body he heard it. He heard the banging. He froze. Was he hearing things?

Alfie continued up the stairs, watching his step much more carefully. He stopped suddenly. There it was again. It was coming from the left side of him. He touched the wall, tapping it at first before banging it. It was hollow. Then came another bang, but not his. A bang from within the cavity of the wall.

Alfie’s heart began to race. He called out, not caring who heard.

‘Chloe! Chloe-Jane!’ His voice echoed all around him. Then the noise again.

He ran, feeling the wall, trying to figure out what was behind it.

‘Chloe!’

Each time Alfie called her name he was sure, so sure the bang answered back. It had to be her. It couldn’t be just his blind hope. And then it came to him. Suddenly he realised what was on the other side of the wall and why it sounded so hollow. It was a lift shaft. And if there was a lift shaft, there had to be a lift.

Scrabbling up the stairs, Alfie tripped and stumbled, wanting to go faster than his body could take him. He felt the sweat dripping down his back, but he didn’t care; he pushed on. His breathing rasped as the tightness clasped his chest. Dizziness and waves of sickness flowed over him as he refused to stop and rest, even though his body was crying out for it. Nearly there … Nearly there.

Alfie could see the top of the stairs, twisting round to a landing beyond. Once at the landing, he sped round the corner. And he could see it. The old silver rusting doors of the lift. Rushing over, Alfie quickly examined it. Even though it was old, the lift was still sealed tight shut.

He jammed his fingers in the centre of the doors, trying to prise them open, desperate to pull them apart. He gritted his teeth, grunting through pain, sweating through the effort of it all, and digging deep inside himself for strength.

Pull … Pull … He had to pull harder. His arms shook, trembling with the exertion as he tried to crank the doors apart. It was no good. Alfie let go, falling forward and resting his head against the two metal lift doors.