Slowing, Helen cast an eye over the loading bay, then down the alleyway ahead which connected the rear of the hospital to Marshall Street.This was presumably the access point for the van, so she would have to set up camp here, if she was to smoke them out.Casting around her, her eye alighted on a scruffy portacabin twenty feet or so away, used by those engaged in onsite construction, the builder’s logo displayed next to a scattered selection of concrete mixers and breeze blocks.Making her way over, Helen was not surprised to find the cabin locked, but was pleased nevertheless to see how easily the door rattled in her hand, how flimsy the lock actually was.Applying her shoulder to the door, she leaned on it, testing its resistance, then taking a brief step back, launched her shoulder at it.The door instantly flung open, the lock surrendering easily, and she stepped quickly inside, closing it behind her and securing it shut with the help of a fire extinguisher.
Moving to the window, she teased the blind open, wary lest a passing porter or nurse had spotted her trespass, but the yard remained deserted and quiet.Pulling a battered plastic chair over to the window, Helen removed her helmet and took up her surveillance post as she had countless times before.There would be no sign of the van for a while yet, so now all she could do was wait.
In times gone by, Helen would have had a colleague with her to discuss the case and distract her from her thoughts.Tonight, however, she had no one to divert her, her mind constantly turning on her predicament.Would Christopher give up hispursuit of her or was he committed to jumping ship?Helen didn’t want any part of that, not merely because she would be happy now if she never saw Christopher again, but more because she didn’t want to become the third party in an acrimonious marital break-up.She hadn’t signed up to be ‘the other woman’ – Helen didn’t even know she was Christopher’s lover – and couldn’t face his wife’s righteous anger, however justified it might be.
Rising, Helen stretched her legs, trying to shake off these thoughts, to force her mind onto happier topics.But even as one hour passed, then another, she kept coming back to the bind she now found herself in.She had no appetite to see her body grow, alter and stretch, the poor baby coming to life inside her, yet how easy would it really be to pick up the phone and make an appointment at the abortion clinic?Even entertaining the thought made her feel cruel and heartless, yet what choice did she have?Even if the baby did make it into the world unscathed, Helen knew she would be a terrible mother, hopelessly ill-equipped to deal with this ultimate responsibility.She had such a cynical view of the world, was so jaundiced by past experience, how could she possibly avoid infecting a new baby with her own peculiar brand of darkness?It wasn’t a kind thing to do, it wasn’t even fair.Wasn’t history always destined to repeat itself, her own emotional and psychological damage running down through the years?Would it really be wise to bring another ‘Helen’ into the world?
Sighing bitterly, Helen walked back to the creaky chair, throwing herself disconsolately down into it.She put her feet up on the wall, expecting another long bout of anguished tedium, but as she did so, she heard something.The low growl of an engine.Straightening up, she peered through the blind.At first, she saw nothing, only then to pick out twin beams of light growingstronger as a vehicle approached.Helen held her breath as the sound grew louder and now a battered white van pulled up in the parking bay, Helen’s eyes fastening on to the registration plate.To her dismay, the registration plate was different to the one she’d clocked during her desperate pursuit, but now her eye was drawn to the brake lights, only one of which worked.Running her eye over the shattered left brake light, the battered bodywork, Helen felt sure thiswasthe same van.The criminals who used it had taken basic precautions to disguise its provenance, but she was certain that thiswasthem.
Exhilarated, Helen moved closer to the glass, determined not to miss a beat.The driver’s door flew open and a muscular man jumped out, his face briefly illuminated by the street lighting.Helen’s heart skipped a beat as she took in his ravaged features, her gaze fixing on the heavy scarring and unmoving eye.Casting warily around him, the man moved to the rear of the vehicle, flinging the doors open.Sliding along the window, Helen changed her angle, keen to see what was happening.And now she saw them, a line of silent, downtrodden women in tatty tracksuits, plastic aprons and white face masks filing silently out of the back of the van.Was the woman who bumped into her at the money exchange present?It was hard to tell, but Helen earnestly hoped so, her desperation, her anguish still fresh in her mind.
So what now?Part of Helen was tempted to call the police, to have them swoop down on the thuggish guards and cowed workers, setting the latter free from their misery.But another part of Helen, the wiser part, urged caution.For her, there was no question that this unfortunate group of broken women were just a small part of a much bigger picture, one of the many posses of illegal workers sent out every night in Southampton.If her instinct was right, they were part of a sophisticated andwide-ranging operation, a criminal enterprise that was worth hundreds of thousands, possibly millions of pounds each year.So, desperate as she was to intervene, to save these women, Helen knew that she had to remain concealed for now.She needed to find the source of these women’s misery, the gang bosses and paymasters who controlled them.
She needed to find out where they were being held.
Chapter 55
She kept her eyes glued to the back of the house, searching for any signs of movement.Straining to hear, Emilia could just make out the sound of sirens now, faint but slowly getting louder.Had Tommy Barnes heard them too?If so, how would he react?The success or failure of Emilia’s plan depended on his decision-making in the next five minutes.
Having deliberated for twenty minutes or more on the best way forward, Emilia had made her decision.Ideally, she would have liked to have seen inside the house first, to ensure that the stash of goldwasstill there, but there was no question of sneaking in as Tommy Barnes was obviously up and active, nor did she fancy a face-to-face confrontation, even though she felt sure she could have handled herself.She had no idea who else might be in the house with Barnes, providing extra security or potential obstacles, and even now that remained a complicating factor, which is why Emilia felt agitated and tense.
In the end, she had opted for a bit of subterfuge.Assuming the anguished tone of a terrified homeowner, Emilia had dialled 999, tearfully whispering that a man was breaking into her house, as she cowered in the bathroom.Predictably local patrol cars had been scrambled immediately – who can resist a damselin distress?– and they were now beating a path to the address she’d given, which just happened to be Tommy Barnes’ residence.
Assuming the patrol cars would screech to a halt outside Barnes’ front door, Emilia had retreated to the rear, parking her patched-up Corsa on an adjacent road, which afforded her a clear view of the upper stories of the building.The shabby terraced house was divided into flats and, as she’d clocked Barnes in the first-floor flat, she guessed that he had no easy access to the garden.This, of course, was all supposition.Whether she was right or not only time would tell, but the success of her plan depended on her having gambled correctly.
Still, the scream of the sirens grew louder.Barnes must have heard them by now and surely his first instinct would be sheer alarm, given his track record of arrest and the fact that he was actively dealing, despite being on probation.Was it possible he’d make a break for it out front?Try and get to his moped?If so, he would be disappointed, Emilia already having let the air out of the tyres, but if he did opt for that method of escape, it would not serve the journalist’s purpose at all.No, she needed him to be smart, if she was to benefit.
Right on cue, she saw movement.The curtains in the rear bedroom were pulled apart, then the sash window yanked open.A head emerged, shaven and pale, swinging erratically left and right, as if scanning the scene for signs of danger.Barnes was clearly agitated, the dealer visibly reacting now to the sound of police cars screeching to a halt in the street outside.Moments later, there was a heavy pounding on the door and loud shouting as the police officers identified themselves.This seemed to decide Barnes, who disappeared inside for a moment, before re-emerging clutching a dark blue holdall, stepping carefully out onto the roof of the tired, single-storey extension.
Amused, Emilia watched as he crept across the flat roof, hiswhite sports socks clearly visible.The terrified crook hadn’t even had time to put his shoes on, so desperate was he to escape arrest – no surprise perhaps given the hugely valuable stash of gold he had in his possession.Reaching the edge of the roof, Barnes paused now, picking his spot carefully before dropping the bag into the garden below.As he did so, Emilia heard the unmistakable sound of the front door caving in as the attending officers finally breached the property.Barnes still had the lead on them, however, and took full advantage, sliding down the drainpipe, before disappearing from view.The rear wall of the property now obscured the fugitive, prompting Emilia to brace herself for action.It was time.
Hurrying back to her car, she zapped it open.As she did so, she heard footsteps pounding towards the rear gate, before it was roughly wrenched open.Though she now had her back to Barnes, Emilia could see him in the reflection of the driver’s window.What would he do now?Take a chance on foot?Seek out public transport?Or would the urgency of his plight prompt more desperate measures?Emilia tugged the car door open, pulling out her keys before deliberately dropping them to the ground in a jangling pantomime of incompetence.Clocking her, Barnes made his decision.As Emilia scooped up the errant keys and opened the driver’s door fully, she heard the desperate dealer pounding towards her.Seconds later, he was upon her, grasping her by the shoulder and spinning her round.
‘Right, bitch, give me your keys or—’
He didn’t get any further, Emilia raising her pepper spray and shooting a jet of vile liquid directly into the startled thug’s eyes.For a moment, Barnes stumbled backwards in shock, before the screaming started, the injured man falling to the ground, his hands clamped to his eyes.It was an arresting sight and in days gone by Emilia might have whipped out her camera, butthis evening, she simply reached down to pick up the discarded holdall, tossing it into the passenger footwell, before climbing inside and slamming the car door shut.
Firing up the engine, she was soon on her way.It wouldn’t do for her to get pulled into the unfolding police drama, so she drove quickly to the end of the street.Only once she’d reached the junction a hundred feet or more away, did she take her foot off the gas, pausing to look in the rear-view mirror.Barnes was still rolling on the ground, stricken, but now to her immense satisfaction, she spotted a couple of uniformed police officers running down the back alley towards the injured fugitive.Smiling happily to herself, Emilia slipped her Corsa into gear and eased around the corner, disappearing from view.
Chapter 56
Should she make her move now?
A thin film of perspirations clung to Viyan’s brow as she yanked open the bin, peering down at the contents.It was not the exertion, nor even the impact of her injuries that was making her sweat, it wastension.More by accident than design, she had stumbled upon a possible route out of her misery and suddenly it was all she could think of.Should she seize the moment now, act before her courage failed her?It was sorely tempting, the prospect of liberation dizzying to comprehend.Her mind was suddenly full of possibilities, her body fizzing with energy.Why not cover her captor in rotting tissue and run?Why not seize the day?
‘What the hell are you doing?This isn’t a rest break …’
Viyan snapped out of it, realizing that she had frozen with the bag half-out of the bin.Hurrying to comply, she grasped the heavy receptacle, but her hands were shaking and the liner slid from her grasp, crashing back into the dirty metal bin.
‘For God’s sake, what’s wrong with you?Get on with it …’
Her minder was eyeing her keenly, his exasperation clear.But was there something else in his expression?Curiosity?Suspicion?Had he clocked the change in her demeanour?Earlier she had been bitter and angry, scowling at both her captors and fellowcaptives.Now she appeared skittish, distracted, tense.Had he picked up on this?Could he sense that something was up?
‘Sorry, sorry …’ Viyan muttered, reaching back down into the bin.
As she did so, her eyes strayed to the window.She knew Southampton’s main hospital well, as they visited it every night.She was confident she could navigate her way to the main entrance, but what then?Should she throw herself on the mercy of the doctors and nurses?Or should she run?The first option sounded more appealing, but would they believe her story?Or would her minders convince the authorities that Viyan was lying, confused or even mentally unstable?They certainly wouldn’t let her out of their clutches without a fight.Should she take her chances in the outside world then?Stay under the radar until she’d worked out a plan?Her gaze now picked out the railway line that ran past the hospital.She’d often seen large passenger trains lumbering along the tracks, starting their journey northward.Could she stow away on one of those?Or failing that, simply follow the train line until she was clear of the city?If she kept at it, she would one day reach London or another big city that she could lay low in.
To most people, hiding out on the streets, begging to survive, would have seemed like a nightmare, but to Viyan it felt like a wonderful dream.Hauling the heavy bag from the bin, she took a breath.This was it then.This was the moment when she threw off the shackles, stood up to her tormentors and brought two years of misery and degradation to an end.Gripping the top of the bag, she took a breath and prepared to yank it open.Counting down in her head, she willed herself to be strong.Five, four, three, two—
