Frost’s voice, urgent, worried. “Where are you?”
She didn’t know where she was. That damn wrong turning. Frantically she looked all around, trying to locate some landmark that would pinpoint her position. “Not sure,” she whispered. “About a mile away from you one of the turnings off the main path. I’m not sure which.”
The footsteps, slower now, came closer.
Webster’s voice cut across the transmission. “Let me go and find her.”
“You stay bloody put,” snapped Frost, ‘and keep off the air.” His mind raced. It would be quicker if Jordan and Simms in the van sped round by road to her approximate position and got to her that way. The others could follow. He barked out orders to that effect.
Sue gripped the torch for use as a weapon and waited. It would be a couple of minutes at least before Simms and Jordan could get anywhere near. The bushes ahead shook and rustled, and the shuffling, slow and deliberate now, because he knew he had her, was coming closer … closer…
An old man, small and frail, pushing a pedal bike, gave her a nod as he squeezed past and continued on his way.
She spoke into the mike, hoping they wouldn’t notice how much her voice was shaking. “False alarm. An old man with a bike. Panic over.”
Sighs of relief all round. The van was instructed to return to its previous position
She felt ashamed of herself for panicking. What she had to do now was return to where she had turned off and find the correct path, the one that Frost had marked out for her on the map, report her position, and continue from there.
A small, fairly well-defined, side path veered off to her left. She wondered whether to take it. It should bring her back to the correct route. She moved toward it, then hesitated. Frost had stressed that she must keep to the allotted route or they might not be able to find her.
It was while she was hesitating that the man struck.
A noise. From far off. Webster’s head jerked up. Was it a scream? He radioed to Frost.
“Did anyone else hear it?” the inspector asked. All replies were negative. “You’re out-voted, son,” said Frost, wishing he had never included Webster in the operation. The man was too involved with the decoy. He shifted his position from foot to foot and stretched. Every limb was aching from standing still. He was almost ready to defy Webster and have a surreptitious smoke when the radio clicked, and there was the bearded wonder bleating again.
“Shouldn’t Sue have radioed in by now?”
Frost brought his wrist up to his eyes and squinted at his watch. “How long since she last called in?”
“Five minutes,” replied Webster. “Shall I give her a call to see if she’s all right?”
“Give her another half minute. She’s not staring at her digital, counting the seconds.”
“She knows she’s supposed to call in every five minutes,” hissed Webster. “What’s the point of having check calls if we ignore it when they’re not made.”
Frost snorted with exasperation. Webster was really getting on his nerves. He flicked the transmit switch. “Base to Bait, come in please.” He released the transmit, returning the set to receive. A rush of empty static. “Hello, Sue. Frost here. Come in please.” He violently thumbed the switch over to receive as if the set could be bullied into answering. No answer. Back to transmit. “Frost to all units. She should be near the main path, somewhere. Let’s go and find her.”
Webster charged ahead, not caring how much noise he made. Frost, hard on his heels, getting the backlash of branches forced aside by Webster.
On each side of them,
Burton and Collier smashed their way through the undergrowth. A stitch in Frost’s side almost made him cry out, but he gritted his teeth and forced his legs to keep going.
They reached the main path. Webster looked to right and left. “Which way?”
“Right!” panted Frost.
They hammered along, sobbing for air. The first turnoff. Burton was sent to investigate. On to the second. Webster’s torch slashed the dark. On the pathway, a CND badge. “Here!” he screamed.
Ahead something white. Then a crashing as someone broke from cover. A man. Zigzagging. A naked man. And there was Sue, on the ground, her clothing torn, her face bleeding.
In the dark distance bushes shook, marking the path of someone running.
“After him, son. I’ll see to Sue.”
Webster charged on. Frost radioed for the van to try and head the man off, then homed in Burton and Collier to join the pursuit. That done, he knelt beside the girl. “Sue?”
She eased herself up into a sitting position, wincing as she did so.
“I’m all right, sir.” She gingerly touched her face.
“You’re not all right. It looks as if he gave your face a real right bashing. Take it easy, I’m going to send for an ambulance.” He raised the radio to his mouth, but she tugged his arm down.
“I don’t want an ambulance, sir, honest. I’m fine. I just want to get home.”
“We’ll take you to Casualty. If they say you can go home…”
“No… please. I’m all right.” There was blood on her face from a split lip. She found a tissue in her bag and cleaned it up.
Frost was relieved but couldn’t help feeling that her wish not to go to hospital was for his benefit. An injured officer needing hospital treatment meant a special inquiry to ascertain blame. And how Mullett would love that, especially as this failed, botched-up operation was put into effect without his authority.
She made an attempt to get up, but he restrained her. “I can stand,” she insisted.
“So can I,” said Frost, flopping down on the path beside her, ‘but I’m so bloody nackered I’m going to have a rest. So what happened?”
“I wasn’t expecting him. Suddenly there was something black over my face. It felt like plastic’ She paused. “It had buttons I felt buttons.”
“You mean, like a plastic mac?” asked Frost.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s what it was. A plastic mac. He threw it over my head, then started hitting me, punching my face. His hands moved down to my neck and he started to squeeze.” She touched her neck and flinched. “I managed to pull his hands off, but he started punching again. I couldn’t see. I’m sorry.”
Frost poked a cigarette between her bruised lips, stuck one in his own mouth, then lit them both. “No, love, I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I sodded it up. We were too far away from you, and I should have called it off when your radio packed in.”
She drew on the cigarette. “I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. He kept hitting…”
He took her hand and patted it. “I know, love. I know.”
Webster staggered back and leaned against a tree, his legs sagging, his mouth open as he tried to satisfy the demand of his lungs for air.
“Any luck, son?”
Between gasps, Webster shook his head. “I thought I’d got him, but he must have doubled back and suddenly shot away behind me. Chased after him, but he was too far ahead. Heard a car drive off.”
“Are you sure it was our man?”
“Positive. The bugger was stark naked. How’s Sue?”
“Beaten up, but not too bad. Take her to Casualty, then drive her home.”
She pushed herself up to her feet and began brushing leaves and pieces of dead grass from her clothes. “I don’t want to go to Casualty, I just want to go home.” She picked up her shoulder bag, then looked around for her torch.
“Well, drive her home anyway,” Frost told Webster. He then radioed all units requesting they stop and search all cars driving away from the vicinity of Denton Woods. They were helping Susan back to the car when the radio blurted out.
“Kenny to Mr. Frost. Come in, please.”
“Frost here.”
Kenny’s voice was triumphant. “I’ve got him, sir. I’ve got him!”
Thursday night shift
An almost liquid surge of warm relief flooded over Frost. He could hardly take in what Kenny was saying. Kenny had spotted the man charging out of the woods, stark naked. The man had jumped into a car and roared off, but the police constable had managed to swing the patrol car across his path and bring him to a halt. “Where are you?” asked Frost.