"Sorry, Charlie, didn't mean to take over."
"No problem. Have them stand by, Jenny, until we know where lad do heading. Do you want me to get out there, boss?"
"No, you handle it from here."
Things went dead for a while. It looked as if he'd sneaked through the cordon. If he was heading for the motorway we might latch on to him in a few minutes, otherwise he'd be out of our patch and we'd have to rely on our neighbours. Then there was a sudden burst of static from the speaker.
"We've got him!" shouted an excited voice.
"Call sign and location? Let's have proper radio procedure, lads," demanded the sergeant.
"It's Lima Tango," someone yelled back. "We're on Parkside. He's gone the other way. We nearly hit him on the bend. Doing a… bloody 'ell! … done a U-turn and pursuing."
"Lima Tango… whereabouts on Parkside?"
"Near the park, skipper, heading south. The park's on our left. He's turning left on to the Parkway; we've lost sight of him."
The sergeant pointed towards the map. "He's either heading for the Meadowlands or he's making a break for the Bradford Road," he suggested.
"Lima Tango to control. We've regained contact. On Parkway, heading out of town. Just passing B amp; Q. He's about two hundred yards ahead and we're gaining."
"How fast's he going?" I asked.
"Control to Lima Tango. What is your speed?"
"About sixty."
"Back off. Don't get any closer."
"Zulu 99 airborne, Mr. Priest," interrupted Jenny. "Requesting directions."
I spoke directly with the chopper pilot, giving him some very un aeronautic bearings. We got him there, though. Then we contacted City to see what units they had available and to tell them to switch to our channel.
"Zulu 99 to Heckley Control. We've made contact with target."
"Control to Chopper; can you make a low pass in front of him; make sure he knows you're there?"
"Will do."
I turned to Jenny. "Then blast him with your missiles," I whispered.
"He's turning right," someone yelled over the radio.
"Meadowlands," stated the sergeant. He relayed the information to the other units in the vicinity.
"They're getting excited," I said to the sergeant. "Tell them not to chase him, leave it to the chopper."
He passed the message on. Some of the villains who lived on the Meadowlands estate liked to think it was a no-go area, and the newspapers eagerly promoted this view. It wasn't, though. The area was rife with crime, but it was the pain-in-the-arse variety, committed by fourteen-to-eighteen-year-olds. Boys in men's bodies, but not old enough to draw the dole. They burgled each other's houses, then probably went for a drink together. Everybody knew who the culprits were. Even the respectable people who were in the vast majority could name a string of villains, but a brick through a window, or the threat of a firebomb, discouraged any contact with us. Who could blame them?
The protection we could offer was negligible.
"Lima Sierra here. Approaching Meadowlands, where do you want us?"
"Don't know yet," came back Lima Tango. "Heading towards the big roundabout. Speed, nearly seventy."
"Lima Sierra, this is Control. Get to the flats if you can, and wait.
Lima Tango, back off and leave it to the chopper. Understood?"
"Yes, skip," said a relieved voice, 'backing off. He's turning right at the roundabout, heading towards the flats."
I was standing at the end of the console, alongside the sergeant.
Gilbert was standing at the back, leaning on it and drumming his fingers. There was a burst of noise as everybody spoke at once.
"Repeat message," ordered the sergeant.
"Lima Tango here. He's knocked a kid off a bike. Stopping to give assistance."
"Zulu 99 here. I caught it on the video. Looks serious. Suggest you send for an ambulance, Control."
"Will do. You stay with that, please, Lima Tango."
"Understood."
Gilbert thumped his fist into the palm of his other hand and walked over to the window.
"I'll do it," I said. I had a quick look at the map to verify the street names, then rang the hospital.
"Zulu 99 to Control, he's heading for the right-hand block. Make that the southernmost block."
"Did you read that, Lima Sierra?"
"Yes, understood. Heading that way now."
I got straight through to Casualty, thank God.
"We can see him. He's seen us, doing a U-turn."
"Follow him but don't give chase. Repeat, don't give chase."
"Understood."
A new voice came over the air: "ARV Zulu Bravo to Control. On Heckley bypass. Any instructions?"
"Yes, Zulu Bravo. Turn on to Parkway, heading north. He may be heading back your way."
"Firearms unit leaving city HQ' said Jenny.
Another couple of cars from adjacent forces radioed in to say they were in the area. It looked as if he were panicking. If he'd managed to run into the flats we'd have lost him. They were a twenty-storey warren, named in memory of Hugh Gaitskell, one-time leader and unifier of the Labour Party. Now they stood as a monument to a social plan that had gone badly astray. They had more windows made of plywood than glass, and glue-sniffers and graffiti artists followed their pastimes unhindered.
"Hello, Heckley Control, this is India Romeo, we're coming out of Westland Road on to Dobgate. He's just gone by the end, heading towards Dudley."
"Okay, India Romeo. Follow, but don't chase. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Zulu 99 to Control. He's turning on to the Heckley bypass. He must be doing about seventy."
The bypass wasn't a purpose-built road. It was just a string of existing streets that had been linked together and given priority, to ease the rush-hour traffic flow. He wasn't going to get far at seventy miles per hour. The big question was would he kill anybody when the inevitable happened?
"He's crashed! This is the helicopter. He's just bounced off the side of a bus."
"What's his status?"
"Stationary. The car's in someone's garden. It wasn't too bad, though. Standing by."
"India Romeo, where are you?"
"Approaching; we can see the chopper."
"Zulu Bravo, where are you?"
"About half a mile away. We can see the chopper. Should be with them in a few seconds."
"India Romeo; don't approach the suspect; he's believed to be armed.
Wait for the ARV."
"Right, skip."
I needed a cup of tea. I walked over to the little boiler on the wall, filled it to the MAX mark and pressed the ON button. It was a struggle stopping myself giving advice to the men in the cars, telling them to stay well out of trouble. They were big boys; they'd had the training.
Let them get on with it. Gilbert didn't look any happier than I felt.
"Wonder how the kid on the bike is?" he said, when I arrived back at the console. I just shook my head. Making enquiries about his health might make us feel better but wouldn't help him; sadly, we had other priorities.
"India Romeo to Control; we're there. He's standing outside the car.
He looks shell-shocked."
"Control to Romeo, keep your distance and wait for the ARV."
"The passengers are getting off the bus. A woman's giving him a bollocking."
"Does he look armed?"
"No. Now he's walking towards us."
"Tell him to lie on the ground," I said to the sergeant.
"Control to Romeo; order him to lie on the ground."
Silence.
"Control to Romeo; what's happening?"
"He's lying on the ground." More silence, then: "India Romeo to Heckley Control, have arrested and handcuffed suspect." We could hear the ARV's siren in the background. He went on: "Here comes the cavalry, too late as usual."
The boiler on the wall started to whistle. Jenny and I made everybody tea while they tied up the loose ends.