Carol glared at him. ‘And what if they don’t catch him? How long do we stay off the radar? How long do we put our lives on hold till it’s safe to come out?’
‘They’ll catch him. He’s not Superman. He’s got no sense of the surveillance society that’s sprung up since he was sent down.’
Carol snorted. ‘You think? The hard evidence that put him away came from the early versions of what we’ve got now. I think he’ll be very conscious of what’s out there. If he was on a Therapeutic Community Wing, he’ll have had a TV, a radio. Maybe even limited Internet access. Tony, Vance will know exactly what he’s up against and he’ll have made his plans with that in mind.’
‘All the more reason to lie low,’ Tony said stubbornly. He slammed his hands down on the arm of his chair. ‘Damn it, Carol, I don’t want to lose anybody else to that sick bastard.’ His face was stripped of defences and she was reminded of how personal Shaz Bowman’s death had felt to him. The blame he’d loaded on his own shoulders had weighed him down for years, not least because the courts had allowed Vance to escape the consequences of that particularly brutal act.
‘You won’t,’ she said, her voice soft and warm. ‘It’s not going to be like last time. But cops like us don’t hide from animals like Jacko Vance. We go out after them.’ She held up a hand to stop him as he opened his mouth to speak. ‘And I don’t say that in the spirit of gung-ho stupidity. I say it because I believe it. If I start letting the fear take control, I might as well quit right now. Never mind a new start. The only thing I should be looking at is early retirement.’
Tony sighed, knowing when he was defeated. ‘I can’t make you,’ he said.
‘No, you can’t. And unless the others have changed a hell of a lot in the past dozen or so years, you can’t make them either. We need to be out there, looking for him.’
Tony screwed up his face in a pained expression. ‘Please don’t do that, Carol. Please. Warn the others, by all means. But just do your normal work. Leave the manhunt to people he’s got no interest in killing.’
‘And you? Is that what you’ll be doing?’
Tony found he couldn’t meet her eyes, even though he didn’t feel he had anything to be ashamed of. ‘I’m going to be a long way away from the front line, preparing a risk assessment. Suggestions about what Vance will want to do. Where he will want to go. I was going to hide halfway up a Welsh mountain with you so I could pick your brains, but that’s not going to happen, is it?’ Again, he was aware of anger creeping into his voice. This time, he clamped down on it, forcing himself to sound genial. ‘So I’ll probably get somebody else to deal with my appointments at Bradfield Moor today and drive back to Worcester so I can work there in peace.’
It wasn’t an option that pleased Carol. She wanted him where she could keep tabs on him. ‘I’d rather you stayed here,’ she said. ‘If we’re not going into hiding, the least we should do is stay close to each other. Avoid giving Vance any opportunity for attack.’
Tony looked dubious. ‘You’re in the middle of a serial-killer inquiry and I’m not supposed to be working with you. If your beloved Chief Constable sees me hanging around in here, he’ll have an aneurysm.’
‘Tough. Anyway, I thought you’d figured out a way round that?’
Tony continued to avoid her eyes. ‘I didn’t get round to it. This other business put it out of my mind. And now I’ve got to work on this Vance assessment. I tell you what: I’ll work in your office with the blinds drawn, then, when I deliver to the Home Office, I’ll get it sorted out. OK?’
Carol surprised herself by laughing. ‘You’re hopeless, you know that?’
‘But you have to promise me something in return …’
‘What’s that?’
‘If he comes anywhere near any of us, you’ll take cover.’
‘I am not hiding up a mountain in the middle of Wales.’ Carol’s mouth set in a firm line.
‘No, I see that. But I’ve still got the narrowboat moored up in the basin in Worcester. We could set sail like the owl and the pussycat. It’d take our minds off Vance.’
Carol frowned. This wasn’t the Tony Hill she’d known all these years. Yes, he’d recently claimed he’d been changed profoundly by discovering the identity of his biological father, understanding the reasons why the man had played no role in his life, and coming to terms with his legacy. But she’d been doubtful, seeing little evidence of any change beyond the superficial decision to leave Bradfield and move into the splendid Edwardian house in Worcester. OK, that had also meant jacking in his job at Bradfield Moor secure mental hospital, but Carol was convinced that giving up work wouldn’t last for more than a few weeks. Tony identified himself too closely with the exploration of damaged minds to abandon it for long. There would be another secure hospital, another set of messy heads. She had no doubt of that.
However, the idea of taking off on an unplanned excursion to anywhere on a narrowboat was entirely out of character, a genuine marker of change. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d even taken his annual leave, never mind actually going on holiday. Maybe he too was feeling the fear gnawing at his heart. ‘We’ll sail under that bridge when we come to it,’ she muttered, getting up and heading for the door. ‘But the first thing I need to do is break the bad news to Chris. Then we have to get cracking on tracking down the others and telling them.’
Tony got to his feet.
‘No, you’re staying right here,’ Carol said, reaching past him and closing the blinds.
‘I need to go home for my laptop,’ he protested.
‘No, you don’t. You can use my computer.’
‘It doesn’t have my boilerplate.’
Carol gave a grim smile. ‘If you mean your standard intro, just use one of your old profiles. You’ll find them in the directory conveniently entitled “profiles”. Sorry, Tony. If this is as serious as you made out, you have to take as much care of yourself as you would like to take of me.’
There was, she thought as she marched into the main squad room, absolutely nothing he could say to that.
12
Vance had found a Boston Red Sox baseball cap in the taxi driver’s glove box. It wasn’t exactly a disguise, but if there was already a description of him out there, the hat wouldn’t be part of it. It was probably enough to give him a few moments’ grace. He was pleasantly surprised by the new service area on the motorway. Back when he’d gone inside, a motorway service area was a depressing necessity, trapped in a 1960s time warp. Now this one at least had apparently been transformed into an attractive open-plan diner with an M&S food store, a coffee shop with twenty varieties of hot drink, and a motel. Who cared about ripping up the countryside? This was a huge improvement.
Vance drove to a quiet section of the car park, as far as he could get from the motel. He checked out the CCTV cameras and made sure he was parked in a position where the number plate couldn’t be seen. Any time he could buy himself was an advantage at this point.
Out of curiosity, he opened the boot. Tucked in a corner at the back was some clothing. He reached in and shook out the folds of a lightweight rain jacket. Perfect. It was a bit tight on the shoulders, but it covered his tattooed arms, which was the most noticeable aspect of his current look. All the better for getting in and out of the motel.
Leaving the keys in the ignition in the hope that someone would steal the taxi, he walked briskly up the paved path to the motel, keeping his face tucked down into the upturned collar of the jacket. As he walked, he could feel the tension in his body. It wasn’t fear; there were no grounds for fear yet. It was a mixture of apprehension and anticipation, he thought. It was a heightened awareness that would keep him safe. Not just for the moment, but for as long as he needed to carry out his plans.