‘Get out of the way, you gormless bastard.’
DC Rory Fleming screamed out of the driver’s window at a lorry reversing from a side road at a snail’s pace. The driver of the lorry leaned out of his cab and casually gave Rory the middle finger. Rory reached into his pocket for his warrant card and flashed it.
‘Reverse or I’ll arrest you for assaulting a police officer.’
Valuable minutes were lost while the driver wasted time reversing. He wasn’t going to give the hurried detective what he wanted easily.
‘About bloody time,’ Rory cursed under his breath as he was able to mount the pavement and continue his journey towards the city centre.
He was on the wrong side of town and the traffic was still heavy with people making their way home from work. He’d called Christian at the station to ask where Faith was staying. Rory knew where he was heading; he just had no idea whether or not he would get there in time.
He broke the speed limit on Woodseats Road, almost colliding with a single-decker bus who refused to move for him. When he turned right onto Abbeydale Road and saw the length of the tailback, he almost screamed. He slammed on the brakes and slapped his hands hard against the steering wheel, inventing a few new swear words.
Sian and Scott had also been caught in traffic on the opposite side of the city, as they made their way from Hillsborough to the city centre. Eventually, fearful for Matilda and Faith, Scott mounted the pavement and drove round two buses and a fleet of cars. He blocked out the bad language and the horns from impatient road users. He ignored the red light, slamming his foot down on the accelerator. Sian, in the front passenger seat, shut her eyes tightly and held on to the dashboard for dear life.
‘My God, Scott, what are you trying to do?’ Sian said when she dared to open them again. ‘You’re going to get us killed.’
‘I’ve been on the advanced driver’s course. I know exactly what I’m doing,’ he said as he swung the steering wheel right, taking a tight corner at forty miles per hour.
‘Are you sure? I would like to get home in one piece tonight.’
‘You will.’
‘An alive piece.’
As they left the city centre, the traffic seemed to disperse, and the road ahead was quiet. Scott slowed to a more respectable speed and entered a housing development.
‘There,’ Sian called out.
‘Where?’
‘That’s Matilda’s car.’
‘I can’t park here,’ Scott said.
‘Then just pull over. Shit, there’s Steve Harrison.’
Sian was out of the car before Scott had brought it to a complete stop. She reached into her back pocket for her telescopic baton and flicked it to its full length.
‘Steve,’ she shouted.
Steve Harrison stopped and turned at the call of his name. He saw Sian running towards him, baton held aloft.
‘I don’t think so, Sian.’ He smiled.
At six-foot tall, Steve was powerfully built and had a good six inches on Sian. As Sian reached him, he dodged the baton, raised his left arm and punched her in the face, knocking her off her feet onto a parked car. Her head smacked against the bonnet and she slumped to the ground. He turned and ran.
‘Jesus Christ, Sian, are you all right?’ Scott said, running over and crouching beside her.
Sian was dazed. Her jaw was numb, and she could feel her lip swelling.
‘That bastard’s loosened my teeth,’ she mumbled through the pain.
‘Come here,’ he tried to help her up.
‘No. I’m all right. Go after him.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m fine. Just go.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Scott, just get after him, will you?’ She tried to scream through the pain in her jaw.
Scott turned and sprinted off in Steve’s direction. It wasn’t long before he had him in his sights. Two of South Yorkshire Police’s fastest runners were now locked in a battle of the fittest.
Sian struggled to her feet. Put a hand to her mouth and it came away covered in blood. She felt wobbly but managed to get out of the road. She saw Faith’s car in the driveway and used it to support her as she headed for the front door. Pushing it open she went inside. When she saw what was in front of her, she completely forgot about her own pain.
‘Oh my God!’