Will rubbed his sleeve on the fogged-up window of the vehicle and peered through the glass.
Next to him, Erin stared at the back of Lake’s head, her features calm, although Will knew she was as worried as he was, by the way her fingers clutched at his, entwined on the seat between them.
The driver leaned forward and adjusted the volume as the police radio crackled to life, then turned to the detective next to him.
‘Confirmation received that Mr Rossiter is at home, sir.’
‘Good.’ Lake raised his mobile phone to his ear. ‘We have a positive identification, team. Both cars are to follow mine. Car three – when we reach the house, you drive round to the back and stop anyone from leaving that way. Car two – you’ll be entering the house with me. Drivers to stay with their vehicles, engines running at all times, is that understood?’
Will bit his lip and thought of Kirby putting the final touches to the front-page news article.
Whichever way Ian Rossiter chose to run, his life as a politician was over.
As the sun crested the horizon, Lake nodded, and the vehicle lurched forwards into the road. The driver manipulated the steering wheel with an efficiency that startled Will.
After half a mile, the car swept up to the gates of the house and slid to a halt on the loose gravel.
The driver lowered the window and pressed the security intercom.
It fizzled once, before the static gave way to a male voice.
‘Rossiter,’ hissed Erin.
Lake held his hand up and nodded to the driver.
‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Trevor Lake of the Metropolitan Police. Kindly open the gate, please. We have an urgent matter to discuss with you, Mr Rossiter.’
The occupants of the car held their breath as the silence stretched on before the voice returned.
‘Proceed up to the house, please.’
A click ended the call, and then the gates began to swing inwards.
The detective raised the mobile phone to his lips. ‘Now.’
The two police cars that had been following at a distance suddenly raced into view, placing themselves in a convoy behind the lead vehicle.
Will hung onto the armrest of the door as the driver floored the accelerator, sending up a spray of gravel under the wheels.
The three cars sped up the winding driveway towards the house, branching off as they approached into their agreed positions.
As the car stopped, Lake turned to Will and Erin.
‘No matter what happens, you stay here, is that understood?’
Will nodded mutely and squeezed Erin’s hand.
She opened her mouth to speak, but a glare from the police officer silenced her.
‘You’re here to identify Mackenzie Harris. Nothing else,’ he added. ‘If you leave this vehicle, my colleague here will arrest you – clear?’
‘Yes.’ Will nodded.
Erin sighed. ‘Yes, okay.’
The detective climbed from the vehicle, signalled to his men, and began to walk towards the house.
Will watched as he approached the front door.
He stepped back as the door opened before he’d had a chance to knock, and Ian Rossiter glared out at the police officer on his doorstep.
Will wound down his window, ignoring the glare from the police driver, the men’s voices faint, but audible.
‘What do you want?’ asked the politician, his voice carrying across the driveway, full of pomposity. ‘What on earth could be so important that you have to disturb a man at this time of the morning?’
His face betrayed no sign of stress, and instead, he stood with his hands on his hips, his hair slightly ruffled as if he’d only just awoken. He wore beige trousers and a navy polo shirt, and Will noticed the shirt was untucked, giving the impression the man had dressed in a rush.
Rossiter frowned as three police officers climbed from the second car and began to walk up the path towards the house.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.
‘Mr Rossiter, this is a warrant to search your house,’ said Lake and handed the paperwork over. ‘We have reason to believe that one Mackenzie Harris is being held here against his will.’
‘This is preposterous!’ shouted Rossiter. ‘I’ll have your bloody career for this!’
His gaze turned to the vehicles at that moment and his jaw dropped. ‘That little conniving bitch,’ he said and looked at the police officer. ‘Is she the one that’s told you this? You know she’s a pathological liar?’
His lip curled as he stared at Erin, and Will felt her tremble under his touch.
‘It’s okay,’ he whispered. ‘He can’t get you here.’
He heard her swallow. ‘He still terrifies me, Will,’ she croaked. ‘None of you know how dangerous he can be.’
She leaned forward to the driver. ‘They’re armed, aren’t they?’
He gave an almost imperceptible nod. ‘We took Mr Fletcher’s story seriously, Miss Hogarth, don’t worry.’
She fell back into her seat, and Will pulled her close. ‘Not long now,’ he murmured. ‘Hang in there.’
He turned his attention back to the house.
‘If you could move aside, sir,’ said Lake. ‘We’ll make a start. Is there anyone else on the property with you?’
Rossiter’s jaw bobbed up and down before he regained his composure. He seemed to take a deep breath before speaking. ‘My press secretary Malcolm Gregory. Two friends that stayed last night – we were drinking quite late. Didn’t seem worth the risk for them to drive home, so I invited them to stay.’
He smiled, and Will shuddered at how quickly the man could turn on the charm.
‘Right, well if you could please ask your guests to join us, that would be appreciated,’ said Lake. ‘Shall we come in?’
Will watched as the police officer led the way into the house, the last man through placing an umbrella stand against the front door to keep it open.
The driver drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as all three of them stared at the gaping maw of the entranceway to the house, wondering what was going on inside.
‘What happens if something goes wrong?’ asked Erin. ‘Have you thought of that?’
The driver glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught Will staring at him. ‘There are two more cars back at the lay-by now,’ he said. ‘And an ambulance.’
Will’s heart jumped between his ribs. If the police had already organised an ambulance, it meant they were taking the story seriously.
It also meant they were having serious doubts about Mack’s survival.