Carmichael ran the wire along the underside of her bra and taped it to her skin, nestling the microphone in her cleavage. She pulled down her shirt and took a good look in the mirror, making sure it wasn’t visible. Bending over the basin, she ran the tap and washed her face, fear of failure creeping over her as it had done all day.
Patting her face dry, she took a long, deep breath.
‘Testing,’ she said, keeping her voice at the level of a normal conversation, mindful of Daniels at the other end. ‘Boss, can you hear me?’
Seconds later, her phone rang.
Daniels’ voice: ‘Affirmative, Lisa. Meet me in the MIR as soon as you’re ready.’
Carmichael put on her jacket. She left the women’s rest-room feeling nervous but also thrilled at the prospect of catching Stephen Freek.
If only she was up to it.
Andy Brown was waiting outside, lolling against the wall in the corridor, arms folded, feet crossed over one another. Carmichael blushed. It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d extricated her from Fuse and she didn’t quite know what to say to him. Daniels had been good about her fuck-up. Gormley, too, considering. But Brown might take the piss, and that she couldn’t bear.
He smiled when he saw her. ‘Boss wants to brief us asap.’
Carmichael didn’t stop. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘You all set?’ He fell in step.
She kept walking. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Just asking.’ He was practically running to keep up. ‘Hey! What’s wrong?’
Carmichael swiped her warrant card at the entrance to the MIR. She opened the door, her stomach churning as she walked into the crowded room. She was behaving like a complete bitch. Not talking about last night wasn’t going to make it go away. But she had nothing to apologize for. Did she?
Of course she fucking did.
Brown was her oppo and she’d let him down.
Badly.
She’d reached her desk. ‘Look, Andy, ’bout last night—’
‘Forget it, man.’ Brown’s gentle Geordie accent seemed more pronounced than usual, not a hint of one-upmanship or triumph in his eyes. ‘We’re mates, right?’
‘So?’
‘So, it didn’t happen.’
‘What didn’t happen?’
Carmichael managed a half-smile, a lump forming in her throat. Brown was a top bloke and a good colleague. She should’ve known better than to doubt his integrity. Patting his upper arm, she thanked him for his support, wanting to tell him she was still feeling rough, confide in him about the flashbacks she was experiencing. Weird images had come and gone all day in her waking hours as well as when she slept: Freek standing too close for comfort; threatening shadows she didn’t understand moving towards her, then fading away; spinning faces turned in her direction disappearing into a black hole. Before she managed to utter one word, Gormley’s voice cut through her thoughts:
‘You two ready to rock ’n’ roll?’
Brown and Carmichael nodded in unison.
‘C’mon, the boss is waiting to brief you.’
Carmichael didn’t move. Another flashback. They were coming thick and fast now. She should tell someone. No. She had to do this. Had to show them she could be trusted. She couldn’t let them down again.
‘You coming or what?’ Gormley asked.
‘Sorry, I was miles away.’
‘Yeah, well, get your shit together, Lisa. You need to focus.’
Sheepishly, she followed him to the DCI’s office. He was pissed at her. It wasn’t like him to be sharp. She’d let him down. She’d let them all down. And if the freak didn’t turn up tonight they might have lost their one and only chance to nick him.
Brown had gone ahead. He was already in Daniels’ office when Carmichael arrived, standing by the window. Behind him, driving rain splattered against the windowpane. It was almost horizontal and very bad news for Weldon, his search team and Jessica. Brown looked more confident than Carmichael felt. A smile of encouragement crossed his face as she followed Gormley in.
She was about to close the door when Naylor appeared, walking towards her with an urgency in his step. Suddenly feeling anxious, she stood back and held the door open. Thanking her as he walked by, he perched himself on the edge of Daniels’ desk and nodded at her.
As Senior Investigating Officer, it was her job to brief them.
‘Right, you two . . .’ Focusing first on Brown, then on Carmichael, Daniels picked up on the tension they were feeling. With an almost imperceptible shake of her head she put their minds at rest. She’d kept her word: Naylor hadn’t been told. ‘I’ve put a stop-and-search marker on the PNC so Freek’s vehicle is already on the radar of every force in the country. Assuming we don’t pick him up in the next hour or so, Fuse nightclub is our next best bet. The object of the exercise is to locate and engage with him in order to arrest him. Is that clear?’
Carmichael and Brown were like a couple of nodding dogs.
‘We’ll be listening the whole time to both of you.’ Daniels’ eyes found Carmichael. ‘Andy has a receiver as well as transmitter. It’s safer that way, Lisa. That means we’ll be able to communicate with him if necessary. Just in case you start talking to someone else called Steve, i.e. not Freek – and it does happen, believe me – we need to know from you that you have the target in sight. The words target in sight would be good. Or, I’ve got the arsehole, if you prefer. Or any other form of words, so long as it lets us know we can move. Keep talking to us so we know exactly where you are at all times. Let’s be absolutely clear about this: we’re not interested in implicating him. We haven’t got time for that. Our sole objective is to lock him up. Understood?’
Carmichael backed up Brown’s nod with a: ‘Yes, boss.’
‘Good. Any questions? If so, spit ’em out.’ None were voiced. ‘You both sure? We don’t want the nine o’clock shudders in the morning.’
Carmichael frowned, unsure what she meant by that.
‘Shudda done this . . . shudda done that.’ A broad grin spread over Gormley’s face. He’d never been able to stay pissed for long. ‘Keep up, Lisa. You must’ve heard that one or I’m losing my touch!’
Carmichael laughed, her anxiety easing a little.
Naylor looked at his watch. ‘It’s time for the freak show.’
Daniels stood up, pulling her jacket from the back of her chair.
‘By the way, I rang my opposite number in Durham,’ Naylor added. ‘She’s fully aware of our intention to mount an undercover operation on her patch. She’s instructed officers working the late shift to steer clear of Fuse unless it’s absolutely unavoidable, so you shouldn’t have any problems in that respect.’ Fixing on Brown and Carmichael, he said, ‘You two take care. Good luck. And Hank, I want Freek back in one piece!’
‘Right!’ Daniels said. ‘Let’s go get him.’
They left the station and piled into the Toyota: Daniels and Gormley in the front, Carmichael and Brown in the rear. Newcastle city centre was extremely busy with late-night shoppers heading home on buses, trains, in taxis. Daniels engaged her blue flashing light in order to cut through the traffic and soon they were crossing the Tyne Bridge heading south to Gateshead.
Carmichael stared out of the window as lamp posts flashed by on her left, the strobe-lighting effect hurting her eyes. Beyond the railings, further downriver, the illuminated Millennium Bridge changed colour. Ruby red clashed with the amber haze of street lamps and blue lights flashing from the roof of the Toyota. And, suddenly, Carmichael was back at Fuse, the psychedelic vortex of lights spinning round her. Faster. Faster. Ever faster.
Daniels glanced in her rear-view mirror. ‘You OK in the back there, Lisa?’
‘Can’t wait,’ Carmichael lied, trying to calm herself.
Focus.
No one seemed to have much to say as the miles flashed by and they crossed the force border into neighbouring Durham. The hiatus allowed Carmichael time to get her head together. She wondered whether Freek would show. Her guts were telling her he would and she was desperate to be there when, if, they made an arrest.
The radio suddenly interrupted the silence: ‘Control Room to 7824.’
Everyone in the car recognized Brooks’ voice.
‘7824 to Control,’ Daniels answered. ‘What you got for me, Pete?’
‘A sighting of Foxtrot, Romeo, Echo, Three, Kilo parked up in Durham. You’ve got a stop and search on it.’
There was a burst of Yes! from the back seat.
‘Don’t get too excited, boys and girls. Officer on scene says there’s no driver present.’
‘You got a location for me?’ Daniels asked.
‘Certainly do.’ Brooks tapped a few keys and read from his control-room monitor. ‘It’s parked on North Bailey. The vehicle is locked and secure.’
‘The bastard’s at the club,’ Gormley told the others.
‘Tell the reporting officer to maintain contact with the vehicle from a covert location until I arrive at the scene. ETA five minutes, no more.’
Daniels turned off the A1M on to the dual-carriageway and picked up speed in the bus lane. Soon after, the yellow glow of Durham City was visible in the distance. She glimpsed the top of the Cathedral through the trees. Flooring the accelerator, heading downhill, she sped through a couple of roundabouts, forced to slow down as she neared the city centre. There were more pedestrians here.
Thursday night was a popular night out in Durham.
Back on the radio: ‘7824 to Control. Tell the officer if the driver shows, it’s still a stop and search. He’s to detain him ’til I get there.’
‘That’s a roger. Anything else I can do for you this end?’
‘Maybe later, Pete.’ Daniels drove up the hill through the market square. ‘Just thank the officer for his assistance. I’ll speak to him on arrival.’
The radio went dead.
Turning left into Saddler Street and on to North Bailey, the Castle grounds and Durham’s magnificent cathedral were on Daniels’ right, Hatfield, St Chad’s and St John’s Colleges on her left. She stopped the car, exchanged a brief glance with Carmichael in her rear-view mirror.
‘Looks like we’re on, Lisa. Get your student face ready.’