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Bayswater Road, at Shepherd’s Bush Road
Pierce glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty already... He heaved an exasperated sigh, his fingers pounding out a beat on the steering wheel. The traffic was God-awful tonight, likely because of the accident that had occurred on Bayswater Road twenty minutes ago. There weren’t a lot of major accidents within the city limits, other than when lorries or other vehicles attempted to enter and exit major highway arteries that ran through London. He should have taken side streets, but an unfortunate veer to the right had boxed him in, making it impossible for Pierce to turn off the road and meander through the Georgian townhomes and hotels of the area to get to Chiswick. It would have taken longer, but at least he would have been going somewhere...
He leaned forward, adjusting the volume on the police radio. To be honest, he rarely turned the volume up on it... Most of the time he didn’t need it, and had considered having it taken out of his car, as many other detectives had done when mobiles became commonplace. Pierce sat back, searched through his pockets for his cigarettes. He looked at the pack ruefully... He was running dangerously low, and he cursed himself for not stopping to grab a pack before starting this bloody trip. He glanced at his watch again... eight-thirty-five... Fuuuuuuuuuck!
“Detective Sergeant Pierce, come back?” Nearly dropped his mobile between the seats as he hurried to pick up the receiver on the radio. What the hell?!?
“Dispatch, this is DS Pierce.”
“DS Pierce, we have a 999-call open, and the caller is asking to speak to you.”
“Dispatch, who is it?” Pierce had a couple of thoughts on who it could be, but the answer that dispatch gave me him left him utterly gobsmacked.
“DS Pierce, the caller says his name is Jordan Newcastle. He’s—”
“Yes, I know.” Pierce could feel the panic swelling, slowing through his body. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself before returning to the call. “Dispatch, can you patch him through to me here?”
“Of course, one moment.”
The line went quiet, though Pierce could hear the sounds of typing fingertips. Suddenly, the radio hummed, and a small voice spoke, barely a whisper above the steady electrical hum of the signal.
“Hello?”
“This is DS Pierce. Jordan, is it?”
“Yes.” Pierce could hear the fear in the boy’s voice, and he was still so quiet...
“Jordan, what’s going on? Are you alright? Where’s your mum, and your brother?
It was quiet for what felt like an eternity as Pierce waited for the boy to answer. The hiss of the signal had dulled somewhat after the dispatcher had switched the call over. Pierce knew they were still monitoring the call, listening for any trigger words that could alert them to the reason behind the call and what needed to be sent, assistance-wise.
“Sorry... I couldn’t let them hear me up here,” Jordan began, his voice very hushed, but quite clear in its enunciation. Pierce assumed that he was trying to make his soft words more easily discernible by very clearly pronouncing them. “I’m alright... I’m hiding in the attic... But my mum and my brother are downstairs in dad’s office. There’s a man with a shotgun, and a lady...“
A lady? Oh shit... “Uh, Jordan... did you hear the lady’s name?”
“No, but the man with the shotgun wants her to open dad’s file cabinet, the one without a key.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!! “Jordan, I want you to stay on the phone with the dispatcher, alright? I’ll get there as fast as I can.” Pierce threw down the receiver and quickly dialed his mobile.
“Yes, this is Detective Sergeant Richard Pierce... I need Armed Response... and a hostage negotiator to number 32 Burlington Lane...”