The Doll's House (39 page)

T
he circus had arrived at Digbeth.

The mobile operations van was parked a block away in the rubble-strewn grounds of a low-roofed sixties-built derelict factory. The armed response vehicles, unmarked Audis with the rear seats removed and gun safes in their place, were parked up next to them. The operational support unit had arrived. Sergeant Joe Cass and his team of seven officers. Tooled up, ready.

The street had been closed, the area evacuated.

Phil looked over the road at their target building, on the corner of Burchall Street and Cheapside. It looked like nothing from the outside, just another derelict factory or warehouse building with mesh and metal plates up at the windows, blackening brickwork. The double front doors were old and heavy-looking. Red paint had faded to flaking and peeling pink and it looked like they hadn't been opened for decades. There was no sign of life from within the building. Overhead, a helicopter circled and swooped, its beam lighting up the street as if they were at a film premiere.

Beside Phil were Sperring and Cotter.

‘You have any more information on those hostages? Name of the second one?' asked Cotter.

Phil shook his head. ‘She might be a lecturer. That's as much as I know.'

‘This isn't the way I wanted to do this.' Cotter turned back to the building, sighed. ‘Just… We'd better not mess this up.' She went back inside the mobile unit. Phil made to follow her.

‘Can I have a word?'

Phil turned. Sperring ground out the stub of a cigarette under his heel.

‘Only take a minute.'

Phil waited.

‘You know who the other one is, don't you?' It was a statement, not a question.

‘Yeah, I do.'

‘Why didn't you tell the boss?'

Phil's voice dropped. ‘Because it's my wife.'

Sperring's eyes widened.

‘She went round to Gwilym's house. There was something she wanted to…' He sighed. ‘Parsons took her…'

‘Then you shouldn't be heading up this team. And you shouldn't be going in.'

‘I know.' He looked Sperring square in the eye. ‘Do we have a problem here?'

‘Is it going to get in the way of you doing your job as a copper?'

‘Of course not.'

Sperring kept staring. Deciding. ‘Then we don't have a problem. But if that changes, I knew nothing about it. We never had this conversation and you're on your own.'

‘Thanks. That's fair.'

‘Yeah,' said Sperring, rubbing his chin. He looked embarrassed. ‘If it was me, I dare say I'd have done the same thing.' He laughed. ‘Not with my ex, though. I'd have left the cheating cow to rot.'

Phil laughed. It felt incongruous but good. ‘You ready?'

‘One more thing. Why did you phone me about this? Tell me first?' said Sperring. ‘You could have called Imani Oliver; you seem to be getting on well with her. Why me?'

‘You're next in line,' said Phil. ‘And like I said, I wanted someone I could trust.'

‘And you think you can trust me?'

‘Yeah,' said Phil, ‘I do. We might not have a lot in common, but I'm not asking you out on a date. I'm asking you to back me up. You're a good copper. I know you'll do that.'

Sperring looked like he didn't know what to say. Phil didn't give him the chance.

‘Come on,' he said, ‘we've got a raid to organise.'

He went back inside the mobile operations unit. Elli was sitting at her laptop.

‘What have you got?' he said.

‘I've got the plans up for the building, but they're old. I'm sure it doesn't look like that in there now. And I've got the thermal images from the helicopter. Look.'

She pressed a button, showed Phil. Yellow and red blobs stood out against the blue/grey screen.

‘There are people inside, but not many. One looks to be motionless, stuck in a room in the middle of the building. The room seems to be getting warmer.'

‘What about the rest?'

‘There's movement towards the back of the building. Looks like two people. There are other heat signatures around too. They seem to be positioned at the entrances.'

‘Good.' He turned to Sergeant Cass. ‘Your team ready?'

‘Say the word,' he said.

‘OK, then. Sperring? You good to go?'

‘Bostin.' Sperring nodded. A look passed between them.

‘I'll take that as a yes, then.' He looked round once more. The armed response unit were ready and in place. Phil hated working with them. He never felt safe. He knew they were well trained and would not discharge their weapons unless they had to, and then only after giving prior warning, but it just took one mistake… He knew how much people played with a new phone when they bought one. Imagine what that was like with a gun.

The teams had all seem the thermal images, had sorted out the entrances. They knew where they were going. All Phil had to do was give the word.

‘Boss.'

Elli was at the door of the unit, looking at him worriedly.

‘What?'

‘That room that I said was getting warmer. It's very hot now. I think there's a fire in there. As well as a person.'

Phil turned to the team.

‘Go.'

M
arina couldn't see. Smoke was clouding out her vision. She was having difficulty breathing, the gag stopping her from getting enough air into her lungs. She was beginning to feel lightheaded.

And hot. Very hot.

Like Bonfire Night. Like the ones she had gone to as a child. Standing too close to the flames, the heat coming off warmer than a hot summer day. Ready to take off her coat and scarf; why did she need them? Then a step away and you're back in the cold November night. And you're glad of the coat and scarf. Just like that. Except she couldn't step away now. Couldn't step anywhere. And the heat was getting closer.

Her mind slipped back again and she was in the present. She struggled, squirmed, tried to pull her arms free of the ropes, just succeeded in making them tighter. And all the while, the heat increasing, increasing…

Still seated, she tried to pull herself forward, towards the door, away from the flames. It was like trying to jump in the air wearing lead diving boots. But she had moved about a centimetre. She tried it again, grunting and gasping. Another centimetre or so. Then again. She had to stop, rest. It was so much effort. Even from that small amount of movement her stomach muscles hurt. Her head felt even lighter as her exertions depleted further the amount of oxygen reaching her brain. She was gasping, gagging.

The flames were still as intense. She didn't know how long she had.

Images flashed into her mind. She saw Phil's face. Smiling at her. Felt a knife twist inside her as she realised she would never see him again. Her daughter, Josephina. The tears started.

Screaming against the gag, she tried to push herself forward once more. Another centimetre. Then another. Then…

She lost her balance. The chair fell sideways. She felt a searing pain in her arm as she landed on it. She tried to move. Couldn't.

This is it
, she thought.

This is the end.
 

P
hil stood back as the OSU prepared their battering ram. They brought it back, hammered it at the double doors. The doors didn't want to give. The OSU weren't going to take no for an answer. Eventually, with a creaking and splintering of ages-old wood, the doors opened.

‘Move! Move! Move!'

They rushed in. Phil ran in with them. All was suddenly noise and commotion. The OSU surged into the building. Phil looked round. The inside was completely different to the exterior. The walls were stripped back to the bare brick, the floors polished concrete. It looked more like the entrance to a suite of Shoreditch artists' studios or some hipster internet company.
Like the rest of Digbeth
, thought Phil.

He tried to take bearings, decide where to go.

‘Elli,' he said to his earpiece, ‘I'm inside. Where should I go?'

‘Straight ahead,' she replied. ‘That's where the heat's coming from.'

‘OK.' He set off down the corridor in front of him.

There were doors off on both sides. An indication of what was inside was given by the decoration around the frame. One had chains cemented into place. He glanced into the room. It looked like a prison cell. Or the stage set of a prison cell. The floor was flagged stone. The dried blood looked real enough.

Back into the corridor again. Looking round.

‘It's on the first floor, I think,' Elli said. ‘Head towards it.'

Phil did so. He passed other doorways. The next one along had rusted circular saw wheels pinned up. He didn't want to see what went on in there. The one after that a dried snakeskin. He focused. Kept going. Found a set of stairs at the end, took them two at a time.

‘Are you still registering heat signatures?' he asked her.

‘Yes, but it's getting much warmer.'

‘How many?'

‘There was just one. There's that many people in the building now, it's hard to tell.'

He didn't need Elli to tell him where the heat was coming from. He felt it himself now. He ran towards the far end of the corridor. There was a door in front of him. Doll's heads of varying sizes all around the frame. This was it. He pulled it open. And immediately felt and heard the roar of the flames.

He looked round, hand over his face. It was the room from the DVD. McGowan's living room writ large. He looked down. Marina was lying on the floor.

‘Shit…'

His heart was hammering as he knelt down, began to pull her out. She was near to being unconscious. He tried to untie her, realised it was futile. He dragged her, chair and all, down the corridor.

‘Get an ambulance!' he shouted into his earpiece.

‘What have you found?'

Phil didn't reply straight away. He couldn't. He waited until he was far enough away from the flames, then looked at Marina.

Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead
…
 

He reached round behind her head, wrenched off the gag. She gasped a breath. Opened her eyes. She looked round in panic. Then saw who it was.

‘Hey…'

‘Hey yourself,' he said, smiling.

Any further conversation was cut off as she began coughing.

‘We need the fire engines here, Elli. Quick as they can.'

‘They're on their way,' she said.

He dragged Marina further down the corridor, then, when he was a safe distance from the blaze, started to pull at her bonds. They were tight, difficult to budge. But he managed to get most of them off, as well as the heavy leather restraints tying her wrists together.

‘Can you stand?' he said.

She nodded numbly and he pulled her to her feet.

‘Got… pins and needles…' she said. ‘Oww…'

He smiled. ‘Come on. I'll help you.'

He put his arm around her, helped her to walk.

He reached the stairs and picked her up in his arms, carried her down. Marina opened her eyes, smiled.

‘Carrying me over the threshold,' she said, managing a weak smile. ‘Caveman.'

‘Shut up,' he replied. He was smiling too.

They reached the front door. He carried her through. Imani Oliver ran over towards them. Phil set Marina upright.

‘The ambulance is in its way. Don't worry. You're safe now.'

Marina put her arms round his neck. Began to sob. ‘I thought… I thought I'd never…'

‘I know,' he said, ‘I know…'

They held each other in the street, strafed by the light of the helicopter.

‘Boss,' said Elli, ‘I've picked up those other two heat signatures.'

‘Where?'

‘On the roof.'

Phil looked up. The flames hadn't reached the roof yet.

‘There's an alleyway between that building and the next,' said Elli. ‘If he can cross that, he might get away.'

‘And he's got someone with him,' said Phil.

‘Maddy,' said Marina. ‘He's got Maddy…'

Phil turned to her. ‘Stay with Imani,' he said. ‘You'll be fine.'

She frowned, clung on tightly to him. ‘Wh-where are you going?'

Phil looked back at the building.

‘Up there,' he said.

T
he flames hadn't reached the stairwell. Phil was grateful for that. He was unhappy about leaving Marina, but not as upset as she was with him for going back inside. But it was his job. She knew he couldn't have done anything else.

‘Ben,' she said, ‘he calls himself Ben. It's his… other personality, I think.'

‘His dead brother,' said Phil. ‘Thanks for the heads-up.'

‘Let me… come with you…'

‘You're not going anywhere. The ambulance'll be here soon.'

Marina nodded reluctantly.

One final kiss and he was off into the building again.

He took the stairs two at a time until he could go no further. Then he found a set of metal ladders bolted to the wall in front of him. He looked up. There was a hatch at the top. He started to climb.

Swinging the hatch back, he pulled himself out on to the roof. Looked round. The beam from the helicopter swung back and forth like a roving searchlight. He saw them. Two figures. One holding the other close. At the far side of the building, right at the edge. He walked towards them, the blades of the helicopter creating mini twisters all around him.

Grant Parsons saw him coming, turned. He grabbed Maddy, held her in front of him like a shield. Phil kept walking. Slowly. Purposefully.

Parsons had a knife at her throat. A big knife, Phil noted.

‘Get back,' he shouted. ‘Get back…' He pushed the knife against her neck.

Phil noticed she couldn't move, that her arms were pulled tight behind her back. Tied, he thought. Her eyes were wild, staring.

‘Who am I talking to?' shouted Phil above the din of the 'copter. ‘Grant or Ben?'

‘Ben,' he shouted back. ‘It's always Ben.'

From below, Phil heard the sirens of the arriving fire engines.

‘OK, Ben,' he shouted. ‘Why don't you put the knife down. Then we can talk.'

‘I've got a better idea,' shouted Ben. He stepped up on to the parapet, put his feet right back against the edge of the building.

Phil ran forward. Ben brandished the knife once more. Maddy screamed.

‘Back! Get back!'

Phil noticed that there was a plank of wood on the parapet. It stretched across the alleyway to the next building. Parsons's escape route. He must have planned it.

Parsons edged his way towards it, Maddy stumbling along with him.

‘Your empire's burning,' said Phil. ‘It's all over. Why don't you give up, eh? Then we can talk.'

Ben shook his head. ‘No, it's better this way.'

‘You can't get away. Look down there, look above you. You're surrounded. It's over. You're finished.'

‘So?' he shouted. ‘At least I'll be famous. At least they'll remember me. At least…'

Phil wasn't sure, but he might have seen tears in Ben's eyes.

‘At least… I won't have been a failure…
He
won't think I was a failure…'

He moved even closer to the edge.

Phil heard a sudden noise from behind him. He turned. It was Sperring, opening the hatch, letting it clang against the roof. Ben had heard the noise too, turned his attention towards it.

This is it
, thought Phil.
I won't get another chance
.

He readied himself to run forward, jump at Ben, grab Maddy and pull her to safety.

But Maddy had different ideas. She screamed. Primal, angry.

‘Fuck you! Fuck you! I've had enough… being hurt, used, abused… fuck you…'

She stamped down hard on Ben's instep. He screamed in pain. Lost his footing. While he was disorientated, she brought her head forward, then let it fly back, hitting the bridge of his nose and his forehead with so much force that Phil heard the crack even above the blades of the helicopter.

Ben screamed once more, dropped the knife as he brought his hands up to his face. Maddy swung her leg forward and let it go backwards, hitting him in the shin. His footing became unsteady.

Phil ran, reached out, grabbed Maddy. Caught her by the arm. Pulled her forward, towards him, away from the edge.

Ben was weaving about in pain, eyes closed, blood fountaining from his broken nose. He staggered backwards. His heel hit the edge of the plank and he lost his balance.

‘No…'

He put his arms out, windmilling, but he couldn't fight the momentum.

He disappeared over the side.

Screaming as he went down.

Phil held Maddy to him.

‘It's OK,' he said. ‘It's OK. I've got you. You're safe.'