Shallow Waters (25 page)

85

She
stirred from sleep. Her eyelids were heavy and she struggled to
remember where she was. A flicker of knowledge moved somewhere within
and she sighed. A sigh which would have been deep and from her soul if
her now lifeless frame had the energy to dig that far, but instead a
small shudder escaped her and another small grasp on hope slipped away.
She forced her eyes open. The wires blurred in front of her and the
darkness pressed in, almost suffocating. She couldn't focus and her
head screamed. There was a feeling that her eyeballs were being pulled
back into her head. Her mouth was dry, her tongue like Velcro against
the roof of her mouth. She closed her eyes again. The pain in her head
sucked away at her thoughts. She wanted to sleep, to fall into the
darkness and leave this pain and isolation. She felt she had lost
something but couldn't bring it to mind. Sleep dragged her down, she
couldn't fight it and she didn't want to. It was all she had now. Sleep
and darkness.

86

The
road was quiet other than the sound of the rain on cars and windows.
Most of the houses on the street had their curtains closed and lights
on. A few were in total darkness. Aaron, Sally, Ross and I were sat in
our car waiting for everyone to pull up. Martin was in a vehicle with
Clive, Nima and Kev and the extra staff required were in a marked van.
The dog men were in their cars. We had decided to park at the end of
the street and walk the short distance to the house. We didn't want to
alert the occupants of the address to our presence before we were
ready. This was going to be risky, making sure we secured the offender
and safely located any child that may be present. I was concerned but
assured. Aaron looked his usual stoic self with maybe a hint of extra
determination set in his face. Sally was in the back of our car,
straight in her seat, alert and keen. Her hand touched the tip of the
asp – metal extendible baton – tucked into her jeans. Ross, also in the
back, looked like an excitable family puppy, but the nerves that I so
often force down as an officer of rank, Ross as a newly qualified
detective still openly showed. He was dressed as most plain clothes
cops dress when executing warrants of any description. He had on a
scruffy tee-shirt hanging over his jeans, where he kept his rigid cuffs
in his back pocket and dirty, once white trainers on his feet. While
Ross had managed to make the change into jeans, I still wore a dark
suit and sensible flat boots. We were so stereotypical if you chose to
look at us.  

Everyone
had their goals and targets. Aaron and I, along with Clive and Kev
would go through the front door with an entry team, while Martin,
Sally, Ross and Nima would cover the back door.

We
left the cars and took to our pre-agreed positions around the old
semi-detached. We wore earpieces on our radios to avoid alerting our
presence to anyone with the squawking of commentaries through
hand-helds.  The earpieces usually annoyed me, but I was so hyped
up that I barely noticed it. My focus was on finding this girl here,
and finding her still alive. I held onto hope. That hope was now mixed
with trepidation and anxiety. I realigned my stab vest and looked at
the team by the front door. It was impossible to see what was happening
inside the house with all the curtains closed. There was a light on in
the front window and another upstairs. I was worried about what was in
there and how this would play out. I put my hands to my waist and ran
them around my belt, feeling for my kit. Everything was there. We were
ready.

87

I
took a moment and a deep breath. Time slowed. All eyes were on me
waiting for the command to go. What were we going to find in there?
Would the girl still be alive or would we be recovering a body? I let
the breath go slowly, my colleagues still waiting. I nodded my head,
raised my radio and advised the rear team. We were go.

The
metal enforcer slammed against the lock and the door shifted and
groaned. It didn't give completely. Dan Colson swung his thick set arms
back and, grunting, he slammed the red enforcer back into the door.
This time it cracked and splintered under the pressure. I levered
myself forward shouting “Police!” as I entered the house. Echoes of
“police!” followed me. I could hear the same sound coming from
somewhere in front of me as the rear entry team made their way into the
address. Ahead of me were the stairs. To the left was an internal door.
I pushed on the handle. Inside the living room our man was raising
himself from the sofa, a laptop open on a small coffee table in front
of him. Donovan Manders, the man behind all this death and destruction.
He was half-sat, half-stood, his body stooped, his eyes wide and his
face white. The couple of seconds it took me to reach him gave him time
to right himself; he stood with his shoulders back and his fists
clenched at his side.

I
was fast. “Don't make a move.” I grabbed hold of his wrist, hoping he
would decide to try to resist. I didn't need much of a reason to use
force to restrain him. Pulling the speed-cuffs out of my belt I pushed
one down on his wrist, the metal cuffs locking their jaws securely
around it. I grabbed his second wrist and pulled it around hard, his
shoulder forced back with the action as I secured him. He was shouting,
making protestations I barely registered amongst all the other sounds
in the house as officers continued to enter. “Donovan Manders, I am
arresting you on suspicion of human trafficking for sexual exploitation
and for inciting the murders of Rosie Green, Allison Kirk and Isabelle
Thomas. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence
if you do not mention when questioned...” I went on with the caution.
It rolled off my tongue. We had him. We actually had him. I heard heavy
footfalls going up the stairs, echoes of “police” still being shouted.
Manders decided to pay attention to the caution issued and stopped
talking.

88

Sally
felt the fluttering in her stomach as she stood in the rear garden
waiting for the entry team to make their move on the front door. She
didn't know if it was nerves or if she could feel the baby moving.
She'd read somewhere that the first kicks feel like a butterfly, but
she couldn't remember at what stage that was. It was probably too
early. She decided the odd sensation must be nerves. She wasn't usually
nervous at jobs like this. It was an arrest and search, she'd done
many, but she knew how upset Tom was going to be. He would be raging
when he found out she hadn't disclosed the pregnancy and worse still,
was out on a job. It would be okay though. She was only a part of the
rear entry team and the only time anything ever happened as part of the
rear entry team was if the people inside decided they were going to leg
it out the back door before the front entry team could get hold of
them. She would be fine if she had to run, but with four of them at the
rear door, they were creating a straight barrier anyway and it was
unlikely she was going to be involved in any chases. If anyone came out
this way, they would run straight into them. She shifted on her feet.
The fluttering made her uncomfortable.

“Okay?” Ross asked, looking at her. He couldn't know just by looking at her, could he?

“Yes, I'm fine, itching to get in.”

Ross accepted this and turned to concentrate on the door and his mission.

The
fluttering wouldn't give. They were in the house, the nerves were
supposed to stop now. The kitchen was quiet, no one was in here. The
sounds of the arrest and search team working through the front of the
house and up the stairs were clearly heard. She would have a lot of
things to explain to Tom later, but confrontation was not going to be
one of them.

Doors
were opened and checked, including a walk-in pantry and one leading
into the dining room. Sally had noticed a door off to the side of the
house’s main rear entrance. She looked at Ross and Nima as they
searched through the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and drawers. Nima
even, quite morosely, looked inside the freezer. She knew it had to be
done, but it set her butterflies off again. She needed to find this
girl alive and save her, not find her pieces shoved into some suburban
appliance.

She stepped back out of the rear door. She jumped as she heard, “Leaving already?” Ross grinned like an idiot at her.

“There's some kind of outhouse, I'm going to check.”

Ross's
smile slipped and he tilted his head as he looked at her. “You okay
Sally. You look a bit off it today. In fact you haven't been right for
a few days, but right now, well, I don't know, it's odd you know.”

She
paused. Amazed by the fact that he had even picked up on it. He gave
the impression he wasn't paying attention to much that went on around
him. Another relationship she hadn't given credit to. She spent a lot
of time with him and she should have figured out she could confide in
him. “I know Ross. I'll explain it all tomorrow. I promise.

“Want me to come with?”

“No, its fine. I don't imagine it will be a very large space to check out. I won't be long.”

“Okay, shout if you need anything.” He smiled again. This time with a more genuine feel to it.

Sometimes
his never ending enthusiasm and happiness were a pain in the arse, but
sometimes he surprised her and showed her depths she didn't think he
possessed. She would have that honest conversation with him
tomorrow. 

She
pushed down on the handle and the unlocked door squealed open. She
found herself at the top of some steep steps with a row of small bulbs
on the side, lighting the way down. The fluttering grew. She could find
the girl. She could be down here. She had to get to her and fast. They
had been searching far too long and there was no way of knowing what
damage had been caused. Palms flat out on the narrow stone walls to
keep her balance, Sally took the steps down.

89

My
phone vibrated in my pocket. I thought it would be Grey or Walker doing
a very untimely request for an update, but an unrecognised number was
showing on the caller ID screen. I gripped the rigid bar of the
handcuffs between Manders’ wrists and twisted them towards me, causing
the metal cuffs to dig in. I wanted him to know he was still securely
restrained and would not be going anywhere even though I was taking a
call. He made complaint but didn't make an effort to move. With my left
hand I put the phone to my ear.

“Hello.” I was sharp. This wasn't the time.

“DI Robbins?”

“Yes. What.” I kept my eyes on Manders.

“Inspector,
it's Tom Poynter, Sally's husband. I'm worried. I've called the station
to speak with her as her mobile is turned off and they said she is out
on a warrant. Making an arrest?” The concern carried in his voice, but
I didn't understand it and I was running out of patience. How had such
a personal call had made it through to my mobile at a time like this?

“Yes Tom, she is here. She's okay, but I have to go.”

He
erupted in my ear. “What do you mean she's there and she's okay? You're
taking her into a dangerous situation in her condition. What kind of
supervisor are you?”

Her condition?
“What do you mean, in her condition?”

“Her pregnancy. The baby. She told you.” Tom’s voice was now cracking.

Baby?
Sally hadn't told me about a baby. What the hell was going on? I would
never have let her come into this if I'd known she was carrying a baby.
“Pregnant?” I repeated into the phone. “You're sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure!” A further outburst, then a question “She said she'd told you days ago?”

“There's
an unborn baby in the house?” Manders twisted around straining on the
cuffs and whispered, the corners of his mouth curling up. I turned the
centre bar of the rigid cuffs so hard he squealed. No one in the room
paid attention.

My
mind was doing cartwheels. How could she do this? I had to get her
removed from this house now. Later we would have strong words. “Tom,
I'm going to get her out now. Then I will get her to call you as soon
as she is. Understand?”

He sounded less angry and more confused, quieter “Yes. Thank you.”

I ended the call and pushed the phone back into my pocket. Damn her. She knew better. Damn!

I
pushed on Manders’ cuffs forcing him to step forward towards Aaron who
was looking through some photographs on the windowsill. He turned to
look at me. “Sally's pregnant.” It's all I had to say, Aaron grabbed
the cuffs holding Manders still and I headed to the back of the house
to find Sally and get her out. I'd try not to bawl her out in the
middle of the operation. I'd leave that until we got back to the
station. What was she thinking? Coming into a live operation like this,
carrying a baby.

90

The
fluttering in Sally's stomach turned into a knotty uncomfortable
feeling. The walls she clung to were damp and cold and the staircase
she was heading down steep, the bare concrete of each step narrow with
not much in the way of footing; it dipped in the middle from many years
of extensive foot traffic. She had to keep going, no matter what she
would find there. If there was even the slightest possibility that the
girl could be down here, she had to check. She moved her hand from the
right wall and steadied herself with her left, putting her right hand
on her flat stomach. A habit she now recognised she had formed. She
would tell Hannah everything once they were back to their home station.
She thought she might even take some time off. Tom was right, the blast
had knocked the wind from her sails and a little time getting back on
her feet would do her good. It would also make Tom happy.

At
the bottom of the stairs was an old rotting wooden door. It had a bolt
across the outside, but the bolt wasn't fastened. Sally grasped the
handle and took a breath. Was there really anything to fear down here?
She was probably overreacting, but she had promised Tom she would be
safe, so she pulled out her asp and flicked it, the friction causing
the baton to extend to its full length and lock into place. She lifted
her wrist upwards, laying the asp back down along her forearm so if
there was anyone in there they wouldn't see it and be afraid. She
turned the handle. It wasn't as she had expected. She had imagined the
space to consist of a bare concrete floor and perhaps old household
junk stored, but it was fitted much more like a living room, with
carpet and floor length curtains up against a small window near the top
of the rear wall. There was a chair in the corner, but it was what she
saw in front of her that stopped her in her tracks as her brain
struggled to process the sight.

A
dog cage was in the middle of the room. Inside it, staring directly at
her, was the girl she had seen in the image. She had found her. She was
alive.  As Sally took a step towards her the girl attempted to
push away, eyes wide.

“Hey,
it's okay,” Sally lowered her voice. She was here. The journey was
over. The girl was safe, the man responsible was being held upstairs
and she could go home and know that she wouldn't be leaving the station
on any other jobs for the next seven months. She crouched in front of
the cage and put the asp on the floor at the side of her. Reaching out,
her fingertips had barely touched the wire of the cage when she became
aware of a rapid movement in the corner of her eye.