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Hannah looked at the camera, her voice trembling. ‘They want you to know,’ she said, ‘that this bomb I am wearing can be triggered remotely. Any attempt to do anything other than what you are instructed to do and it will be detonated. Likewise if you attempt to deliver fake diamonds. They will be examined and if they are not genuine the device will be detonated. If police are there again as they were this morning, the device will be detonated.’
She let the paper fall to the floor as tears welled in her large, terrified eyes.
‘Please help me,’ she added in a desperate whisper.
The screen faded to blackness again.
Hannah was begging for help – that was genuine. She believed that they had strapped explosives to her and would kill her if we didn’t comply with their instructions.
Something had happened between yesterday and today.
What?
My mobile phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and answered it.
‘What have you got for me, Suzy?’ I listened and nodded. ‘Sit on him,’ I said. ‘I’ll be right there.’
I clicked my phone shut and stood up, grabbing my jacket.
‘Something happening?’ asked Wendy Lee.
‘Laura Skelton just had a visitor. One of the rugby guys from Friday night.’
Adrian Tuttle stood up. ‘You want some backup?’ he said. He was being serious.
‘No, you’re all right,’ I answered. ‘Suzy and I should be able to handle it.’
‘What would you do if he turned nasty, Adrian?’ asked Wendy Lee. ‘Distract him with some origami?’
‘I’ve got some moves,’ he said. Striking a pose. He looked like an emaciated heron.
‘Just work the data,’ I said. ‘Something’s there. Something’s not right.’
Chapter 88
DETECTIVE INSPECTORS KIRSTY Webb and Natalie James jumped out of their parked car and slammed the doors behind them.
An ambulance was pulled up outside the house that they had been about to call at and a couple of police cars were parked beside it. Lights flashing. Crime-scene tape about to cordon off the area.
Kirsty Webb felt a sinking feeling in her gut again as they hurried up to the door. She always seemed to be one step behind on this case. A couple of uniformed officers were standing outside. Kirsty and DI James showed them their warrant cards.
‘What’s happened?’
‘You here to see Alistair Lloyd? The surgeon?’ asked one of the uniforms. A petite woman in her mid-twenties.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re too late, I’m afraid. He performed a …’ she hesitated ‘… a minor procedure, then topped himself.’
‘What kind of procedure?’
The other officer grimaced. ‘He cut off one of his fingers with a samurai sword. And then fell on it. The sword, not the finger.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah. There’s quite a bit of blood.’ She nodded at DI James. ‘Your boss has been trying to get hold of you. He’s inside.’
The two DIs, walked into the house. It was a bungalow, almost open-plan. A small hall led into a large lounge-and-kitchen area. Several doors led off it. The one on the far right was open and bursts of bright light flashed from the room behind it.
