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“In the cellar. Look, you need to get over there if you want to save her. Please, he’ll kill her. You don’t know what he’s like.”
“Is he armed?”
“There was a gun in the cellar. He made me play Russian roulette. But it was full of blanks.”
Gardener turned to Maurice Cragg. “I want an armed response team to meet me there. Robbie Carter is dangerous, possibly armed, and we could have a hostage situation.”
He glanced back at Mary. “I appreciate you must have been through an ordeal, but I would like you to stay here and tell Emma everything that happened to you.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I know you do, Mary, love,” said Longstaff. “And you will, but you must tell me everything that happened to you.”
Gardener addressed the team. “Every last one of you, in your cars. Follow us. This ends tonight.”
Outside the station the night sky was clear, the atmosphere chilly and breezy. Gardener jumped in a pool car. Reilly drove. They reached the mill house in Sowerby within twenty minutes, racing up the drive, headlights and sirens blazing.
Gardener was not surprised to find a dozen armed officers waiting for him. Four vehicles were parked across the drive, blocking any entrance or exit. All the officers were standing behind their vehicles, rifles at the ready.
Once out of the car, he flashed his warrant card. Reilly stood behind him.
One of the men stepped forward. He was taller than Gardener, slim, black hair, blue eyes, and dressed in combat gear. “Simon Mason, sir. I’m the senior commander.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Ten minutes.”
The rest of his team pulled up, each parking their cars behind his. The drive was completely blocked.
“Have you been inside?” Gardener asked
.
“No, sir. It’s your show.”
A wintry breeze skated the back of Gardener’s neck, sending a chill through him. He had no idea what to expect. He glanced at the house. The building was in darkness. It was pretty total, out there in the middle of nowhere. He could barely make out the front door. “Were there any cars here when you arrived?”
“No, sir.”
“And you haven’t seen or heard anything?”
“No, sir.”
“Have you checked the outside of the building?”
“Yes, sir, a complete full circuit. All quiet.”
“I don’t like this, Sean,” said Gardener.
“You’re not on your own.”
“Do you guys have torches?”
Simon Mason nodded, quickly producing two from one of the vehicles. Gardener took them, passed one to Reilly, and spoke to his team. “If you have torches, bring them with you.”
The senior officers set off in the direction of the house. Simon Mason followed with two of his men. He asked the rest to surround the building.
Gardener reached the front door, switched on the torch, peered into the darkened room. He was unhappy about what they were walking into. Not because he thought Robbie Carter was still there. Gardener had no doubt that he had somehow slipped the net. It was what he was good at. What he dreaded most was what the man had left behind in his wake.
