Deception on His Mind (Inspector Lynley, #9)(219)

And Barbara understood why Emily had vetoed the idea of the Coast Guard. Their boats carried no weapons; their officers weren't armed. And the DCI was calling for the department's Armed Response Vehicle.

Shit, Barbara thought fervently. She tried to drive from her mind the picture of Hadiyyah caught in a crossfire of bullets. “Come on,” she said to Azhar again.

“What's she …?”

“She's going after him. We're going as well.” It was, Barbara thought, the best bet she could make to keep the worst from happening to her little London friend.

Emily stode through the weight room with Azhar and Barbara hard on her heels. Behind the station, she took possession of a panda car. She had it started, its lights revolving, by the time Barbara and Azhar climbed in.

Emily looked at the two of them. “He stays,” she said. And to Azhar, “Get out.” And when the man didn't move fast enough, she snarled, “Goddamn it, I said get out. I've had enough of you. I've had enough of all of you. Get out of the car.”

Azhar looked to Barbara. Barbara couldn't tell what he wanted of her, and even had she known, she couldn't have given it. Compromise was the best she could offer. She said, “We'll get her, Azhar. Stay here.”

He said, “Please. Allow me. She's all that I have. She's all that I love.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Tell that to the wife and kids in Houn-slow. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to hear the news. Now, get out, Mr. Azhar, before I call for an officer to help you do it.”

Barbara swung round in her seat. “Azhar,” she said. He tore his gaze from the DCI. “I love her, too. I'll bring her back. You wait here.”

Reluctantly, as if the effort cost him everything he had, the man got out of the car. When he'd shut the door, Emily tramped on the accelerator. They shot out of the car park and into the street. Emily flipped on the siren.

“What the f*ck were you thinking?” she demanded. “What kind of cop are you?”

They roared to the top of Martello Road. Traffic in the High Street halted. They bore right and tore in the direction of the sea.

“How many times could you have told me the truth in the last four days? Ten? A dozen?”

“I would have told you, but—”

“Stuff it,” Emily said. “Don't bother to explain.”

“When you asked me to liaise, I should have told you. But you would've pulled back, and I would've been in the dark. I was worried about them. He's a university professor. I thought he was in way over his head.”

“Oh yeah,” Emily scoffed. “He's in as much over his head as I am.”

“I didn't know that. How could I have known?”

“You tell me.”

She veered into Mill Lane. A delivery van was parked too far into the street, with its driver loading cardboard boxes marked TYPOGRAPHIC onto a dolly. Emily dodged to miss both the van and its driver. She steered the car onto the pavement with a curse. The car knocked over a dust bin and a bicycle. Barbara grabbed for the dashboard as Emily jerked the vehicle back into the street.

“I didn't know he did all this legal stuff on the side. I only knew him as my neighbour. I knew he was coming here. Yes, right. But he didn't know I'd follow him. I know his daughter, Em. She's a friend.”

“An eight-year-old friend? Jesus. Spare me this part of the tale.”

“Em—”

“Just bloody shut up, all right?”

Back at Balford Marina for the second time that day, they grabbed a loud hailer from the panda's boot and sprinted across the car park to East Essex Boat Hire. Charlie Spencer confirmed that Muhannad Malik had taken out a motor boat. “A nice little diesel for a proper long ride. Had a cute little doll with him as well,” Charlie said. “His cousin, she told me. Never been in a boat before. She was all in a dither about going for a sail.”

By Charlie's reckoning, Muhannad had a forty-minute start on them and had the diesel boat he'd chosen been a fishing craft, he'd have got not much farther than the point at which Pennyhole Bay met the North Sea. But the craft he was sailing had more power than a fishing boat and enough range to take him all the way to the continent. They'd need a real fighter to challenge him, and Emily saw it gleaming in the sunlight from its position above the pontoon where Charlie had it winched out of the water.

“I'll have the Sea Wizard,” she said.

Charlie gulped. He said, “Hang on. I don't know—”

“You don't have to know,” Emily told him. “You just have to get it into the water and hand over the keys. This is a police matter. You've hired a boat to a murderer. The kid's his hostage. So put the Sea Wizard into the water and give me a pair of binoculars as well.”

Charlie's mouth dropped open at this piece of news. He handed over the keys. By the time he'd accompanied Emily and Barbara down the pontoon and had lowered the Hawk 31 into the water, the police Armed Response Vehicle was pulling into the car park, lights flashing and siren wailing.

PC Fogarty came on the run. He had a holstered pistol in one hand and a carbine in the other.

“Give us a hand, Mike,” Emily ordered as she leapt aboard the boat. She began tearing off the protective blue canvas, exposing the cockpit. She tossed this over her shoulder and shoved the keys into the ignition. By the time PC Fogarty had gone below to scout out the nautical charts, Emily was purging the fumes from the engine compartment. Within two minutes, she was gunning the motor.