Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(67)
‘Ambulance is on its way, boss.’ The sergeant leant around the door. ‘And uniform are organising an escort.’ He stared down at Micah. ‘I can’t say I’ll be sad to see that one go. He’s one scary guy!’
As the stretcher was hoisted into the back of the ambulance, Jim wondered how he was going to tell DI Jackman that he’d inadvertently hospitalised his prisoner. And even worse, how would Chief Cade react when he found out?
*
It was very late by the time Jackman and Marie concluded Benedict Broome’s second interview. He had politely but vehemently denied any knowledge of work ever having been carried out from an underground tunnel. He told them he knew nothing of any such tunnel. He also denied any knowledge of the name cards allegedly written by his housekeeper.
In the end, they called it a day. Jackman had decided to keep quiet about the killer’s singing. He agreed with Marie that it would be best to keep that piece of information to themselves until they could use it more effectively.
‘I wonder if Broome was a choirboy,’ mused Marie as they left the interview room. ‘But he didn’t grow up around here, so it would be hard to find out.’
‘Worth a try though.’ Jackman punched in the security number and flung the door open. ‘But right now, we all need sleep. Go check the team, Marie, and pack whoever is left off to their homes and their beds. Then I suggest you gather up your new lodger and get home yourself.’ He smiled at her. ‘And how is your new role as landlady going?’
‘Brilliantly! Gary actually does a cooked breakfast before he goes to work! He’s perfectly house-trained, a wizard in the kitchen, and frankly I’m thinking of keeping him on.’
‘Ah, then my Mrs M. had better watch out. Even I don’t get breakfasts.’
Marie grinned, and was about to say more when Jackman’s mobile sounded.
‘Ah, Jim! What have you got for me?’
Marie saw Jackman’s expression drop.
‘Shit! How the hell . . . ? Oh well, not your fault, Jim. I’m just sorry to have put you through it. They’ve taken him to the Pilgrim Hospital in Boston? Yeah, but make sure he’s watched twenty-four/seven, and two officers at all times. Have you got the manpower for that, or shall I get you some back-up? Right, well, thanks for trying. Night, Jim. Oh, and any aggro from your chief, refer him to me, okay?’
He closed the phone and stared grimly at Marie. ‘Micah Lee categorically denied knowing about any tunnels or underground rooms, and then he collapsed. He’s been taken in for neurological evaluation. That puts two of our three suspects out of our direct supervision, and I don’t like that one bit.’
Marie agreed, but right now, she could barely think straight. She was exhausted. ‘I’ll go sort out the others, then I’ll see you in the morning, sir. Let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?’
‘And speaking of the morning, Benedict Broome is supposed to either be released or charged at eight a.m., so I’d better get someone round to the magistrate for an extension. And considering what’s beneath that man’s property, I’ll go on getting bloody extensions until we have the truth.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
After a restless night, Jackman rose early and, taking a leaf out of Gary’s book, cooked himself a proper breakfast. He was locking the door to Mill Corner when his mobile rang.
‘Marie? Surely you’re not at work already?’
‘I am. I’m sorry to start your day like this, but we’ve got a problem.’
‘What’s wrong now?’
‘Micah Lee has done a runner from the hospital.’
‘What! How the hell did that happen?’
‘It was no one’s fault really, sir, apart perhaps from underestimating his strength.’
Jackman jumped into his car and slammed the door. It was always someone’s fault when a prisoner got away. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was after they’d got themselves into hospital. ‘Okay, tell me. Just don’t say someone left their post to go to the sodding toilet or blood may flow.’
‘No, nothing like that. They thought he was unconscious when they took him down to radiology for a scan. There were two constables and two nurses with him, but as he came out of the scanner and they went to replace the restraints, he went ballistic. He’s badly hurt one of the Boston men, concussed the other, and laid out both nurses.’
‘No!’ Jackman’s anger turned to concern. ‘How badly hurt?’
‘Suspected fractured skull, sir. Apparently he smashed their heads together. PC Bladon came off worst. PC Smythe is mildly concussed.’
‘And the hospital staff?’
‘Shaken up and bruised, but no serious injury.’
‘So where did he go? Was CCTV operational?’
‘Yes. He was seen at the rear of the hospital where he accosted a porter, took his clothes and his wallet, then went over the hospital wall and made off through residential gardens and fields towards the West Fen Catchwater Drain.’
‘So we’ve lost him?’
Jackman heard an intake of breath, then a sigh. ‘We lost him.’
‘Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen. Get me a very strong black coffee and we’ll re-group.’
Jackman hung up and gave a bitter laugh. For a while there, he’d actually been thinking today might go better!