‘Charing Cross Hospital. She’s still in surgery.’
Sean checked his watch. ‘I’ll be there in less than an hour.’
He hung up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, staggering a little as he stood. Kate noticed it.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked.
‘Sally’s been attacked. In her own flat. She sounds bad. I’ve got to get to Charing Cross Hospital.’
‘Oh my God. Who would want to hurt Sally?’ Sean looked at her without speaking. ‘Not the man you’re after?’ Kate asked. ‘You told me they never came after police.’
‘This one’s different.’
‘Different how?’
‘In every way imaginable,’ Sean said. ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Get a shower,’ she insisted. ‘Then I’ll drive you.’
‘No. I’m fine.’
Kate was already out of bed. ‘I’m phoning Kirsty. She can watch the kids till morning.’
‘Don’t bother,’ he argued. ‘I can drive myself.’
She grabbed the sides of his face in her hands and locked eyes with him. ‘The last thing Sally needs is for you to drive under a bus pissed. I’ll drive you. After you’ve had a shower to sort yourself out.’
Sean knew she would have her way. He headed for the shower, reeling under the effects of the shock. He had to call Donnelly. The team needed to know what had happened. Any one of them could be next.
By the time Kate had driven them to Charing Cross Hospital the last effects of the alcohol had almost faded. Kate and he met the uniformed inspector in the Casualty Department waiting room. He was with a female uniformed sergeant. Sean introduced himself to the inspector. He didn’t introduce Kate and the inspector didn’t introduce the sergeant.
‘Where is she?’ Sean sounded harsh. ‘Can I see her?’
‘No. She’s still in surgery,’ the inspector told him. ‘It’ll be a few hours before anyone can see her.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘She hasn’t spoken since the neighbour found her. All we know is she was attacked in her own flat. And she has two very serious stab wounds to her chest, both on the right side. It’s a life-threatening situation, but she’s holding on.’
‘Who’s the neighbour?’
The sergeant referred to her notebook: ‘George Fuller. Ex-paratrooper captain. Now works for the local council. Found her at about eleven, slumped in the communal area against his door. Two chest wounds. The knife was still in her.’ She glanced up from her notes in time to see Sean wince. ‘Mr Fuller was a medic in his army days. He used Sellotape and plastic shopping bags to seal the wounds and keep her chest cavity air-tight. The admitting casualty doctor said he had undoubtedly saved her life.’
‘Where is he now?’ Sean wanted to see the man who had saved Sally.
‘He went home,’ the inspector answered. ‘He insisted on coming with DS Jones in the ambulance, but I sent him home a little while ago.’
‘What’s happened to her flat?’ Sean asked.
‘Nothing,’ said the inspector. ‘We’ve sealed it off for the time being.’
‘Good. Post a guard on the flat. No one is allowed in without my say so.’
The inspector looked quizzical. ‘I’m sorry, but this is a local matter. Our CID will be in charge of the investigation. The scene’s secure. There’s no need to guard it.’
‘Wrong.’ Sean was feeling angry and tired. He didn’t want his instructions to be questioned. ‘I’m the officer in charge of this investigation. Any problems with that, phone Detective Superintendent Featherstone, Serious Crime Group South.’ He gambled the inspector wouldn’t. Not at this hour. ‘I’ll liaise with your CID and put them in the picture.’
Sean could see the inspector needed more. ‘This attack is linked to a series of murders I’m investigating. DS Jones was part of that inquiry team. Whoever committed those murders is the same man who attacked her. So get me the guard on the flat,’ Sean demanded. ‘What security have you put in place here?’
‘I’ve posted a uniformed officer to stay with her,’ the inspector explained.
‘I want at least two officers watching her,’ Sean insisted.
‘I’ll do what I can.’ The inspector looked shaken.
Sean spied Donnelly thundering along the corridor. He charged up to them.
‘That bastard’s dead,’ were his first words. ‘I’ll tell you that for nothing. He’s going straight out the fifth-floor window. Aye, I fucking promise you that.’ His Scots accent had suddenly grown stronger.
Sean held a hand up and was on the verge of telling him to calm down when he was distracted by his mobile ringing.
‘Sean Corrigan.’
‘It’s DS Colville, sir. Sorry about the time, but I thought you’d want to know, Hellier’s just arrived home.’
Sean and Donnelly approached Hellier’s house. The local night-duty CID had arrived to assist them. That made four of them in total. They met in the street, fifty metres short of the house. They swapped names and shook hands.
‘Is this it?’ Sean asked. He had hoped the local station, Islington, would have provided more assistance.
‘We’ve already got a couple of uniform lads hiding round the back,’ one of the DCs informed him.
Donnelly looked at Sean. ‘Your call, boss. We could wait for back-up. We could have a firearms team within an hour.’
Sean would have preferred to take Hellier by himself, have some time alone with him. Clearly he didn’t have the guts to come after him or Donnelly, so he went for Sally. Well now they’d come after him.
‘Let’s do it,’ Sean said. ‘No more waiting.’
The younger Islington detective opened the boot of their car and pulled out a heavy metal battering ram. It was known as an Enforcer. ‘We brought this,’ he announced. ‘Just in case.’
‘Shame to waste it,’ Sean said grimly. ‘Listen, he may not look much, but he’s killed at least three people already. And now he’s gone after one of ours. Don’t drop your guard.’
They all nodded their understanding and walked silently but rapidly towards the house. Carefully they opened the black wrought-iron gate and moved to the front door. There were three stone steps. The older detective spoke to the officers at the rear of the house on the radio, his voice just above a whisper.
‘Units at the rear. Units at the rear. We’re going in through the front.’
The radio crackled but they all heard the reply. ‘Understood and standing by, over.’
The young detective holding the Enforcer nodded to Sean. Sean counted him down with his fingers. Three. Two. One. The detective smashed the Enforcer into the centre door lock. It exploded, but the door held. It had top and bottom deadlocks. He stood and hit the top lock hard. The door began to flap open. He crouched and took out the final lock. The door imploded.
They poured in through the door holding extendible metal truncheons and screaming, ‘Police! Police! Police!’
Sean and Donnelly ran to the staircase. The Islington detectives ran through the ground floor. As Sean neared the top of the stairs Hellier appeared. Sean saw him just in time. He partially avoided the kick aimed at his head. It stung his cheekbone as it impacted. He slumped against the staircase wall