Page 84 of Her Last Breath

‘What do you think?’ she asked him.

‘There are a few derelict warehouses near the park, awaiting re-development money,’ he said. ‘Worth checking out in case Wilson is hiding out there?’

‘Let’s get uniform out there, check out the warehouses and any other places where Wilson might be. I think he’s going to try and use the cover he’ll get at night to make his escape. He knows we’ll be watching his every move.’

‘I’m going to head out and help with the search,’ DS Johnson informed her. ‘I think I could be more useful on the frontline. I know those streets.’

‘Keep me updated,’ Jane said, thinking it would be good to have DS Johnson close to the physical search.

For the next half hour Jane scanned the area using street-level images, checking for any buildings that they needed to flag for uniform. Jane felt nervous energy driving her on.

‘DC Chan, get me the Tactical Aid Unit on the line,’ Jane demanded. ‘I want them ready to trap Wilson as soon as we find him.’

Colin Wilson would not escape her clutches. She was determined to find him, wherever he was hiding.

Chapter 56

Colin Wilson heard scratching in the shadows, the unmistakable sound of rats. His own trainers were scuffing the dusty rubble-filled surface as he walked in circles, trying to work out what to do next. The gloom of the abandoned warehouse on the edge of Burnley was only broken by light pouring in through one window that had lost its blackout boards. More scuttling. He didn’t care, he’d seen much worse in DRC. Woke up to scorpions in his shoes on several occasions, snakes in his apartment. Rodents were par for the course when you lived rough. He could survive in this place for as long as he needed to.

Earlier in the day he had heard his useless colleagues tittering like the smalltown gossips they were, Alice’s name reaching his ears. He did a quick search and under the Burnley Reporter’s latest news he had seen it. First, an article describing the three deaths, then a description of a man police wanted to question that fitted him way too closely to be coincidence.

His first thought was whether he could bribe someone to get more info, see if he was being paranoid. If this were the DRC, he would know exactly who, and if the police were sniffing around him, how to make that stop as well. Here he was in unfamiliar territory. Why the hell had he ever come back?

Convinced he was the suspect that the police were looking for, Colin had checked his hidden webcam at home on his phone. The place was crawling with CSI. He felt his heart hammering so fast, he thought he might have a cardiac arrest. He disabled the webcam in case they traced it back to his current location. He had already switched off his registered phone. This was one of a number he had got hold of illegally out in the DRC.

Shit, he missed that place, where you could get shitfaced on cheap drugs and not get asked about it when the dealer ended up dead.

Panicked about where to go, he’d remembered this shithole warehouse, thanks to one of the foodbank regulars. Crazy drug-addled man who only took bread and was probably casing the joint for cash. Colin had engaged him in conversation once, out of sheer boredom. The place was populated by drunks and junkies; a place where only the truly fallen would come.

Colin froze as he heard muffled voices and movement in the rooms outside. He heard a man’s voice, authoritative and demanding. Not the slurred voices he was used to from the junkies and alcoholics. Creeping to the rusted door that separated his area of the warehouse from the abandoned storage section, he looked over at the smoking fire barrels, which were surrounded by the same lowlives he had seen on his way in. Now, however, they were flanked by a smartly dressed man, offering up his warrant card.

Colin stopped breathing as he watched the officer. He was talking to a couple of winos, his eyes darting his way. Colin jerked back into the darkness, hoping he hadn’t seen him. He risked another look, this time relief flooded through him. The police officer was walking away, empty-handed.

He was safe for a while yet.

Chapter 57

Dogs barked in the distance, baying at the prospect of finding their prey. The clear skies belied the cold air, as police teams scoured the countryside.

Jane had spread a map of the local area over the bonnet of her Toyota Corolla and was studying it intently, running her eye over the numerous abandoned buildings. She marked off those that had been covered or were being searched by the team. Her radio buzzed with static, the channel open only to officers involved in the search. Suddenly DS Johnson’s breathless voice punched through.

‘Ma’am, I think I’ve found him. Pinging you the location now.’

‘Did you get eyes on him?’ Jane asked excitedly, folding up the map and hurrying round to the driver’s door.

‘Not yet, don’t want to spook him.’

‘How can you be so sure it was him?’

‘I know this warehouse from previous cases, ma’am. It’s a proper off-the-radar dive, where you only go if you’re really desperate. I thought I’d have a look, see if anyone had spotted Wilson there. No one had, but one of the homeless guys from the warehouse grabbed me when I was leaving, told me he was hiding out in another part of the building. He said he knew Wilson from the foodbank, wanted to help out.’

‘How much did that cost you?’ Jane asked wryly, as she released the handbrake and set off, following the instructions on the satnav.

‘Twenty quid. He said Wilson had spoken to him at the foodbank, asked where he hung out. It’s probably how he knew about the place.’

In under ten minutes, Jane was on site. She looked out at the dilapidated warehouse structure, crumbling and rusted. Colin would be easily trapped if they made their move now.

As she climbed out of her car, DS Johnson hurried over to her.