The car glided silently away.

Angel’s breathing was heavy. He knew that plan A was down the pan, and anybody with half a brain could pull the chain. This was a far bigger operation than he had expected. He reached out for the mike. ‘Traveller One to Romeo Lima One.’

‘Romeo Lima One here, sir.’

‘Go quickly to the station, to Traffic, and get a magnetic tracer. Make sure it has a new battery and bring it back to me, smartly.’

‘On our way, sir.’

Gawber said: ‘The four men have found the back door and they’ve gone inside, sir.’

Angel peered through the binoculars. The street was quiet and deserted.

He grabbed the microphone again. ‘Traveller One to Romeo Lima Two.’

‘Romeo Lima Two here, sir.’

‘Run around the area, once only, and see if you can see where the Mercedes has toddled off to. It won’t be far away. Don’t go down the same street twice. You understand? The driver might just be sauntering round while the others are taking the flat to pieces and awaiting a signal from them, or it may be just parked up somewhere handy. But be careful. Don’t let them realize what you are doing. Drive away noisily if you think they suspect.’

‘Right, sir.’

He returned to the binoculars. Nothing moved. In the moonlight, he could just make out the lids of the wheelie bins and the glass panel in the door. There was a long, long silence. Five minutes. Ten minutes. He listened for the slightest sound. Nothing moved. There was zilch. Zero. Just the thumping of his pulse. It was so quiet, still and in moonlight … as if it was the final day on earth.

Then the RT crackled. ‘Romeo Lima Two here, sir. Can’t see the car anywhere, sir. Been all round.’

‘All right. Get back in position.’

‘Right, sir.’

Angel returned to the window and peered upwards. ‘I wonder how they’re getting along up there?’

‘They must have been in the flat about twelve minutes,’ Gawber added.

Angel brushed a sweaty hand through his hair. That was a long time in this business. It was much longer than he expected them to be. They must have felt pretty confident to have taken so long. He leaned forward to the microphone. ‘Traveller One to Romeo Lima One. How much longer are you going to be?’

‘On our way, sir.’

‘Yeah, but what’s your ETA?’

‘About two minutes, sir.’

‘Make it one. Come in quietly. I’ll meet you on foot on Chapel Street … at the first ginnel. Has that thing got a fresh battery?’

‘Fitted while we waited, sir.’

‘See you in a minute.’

‘Right, sir.’

Gawber stared towards Angel. He couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re not going out, sir, on your own?’ he breathed.

Angel stood up. ‘The Merc’s not back yet. I’m hoping I’ve time.’

‘You can’t go out, sir. You’ll be seen!’

‘Only if anybody’s looking,’ he said and he opened the door and slipped out on the pavement.

‘But, sir,’ Gawber protested.

He could have saved his breath.

It was bright. There was a lot of moon and no sign of a cloud.

Angel knew that there was no possible chance of not being seen walking down the street if anybody had been watching, so he walked boldly along to the corner of Rotherham Road. It was only a few yards onto Chapel Street, and only a few more to where Romeo Lima One had been hiding. Seconds later, the car arrived. Seeing him, it slowed. The front nearside window was down. He held out his hand and was handed a metal disc about the diameter of a truncheon and as thick as a bullet. ‘Thanks, lad.’

‘Good luck, sir.’

He pushed it into his pocket and retraced his steps boldly to the observation van. There was still no sign of any members of the gang or of the Mercedes. He sighed with relief as he stepped noiselessly into the van and closed the door.

There was a crackle from the RT. ‘The Merc’s back, sir. It’s coming your way.’

‘Right. Ta,’ Angel replied.

Almost immediately, the big black car pulled across the window of the observation van.

Angel silently slid the door of the van open, and made his way along the pavement and onto the road, crouching down at the rear of the observation van.

At the same time, four men dashed out of the flats across the road to the Mercedes; all four doors were opened, a man entered through each door, and then they closed them almost as one, like an army drill.

That was Angel’s cue. He knew he had less than a second. He darted from behind the observation van, crouched down and placed the magnetic tracking device under the nearside wheel arch of the Mercedes, and at the same time received a face full of exhaust fumes. He fell backwards onto his rear as the Mercedes sped away along Rotherham Road.

CHAPTER TEN

Angel stood the team down, returned to the station, handed his gun into the desk sergeant to be held in safe-custody until the armourer came on duty, went home and was in bed for 2 a.m. He had almost six hours sleep, an easy breakfast with Mary and was back in the office as fresh as a home-baked bap by 8.28 a.m.

As he walked into the office, his phone was ringing. He raised his eyebrows as he leaned over the desk and picked up the handset. It was Harker.

‘I want you, lad,’ the superintendent bawled. ‘Come up here, smartish.’ Then there was a loud click; the line went dead. Angel replaced the phone and wrinkled up his nose. He wondered what sort of a flea had got in Harker’s vest that early in the morning. He sounded threatening and was obviously in a bad mood.

‘What do you think you are playing at?’ Harker roared as he entered the office.

Angel stared back at him, sitting behind his desk looking like an orang-utan with toothache. The vein on his left temple throbbed at the beat of The Ritual Fire Dance.

Angel sighed, closed the door and came up to the desk.

‘What’s the matter, sir?’

‘I understand that you’ve put a young lass and her child in the safe house up at Beechfield Walk.’

‘Yes, sir. Well, it was the only safe thing to do. She is the mother of an eighteen-month child and—’

‘A one-parent family, eh?’

‘I believe so, sir.’

‘Oh I see. You’re fancying a bit of young easy skirt, is that it?’

Angel’s jaw tightened. ‘No, sir. I was setting a trap to catch the man whom I think is Harrison’s murderer, a Simon Spencer,’ he said. ‘This young woman might have been in the line of fire. It was for one night only. She can return back to her flat this morning.’

‘You realize that it has taken WPC Baverstock off her regular duties to play nursemaid to this lass and her offspring, don’t you?’

‘Well, I knew that somebody would have to—’

‘And did you think of the cost? And the shortage of officers?’ He suddenly stopped. ‘What trap? Who did you catch?’

‘I didn’t catch anybody, sir. But I enticed a bigger fish than—’

‘A bigger fish? Who? Who?’ he yelled excitedly.

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Angel said trying to control his temper. ‘It was obviously an organized gang of four men and a driver, armed to the teeth. We couldn’t possibly have taken them on. They were tooled up and ready for a fight. A commitment there and then would have resulted in a blood bath.’

Harker threw up his arms.

‘Well, where are they? Who are they? You talk grand, but you’ve let them get away.’

Angel sighed.

‘We had to remain concealed, sir, but I put a tracking device on their car. I was about to phone DS Mallin in Traffic to find out where their car is now.’

Harker’s face changed. The tirade stopped.

‘Hmmm,’ he grunted thoughtfully. It seemed to please him. He sat down and rubbed his chin. Then he reached out for the phone and tapped in a number.

Standing in front of the desk, Angel could hear a distorted reply through the earpiece.

‘Mallin? You’re monitoring a tracking device for DI Angel. Has it come to rest yet, and if so, whereabouts?’ Harker said.