Time crawled by. Charlie started to wonder if this was an elaborate joke. Had the owner somehow tipped Louise off? Perhaps they were both chuckling now at the dimwit DC wasting her time on a pointless stakeout.
But then movement by the entrance. A woman in a puffa and tracksuit bottoms semi-pimp rolling into the place. Clearly a regular. A glimpse of the face and a wisp of lank blonde hair. Was it Louise?
She sashayed up to the bar and cracked a joke with the owner. A couple of words in response and she immediately turned to look at Charlie. The owner had obviously said something and there was no doubt as she peered towards the gloom at the back of the bar that it was Louise. Her eyes met Charlie’s, a split-second appraisal of the situation, then Louise Tanner turned and fled.
Charlie was swiftly after her. Louise was thirty yards ahead and running for her life. Down the narrow cobbled streets that criss-crossed this once medieval area, then across the main road and towards the freight warehouses on the Western Docks. Charlie redoubled her efforts, her lungs already starting to burn. Louise was clearly not in a good way – she had a weird lolloping run that suggested a historic injury of some kind – yet despite this she was surprisingly fast, driven on by desperation.
Charlie was only ten yards behind her when Louise suddenly darted right and into warehouse 24, a repository for Polish freight where the containers were packed sky high. Charlie changed course and charged inside. But Louise was nowhere to be seen.
Charlie cursed. She must be almost within touching distance, but with so many tiny alleyways between the containers and so many corners to hide in, where on earth should she start? She dived left, then pulled up short. She listened. Yes, there it was again. A muffled cough. Louise was a heavy smoker and the sprint would have done her smoker’s cough no good. Creeping round the back of the nearest container, she padded along softly, guided in by the concealed but persistent coughing. And there she was, with her back to her, trapped now if Charlie could only get to her.
Charlie was ten yards from her, when Louise spun round, wild-eyed and desperate. Which was when Charlie saw the knife – a stubby but nasty-looking thing which Louise thrust towards her. Charlie instinctively stepped back, for the first time realizing the danger that she had put herself – and her unborn baby – in.
Now Louise advanced upon her. Charlie sped up her retreat, furiously back-pedalling whilst urging calm.