Mark gestured to Charlie. Instinctively they both turned off their radios and phones, and crept towards the building. One of the boards on the windows was loose – this could be the perfect hiding place for someone who wanted to come and go unseen.
Charlie and Mark climbed inside, levering themselves over the rotting windowsill as quietly as possible. Inside, the place was crumbling and deserted, a shell of the busy and vibrant place it had once been before the new city centre hospital sealed its fate. Charlie removed her baton from her belt and readied herself for action. Her hand was shaking – was she ready for this? Too late now. They crept forward, expecting to be jumped at any moment.
Then a sudden movement. Tanner in hoody and trackies bursting from her hiding place and through some swing doors. Mark and Charlie gave chase, busting a gut to get into the corridor and after their prize. Bang! They crashed through the doors, but were already twenty yards behind Tanner.
Bursting into the stairwell, they looked up to see Tanner taking the stairs three at a time. They sprinted after her, Mark pulling ahead in his determination to bag her. Up, up, up. Then another crash.
By the time they caught up they were on the fourth floor. Had she gone left or right? The swing doors to the left swayed slightly. Left it was. Mark eased the doors open and they slipped inside.
Empty. But there were doors at the other end – none of them moving – and four rooms off. She could be in any one of them. If she was, she was trapped now. They tried one, then another. Then another. Only one left.
Bang! It all happened so quickly that Charlie’s brain could hardly process it. A metal pipe crashed on to Mark’s head from behind and he crumpled to the floor. Charlie swung her baton hard at Tanner – it connected with the metal pipe with a harsh clang. She thrashed at her again and again, as Tanner parried the blows.
Except it wasn’t Tanner. This should have been apparent by the way she’d leapt up the stairs during the chase. And from the cunning she’d demonstrated in getting them to choose the wrong corridor, before sneaking up behind them. It wasn’t Tanner, it was their killer and Charlie was now face to face with her.
It was time to take the fight to the enemy. Ordering the startled Bridges to assemble the team, Helen pulled out her mobile phone and dialled Charlie’s number. Voicemail. Cursing, she rang Mark’s. Voicemail again. What the hell were they playing at? Helen left a hurried message, then headed for the incident room.