Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Helen marched towards her bike, keeping half an eye on the house behind her. Only once she was sure she was no longer in sight of the Reynolds home did she pull the brake light from her pocket, tossing it into a nearby bin. She had removed it whilst Jackie Reynolds visited the gym, but in the end this had proved an unnecessary precaution. Faced with a police badge and the prospect of public embarrassment, Jackie Reynolds had folded quickly, inviting Helen inside.

Satisfied with her morning's work, Helen climbed back onto her Kawasaki, ready to race back to Southampton Central. But as she did so, her radio squawked into life. Immediately, she recognized Charlie's breathless tones.

‘Suspect spotted heading east on Millbrook Road West. Repeat, Ryan Marwood spotted on Millbrook Road West. Officers Brooks and Jennings in pursuit.'

Suddenly all thoughts of returning to base evaporated. Firing up the engine, Helen roared away down the quiet suburban street, determined to be in on the chase.

Racing through the city with the blues and twos blaring was an exhilarating experience, but nothing beat riding on two wheels, dancing in and out of the city's heavy traffic as if it wasn't there. Normally it would take ten minutes or more to get from Bitterne Park to the Western Docks, but Helen managed it in four, keeping her speed assertive and steady. Now that they had Marwood in their sights, there was no question of letting him escape again.

Swinging past an articulated lorry, Helen sped along Millbrook Road, heading swiftly in a westerly direction. She could already hear the sound of sirens up ahead, knew she was getting close and readied herself for action, her eyes sweeping the road, searching for their prize. A flash of blue in the middle distance as Charlie's pool car finally came into view and then she saw him, a shadowy figure in dark blue, sprinting along the pavement. She could instantly see what his plan was. Coming up fast on his left was a residential cul-de-sac, with bollards at the top to stop vans and trucks using it as a cut-through. If Marwood could make it there, he would at least force Charlie and Jennings to abandon their car, wiping out their advantage in a stroke.

There was no way Helen could allow that, so cutting across her lane, she mounted the central reservation. Instantly she was thrown forward in her seat, as rubber connected with concrete, but gripping the fuel tank with her knees, she managed to stay aboard her ride, the bike landing safely on the other side. Now the danger doubled as she was riding against the oncoming traffic, a huge truck blaring out its horn as it roared towards her. For a second, it seemed as though a savage impact was inevitable, but as Helen ripped back the throttle, the bike leapt forward, narrowly missing the oncoming truck before mounting the pavement beyond. Now Helen jammed on the brakes, the bike bucking to a violent stop just in front of the brightly painted bollards.

Killing the engine, Helen dismounted. She was at the mouth of the cul-de-sac and looking up, she noticed that a stunned Ryan Marwood had skidded to a halt not twenty yards from her, his escape plans now in tatters. Terrified, he turned on his heel, but as he did so, Charlie pulled her car off the road behind him, blocking the pavement, cutting off his retreat.

‘Come on, Ryan, let's do this the easy way …'

Helen was already advancing down the street towards him, her helmet off, warrant card in hand. But the fugitive had no intention of complying, looking around desperately for any means of escape. His options were running out, however. Helen was bearing down on him from the front, Charlie and Jennings from the rear and, unless he wanted to run into the moving traffic, that left him with only one option. Realizing this, Marwood darted left into the Maltings Business Park, scurrying as fast as he could towards the clutch of industrial buildings that loomed over the Western Docks.

Dropping her helmet, Helen raced after him, confident that this was a fight Marwood couldn't win. He was young but in poor physical shape. Surely a lengthy pursuit would only end one way? As if reading her thoughts, Marwood suddenly changed direction, cutting sharp right, momentarily throwing Helen off course. She'd assumed he'd try to cut through the industrial estate, which connected to residential streets on the other side, but realizing that he wouldn't make it that far, the fugitive diverted towards the concrete husk of an office block close by, which was only partway through construction. Burly builders in hard hats and hi-vis jackets looked up bewildered as Marwood sprinted onto the site, careering towards the heart of the construction.

‘Hey, no members of the public allowed—'

The startled foreman didn't get any further, the desperate Marwood cannoning into him, sending him sprawling backwards. Bouncing off him, the fugitive raced on, but the collision had cost him valuable seconds and Helen raced forwards, zeroing in for the kill. Marwood stumbled into the shell of the building with his pursuer now only seconds behind. Spying a rough concrete staircase ahead, he lurched towards it, Helen having to change direction sharply to keep pace with him. Marwood had reached the foot of the steps, which were surrounded by various bits of building detritus, but she was hot on his heels now. Lunging forward, Helen grasped at his hoodie, determined to bring him down. But just as she made contact with him, gripping the heavy cotton, Marwood span round, aiming something at her head. Helen only had a second to react, ducking swiftly as the metal pole whistled over her head. The scaffolding offcut fell from her attacker's grasp and Helen took full advantage, springing up and knocking Marwood backwards. As she did so, however, his elbow swung sharply down, catching Helen on the temple. The impact was crisp and clean, sending her tumbling back onto the floor. For a second, the world seemed to spin, Helen prone on her hands and knees, utterly at the mercy of her assailant. She half expected a second, decisive blow, but when she looked up, Helen saw that Marwood had chosen flight over fight, scuttling away up the half-finished staircase. Hauling herself back onto her feet, Helen took a moment to steady herself, then set off in pursuit.

It was reckless, dangerous, insane. The concrete steps, which formed an emergency stairwell that crisscrossed back and forth on the vertiginous left wall, were not yet completed. It reached all the way to the top of the building, but had no banisters, no rails, nothing to stop you plunging off the side. Already, worried builders were calling up after them, imploring both Marwood and Helen to come down, to realize the terrible danger they were in, but the fugitive paid no heed to their cries, nor did Helen, tearing up the steps after him. It seemed highly improbable that there was any other way off this concrete shell, but if there was one, Helen was sure Marwood would find it, hence her desperate pursuit.

As she scrambled up the rough, uneven stairs, Helen was surprised to see that her quarry had already opened up a significant lead over her. Alarmed, she redoubled her efforts, bounding up the steps two at a time. Slowly she was narrowing the gap between them, but they were climbing ever higher, the figures beneath them growing smaller all the time. Helen had a head for heights, but still the dizzying drop off the side of the rough-hewn steps made her stomach lurch. She had to balance speed with caution if she was to avoid paying her a heavy price for her impetuousness.

Up, up, up they raced. Helen was struggling to breathe, the unremitting upward sprint taking its toll on her body, whilst fear slowly assailed her brain. She could already foresee what lay ahead – a death-defying tussle on top of a thirty-storey building – and who could say she would prevail this time? Was this really how she wanted to die, the victim of a multiple rapist, who would surely kill her as soon as look at her? Yet what was the alternative? They needed Marwood in custody, they needed him to talk. If he was responsible for Naomi Watson's abduction, then only he could lead them to her.

The sunlight above was growing stronger, only a couple of flights of stairs separating them from the half-constructed roof. Still Helen kept up her pace, giving Marwood no quarter, no encouragement, and moments later they emerged onto the summit.

She was only seconds behind him now, but even as she reached out to grab him, Helen felt herself knocked backwards, a savage blast of wind ripping over her, as she finally broke cover. For a moment, Helen was unable to stop herself, staggering back towards the outer edge of the roof, but at the last minute she righted herself, throwing her weight forward in a desperate attempt to save her skin. To her surprise, Marwood was already on the move, edging along the thin, wooden planks that provided the only route across this terrifying abyss. It was a crazy stunt, the dusty concrete floor barely visible below, the scurrying workers now mere ants, but desperation drove him on.

‘Please, Ryan. It's too dangerous …'

Her words drifted away in the wind, the fugitive intent on escape. But where could he go? There was no staircase on the other side of the building, no way down, so what was he hoping to do? Balance on the edge and hope Helen wasn't brave enough to follow? Negotiate from that desperate position? What could he possibly hope to gain?

Another heavy gust of wind swept over them, unbalancing Marwood, whose arms cartwheeled wildly.

‘Ryan!' Helen screamed, taking a step onto the narrow plank.

Still Marwood waved his arms frantically, but regaining his balance, he stumbled on, finally reaching the other side of the building. Alighting onto the perilously narrow concrete lip, he turned to face her once more.

‘Please, Ryan, this is the end of the road. There's nowhere to go.'

He looked around, hopelessly searching for some means of escape, but he knew she was telling the truth. He was trapped.

‘Let's get you down safely and then we can talk.'

But already he was shaking his head. Marwood was white as a sheet, his body limp, his wild eyes wet with tears.

‘I know you're hurting, I know you're in a bad place, but I can help you.'

Another savage shake of the head. Holding out her hand, Helen took a step onto the plank.

‘Stay where you are!' the fugitive barked.

Immediately, Helen arrested her progress. But she kept her hand outstretched.

‘I mean it, Ryan. I want to help you. So please do the right thing. Think of yourself, think of your mother, come back down with me now.'

‘If I come back down, they'll send me back. I know they will.'

‘Not if you co-operate,' Helen returned quickly. ‘Not if you help us make things right.'

‘You know the rules,' Marwood replied scornfully. ‘I've violated my probation – they'll have no choice but to bang me up.'

‘I'll talk to them, explain that these are exceptional circumstances.'

‘And once I'm inside, they'll finish the job,' Marwood insisted, as if he hadn't heard Helen's reply at all. ‘They'll finish the job, slowly and painfully …'

‘Look, if you're worried about your safety, we can make special arrangements. If you do go back to prison, we can separate you from the others …'

‘And go quietly mad in solitary? No, thanks.'

He glanced around him, peering over the edge of the building. Feeling a spike of alarm, Helen stepped forward.

‘You're getting ahead of yourself, Ryan,' she continued, inching forwards. ‘None of this needs to happen if you do the right thing now.'

But the ex-offender simply shook his head.

‘No, I had my chance. And I messed it up. Tell my Mum I'm sorry.'

As he turned, Helen raced forwards. Careless of her own safety, she lunged towards him, her hand outstretched. But she was a second too late, Marwood hopping off the side of the building, leaving Helen clutching fresh air. She crashed onto the plank, gripping it fiercely to avoid sliding off, and she was still hanging onto it for dear life seconds later, when she heard the sickening sound of the impact below.