Page 31

Charlie was halfway across the cobbled yard when she heard it.

The sound of an engine, high-pitched and protesting, growing ever louder.

Now she saw the nose of a vehicle pushing through the open gates, as it pulled in off the main road.

Horrified, she realized that she and DC Roberts were hopelessly exposed, seconds from being discovered.

Acting on instinct, she grabbed her colleague by the collar and pulled him towards her, the pair lurching towards the sanctuary of two large industrial bins that stood proud by the warehouse.

Slipping in between the giant metal cylinders, the startled officers pressed themselves to the brickwork as a dark green Luton van sped past. Charlie held her breath, fearing discovery, but the vehicle rounded the warehouse, before disappearing inside.

‘You OK?’ she asked, receiving a reassuring nod from her startled colleague. ‘Alright then, let’s go.’

Poking her head out from between the bins, Charlie scanned the yard, making sure no other arrivals were imminent.

The coast seemed clear, however, so she emerged, keeping close to the brickwork as she crept along the side of the aged building.

Reaching the corner, she peered round, before continuing her progress to the delivery doors at the rear, which had been flung open in expectation of visitors.

As she neared the open doorway, Charlie heard voices, soft and friendly, bantering within.

Caution was the order of the day now, so she took advantage of a knot in the wooden boards, peering through the tiny hole.

There were two men inside, chatting amiably as they examined the contents of the Luton van, which was packed to the gunnels with electrical items. Their suspect now directed his new companion to unload a number of the boxes onto a nearby pallet.

Relaxed, trusting, the seller obliged and before long a towering pile of boxes sat proud on the wooden boards.

Satisfied, the new owner now produced a wad of notes from his jacket pocket, thrusting them into the hands of the trader.

The latter counted the pile quickly before slipping them into his tracksuit pocket.

‘What can you see?’ DC Roberts whispered urgently, keen to be in on the action.

‘Our man’s just bought some electrical goods and as he hasn’t asked for a receipt, I think we can assume they’re stolen.’

‘How much has he bought?’

‘Several grands worth,’ Charlie replied, keeping her voice low.

‘Bit rich for a docker.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ Charlie concurred. ‘But if he is getting paid off by someone, a trafficker or port official, then this would be as good a way as any to launder the cash.’

DC Roberts was about to respond, but Charlie held up her hand to silence him.

The dodgy dealer had now said farewell to his companion and climbed back into the cab.

Moments later, he was on the move again, the bulky vehicle executing a sharp three-point turn.

Pushing her colleague back against the wall, they watched cautiously as the van raced out of the warehouse, before swinging sharply around the corner and away.

Taking a breath, Charlie turned to her colleague.

‘Ready?’ she whispered, removing her warrant card from her jacket.

He nodded, preparing himself for the arrest. Without another word, Charlie turned and padded quietly into the shadowy interior.

Happily, their suspect was still in plain sight, pulling open one of the boxes to inspect the contents.

He seemed utterly unaware of their presence, Charlie making it to within five feet of him before she declared:

‘Hampshire Police.’

The man froze, his body rigid with tension.

‘Turn around slowly, please, hands where I can see them.’

The suspect obliged, turning now to reveal a shrewd, hard-bitten face. He was clearly a working man, muscular and toned, with weather-beaten features which made him look older than he probably was.

‘That’s it,’ Charlie encouraged, taking a small step forward. ‘No need for this to be difficult. We just need a word with you at the station, but why don’t you start by telling us your name?’

She was virtually on top of him now, removing her cuffs from her belt, ready to claim their prize.

‘You want to know my name?’ he hissed.

‘For starters.’

‘Here you go then.’

Charlie reacted, but too late. There were only inches between them and the suspect threw his head forward so violently that she had no time to talk evasive action.

His forehead smashed into the bridge of her nose and then she was falling, stars studding her vision.

As she hit the ground, she heard a startled groan from DC Roberts, then the sound of footsteps haring away.

Shocked, in pain, Charlie stumbled to her feet, to see a winded DC Roberts sprinting after their fugitive.

Cursing herself for her stupidity, Charlie did likewise, towards the open doors, hand clutched to her nose, busting a gut to catch up with her attacker.

The chase was on.