‘Try and get to his last known, for confirmation purposes. If he’s not there, get back to Thames House. Your backup is still a few minutes behind you, so be careful.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sam eventually got to York Road and made his way north. It was decision time. Should he turn left onto Chicheley Street and risk getting caught up in the crowds who would no doubt be gathered behind the police cordon, waiting, in hope, for a bit of excitement? Or continue north and potentially get stuck in traffic at the roundabout which encircles the impressive BFI IMAX Cinema?
He decided to risk Chicheley Street. He indicated and turned left, immediately regretting his decision.
Police officers were attempting to push the crowd further back. Some were carrying barriers with the intention of closing the junction Sam had just turned into. An officer noticed Sam’s car and waved at him to stop. The officer jogged up and ducked into Sam’s now open window.
‘Sorry, sir, you can’t come down here, its pandemonium. We’re having to push the crowd back this way.’
Sam showed his identification.
‘I have to get to Belvedere Road, it’s the last known location of the suspect.’
The tone of the police officer immediately changed.
‘Of course sir, follow me.’
He started ushering the crowd to the side of the road, shouting to get their attention. Sam’s car crawled behind. Sam thought back to his school history lessons when he learned about the early days of motoring, when cars would have a man walking in front of them, waving a flag to alert the public who were not accustomed to seeing the infernal machines.
The officer wasn’t lying, it was pandemonium. Ambulances were arriving, a precautionary measure. Sam could make out people still in the viewing pods of the London Eye. Best seats in the house. He couldn’t help but think that they might have been better off staying there.
Progress was made, but it was slow. Sam was grateful for the assistance getting him through the crowd. Eventually he made it to the junction with Belvedere Road where he turned right, the police officer still trying to move the crowd, which was at its thickest at this point.
In the distance, he could see the railway bridge. The last known location of Raynor. He wondered why Virani hadn’t sent a couple of policemen to investigate. It would only have taken a couple of minutes for somebody to have walked up the road. From her location, Virani could probably see Raynor. Probably just playing it by-the-book. If she were to waste resources chasing a sighting based on information gathered through questionable activities, only for it to be a false alarm, she’d have hell to pay.
Likewise, if an officer approached Raynor without backup and ended up getting injured, it would be Virani who took the blame.
Resources were already short. They were stretched to their limits. Teams at The Shard, teams here at the London Eye, Sam officially still on leave after the attempt on his life. What could she do? She needed a result. Sam was her only choice.
Gradually, the crowd started thinning out. The Police officer stopped and walked back to the car. Sam lowered his window.
‘You should be fine from here sir. Good luck.’
‘Thanks for your help.’ replied Sam as he revved the engine in an attempt to get the remaining crowd to part. He sounded his horn to add to the urgency.
Raynor watched as the crowd started to part. The low, wide wedge of the green Elan’s bonnet inched through. He waited, helmet on, visor up.
Sam saw Raynor, and then it hit him. What was he supposed to do? He was unarmed and had no backup. Was he supposed to try and arrest the man? Just hope that Raynor would simply oblige? There was no way that was going to happen.
Sam stopped the car. A Mexican standoff. His backup would be here soon. Could he get Raynor to hang around long enough? Probably not. Raynor would just take off as soon as there was any sign of backup.
Without warning, the Honda started moving. It was coming towards Sam. Slowly. Ten metres, five, two. It stopped. Sam looked into Raynor’s eyes. They were mocking him. Raynor spoke.
‘Alright Sam? I’ve been waiting for you.’
He looked down the road toward the crowd. It looked like they were parting again to let Sam’s backup drive through.
‘Look, I know you’ve got backup coming, so I’m not going to hang around. But that’s four down, Sam. Six to go. I’m going to give you a chance though. I’m not going to send the texts out until the last one’s in place.’
Though the helmet was covering Raynor’s face, his eyes told Sam that he was smiling.
‘Stop me, stop the explosions. Now, I’ve got work to do. Don’t try and follow, you won’t be able to. Just head back to Thames House and tell the lovely Ms. Virani that I wasn’t here.’
He dropped his visor, slotted the bike into gear, opened the throttle, and performed a tyre-smoking one hundred and eighty degree turn. He then sped off up the road.
Sam didn’t hang around. He slammed the Lotus into first gear and hit the accelerator. He could never out-run the bike, but he’d have the advantage around corners. He’d at least be able to catch up a bit when the bike had to slow at junctions. But the bike could weave through traffic, something the Lotus was unable to do.
They sped under the railway bridge and Raynor slowed to make a right turn. Sam was close behind, using his handbrake to slide the car through the junction onto Concert Hall Approach. Without warning, Raynor swerved across the road onto the wide pedestrian footpath of Sutton Walk. He had a split second decision to make. Follow or let Raynor go? There was no way he’d be able to find Raynor if he lost him now. He followed suit and swerved onto the pavement, going under the railway bridge once more, heading toward Waterloo station.
People dived out of the way, screaming, shaking their fists, shouting obscenities. York Road was directly ahead, dissecting the footpath. Raynor weaved through a couple of taxis and headed up Station Approach against the oncoming traffic. Sam stood on the brake pedal as the obstacles drove by, giving him a gap to fit the car through. He couldn’t risk going the wrong way up Station Approach. Unlike Raynor, he couldn’t use the pavement as easily. He swerved the car onto Mepham Street and floored it.
The street he was on ran parallel to Station Approach, but not for too far. Station Approach raised to a covered pickup point at one of the station’s many exits, giving the effect that Mepham Street was dipping next to it. Their paths would soon split. Sam would have to make some diversions to get back on track.
Mepham Street met Waterloo Road and Sam turned onto it. He was now moving away from the road Raynor was on, which hugged the edge of Waterloo train station. He needed to gain some time on the bike in order to have any chance of catching him up.
Raynor was having his own problems. As he reached the top of the incline and entered the covered area, a bus and a taxi were blocking his way. People were swarming around the bus, trying to get on. He slowed, trying to assess the best course of action.
The cycle path was the only real option, but it was busy. Pedestrians loitered, cyclists, two abreast, blocking the path. Bollards made it difficult to mount the pavement. It was a delay he didn’t need. He fought his way through the throng and managed to pick up speed.
He was now on a two-way street. A mini roundabout gave taxis a place to turn and head back in the direction they came. He had to be careful, though; British Transport police always had a presence outside the station. Even more so now, thanks to his handiwork.
Sam slowed to make a right turn onto Bayliss Road. It was busy. It always was around railway stations. He edged out into the oncoming traffic and a bus blared its horn, narrowly avoiding the front of the car. He forced his way through only to have to repeat the process merely thirty metres further in order to get onto Spur Road. He could see the railway station ahead. Was he too late? He rounded the left hander that would take him parallel, once more, with Station Approach and eased on the gas.