It was control at Taunton police station.
‘We’ve just had a 999 call from Janice Grey, out at Blackdown Manor, widow of that feller they pulled from a lock off the Thames, says there are armed intruders out there.’
Ted Dawson was suddenly wide awake.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘We wondered if you could take a run out there, have a look, as you’re close. We’re taking it seriously, obviously, we’re sending a patrol car around and armed response are on their way. So, don’t do anything rash. Just have a bit of a reccy. The woman’s in quite a state. We haven’t been able to get much sense out of her. But it could well be nothing. Apparently there were reports of armed intruders on the night of the fire, but nobody could find any evidence of that.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ted Dawson. ‘All part of the mystery.’
‘Yes, and this could be another false alarm. But the boss says be careful.’
‘Of course,’ said Ted Dawson.
He left the house almost immediately. There was very little traffic. It took him a scant half hour to reach Blackdown Manor. As he approached he switched off his headlights. There was a watery moon giving a faint but indispensable light.
He continued to motor slowly toward the start of the drive, and The Gatehouse. The engine was barely ticking over. He just hoped he would be neither heard nor seen, if indeed there were intruders about.
When he reached the point in the road from which he could see The Gatehouse he slowed to a halt, switched off the engine, and wound down the driver’s window to give himself a better view. The curtains were drawn but he could see chinks of light in at least a couple of rooms. At a glance, everything seemed normal. There did not seem to be a parked vehicle anywhere, other than the Range Rover in the driveway which he was pretty sure belonged to the Greys. But then, he reflected, if he were planning an uninvited entry into somebody else’s home under cover of darkness, he would not park his vehicle right outside.
Just as he was pondering whether to risk approaching the house, the front door opened. Quite suddenly. A shadowy figure, clad in either black or very dark clothes, hurried out into the garden. Was this one of the reported intruders? It seemed likely, but was he armed? He was definitely clutching something that could be a handgun. Ted couldn’t quite see, and was really only assuming that the shadowy figure was a man. A man who seemed to be looking for something. Or someone. Mrs Grey, perhaps?
The man pulled open the door of a shed to the left of the house, and seemed to look inside. Then he scooted around to the right of the house, briefly disappearing from sight. After a minute or so he reappeared and began to run towards the road — directly at Ted Dawson.
It was inevitable that he would see Ted’s vehicle. And if he was armed, then Ted would be a sitting duck. Ted quickly switched on his engine and his headlights and leaned on the horn. The black-clad figure, face concealed by a balaclava of some sort, froze for just a second or two in the glare of the lights. To Ted’s alarm, he definitely was carrying a hand gun, which he suddenly levelled at the windscreen of Ted’s vehicle. Moving faster than he had in years, Ted stepped on the accelerator and drove straight at the armed man, who leapt to the left, ran back into the garden of The Gatehouse, and then along the path that led around to the back of the house.
Ted pulled to a halt, but kept his engine running and his headlights on for a minute or two. Then, when the man failed to reappear, he switched off his engine, and sat listening. The intruder — or intruders Mrs Grey had said — must have a vehicle parked somewhere, surely. Blackdown Manor was quite remote. Nobody would have walked there.
He was listening for an engine to start. At first he heard only silence. Then the sound of an engine, but not one being started up. Instead what Ted could hear was a vehicle approaching along the road outside the manor, possibly more than one. The palms of his hands were sweaty, as was the back of his neck. Ted Dawson wasn’t armed. If this was the intruders’ vehicle approaching, he was in no way prepared or able to deal with them. But surely they wouldn’t come back, would they? After all, they didn’t know he was alone and unarmed, he tried to reassure himself. Nonetheless he was worried. He wondered if he had time to turn his car around and take off in the opposite direction. But he could now see headlights approaching, and they were very close. He had no time at all. He switched his own headlights off. At least he wouldn’t be quite such an easy target. The vehicle drew to a halt just the other side of The Gatehouse. It was a police Range Rover, almost certainly an Armed Response Vehicle.
Ted heaved a huge sigh of relief, stepped out of his car and walked towards the ARV, holding up his warrant card in one hand.
‘Police,’ he called. ‘DC Ted Dawson.’
He was half blinded by the beam of a powerful torch.
‘Over here,’ called a voice from somewhere behind it.
Ted hurried over. He didn’t think he’d ever been quite so glad to see anyone in his entire life before as this AR team.
He gave the team leader, who introduced himself as Sergeant Phil Phillips, a rundown of the events he had witnessed.
‘Any sign of the woman?’ asked Phillips. ‘The woman who called this in?’
‘No,’ said Ted Dawson. ‘Not that I’ve seen anyway.’
Ted knew that Phillips must be thinking what he was thinking. Would they find Janice Grey alive? And might there still be armed men in the house? Ted had only seen one man. It seemed that Janice Grey had indicated that there had been more than one. But she had, understandably, been in a panic.
‘OK, you stay here, with our vehicle,’ said Phillips.
He turned to his team.
‘Mark, you stay with DC Dawson, and watch our backs. Ray, Johnno, you two with me.’
And with that he led the two officers, at a crouched run, towards The Gatehouse. The door was still ajar. Phillips kicked it wide open with one foot.
‘Armed police,’ he called loudly. Then again: ‘Armed police. If there is anyone in the house come out now. If you are armed, put down your arms. Come out with your hands up.’
No one emerged. There continued to appear to be no sign of life inside the house. No sound. No movement.
Almost immediately Phil Phillips led his little team inside.
Ted was full of apprehension as he watched and waited. It seemed like a very long time before the AR team emerged from the house, but was probably only four or five minutes.
They were alone. No armed men, and no Janice Grey. But that did not necessarily mean she wasn’t still inside. And if she was, she was likely to be either dead or seriously injured, Ted suspected.
‘Have you found the woman, have you found Mrs Grey?’ he blurted out anxiously.
‘No, the house is empty,’ replied Phillips. ‘There’s nobody there at all.’
They found Janice Grey at dawn the next morning. She was alive. Although suffering from exposure and nervous exhaustion.
A preliminary search had been launched as soon as AR had declared the immediate area clear, but after a couple of hours or so had been called off until daylight. Constable Joe Curry, twenty-two and fresh from police college, was one of those assigned to search the ruins of the manor house.
They found Mrs Grey cowering in an exposed part of the basement area of the old house, hiding beneath a tepee of half collapsed beams. She was in a state of total terror.
‘Police, we’re the police,’ shouted Constable Curry. ‘It’s all right you’re safe now. We’re here.’
It took several minutes and the help of two other officers to quieten the woman. She was quite hysterical. At first, she seemed unable to grasp that the danger she had faced during the preceding night was no longer present.