‘Beth, I need you to keep pressure on his stomach,’ she said, trying to keep her voice even. ‘Keep on the pressure.’ Beth nodded and pressed her hands into his stomach, but he had gone quiet and still. She turned back to Darryl still holding the gun, ‘You need to let us go. If you let us all go, I can make sure you’re treated well…’
‘You shut up! SHUT UP you stupid BITCH!’ cried Darryl, and he advanced on Erika with the gun, pushing its barrel close to her face.
She stood her ground and stared at him.
‘Darryl. It’s over. What kind of future have you got? Turn yourself in; if you come quietly we can cut you a deal. You’ll be treated fairly,’ she said.
Darryl shook his head, and pushed his finger against the trigger.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Back in the incident room at West End Central, John, Crane and Moss were listening with horror at the audio coming in from control at Maidstone Police Station. They heard that two helicopters were now approaching the Oast House: the Air Ambulance and an Armed Police Response Team. Melanie joined them, having heard what was happening.
‘Erika and Peterson entered the Oast House without authorisation,’ said John with tears in his eyes. ‘They found Beth Rose, but the suspect, Darryl Bradley, shot Peterson… We don’t know if he’s alive or…’ His voice tailed off.
‘Then he’s still alive,’ said Moss, struggling to stay composed. ‘Until we hear otherwise, he’s alive. Do you hear?’
John nodded. Melanie reached out and took Moss’s hand. A voice came over the radio, saying that the Air Ambulance would try to land but the ground was soft. The Armed Response Team said it would be standing by.
‘Suspect is armed and dangerous,’ said a voice. ‘I repeat, suspect is still armed and dangerous.’
‘Come on,’ said Moss under her breath. ‘Please, don’t let this end badly.’
Chapter Ninety
The hum of the helicopter grew close, but Erika couldn’t see anything out of the small high windows of the Oast House. Darryl still had the gun trained on her. A red rash now covered half of his face.
Erika glanced at Beth, who was now crying, her arms covered in blood. Peterson was still. The sound of the helicopter grew louder.
‘Darryl. Please. It’s over,’ she said.
‘No, no, no, NO, NO, NO!’ he said, shaking his head. He suddenly flipped the gun around and stuffed the double barrel into his mouth. His lips stretched wide, and he closed his eyes tight.
‘Darryl! NO!’ shouted Erika.
There was a deafening bang; the glass on one of the windows imploded, and Darryl hit the floor. Erika rushed over to him and saw a gunshot wound in his left shoulder. She looked up and out through the window, and saw the helicopter hovering – the silhouette of an officer holding a rifle. She grabbed the shotgun and cracked it open, taking out the remaining cartridge. Darryl lay dazed and covered in blood, but still very much alive. Erika grabbed her radio.
‘Suspect is down; I have his gun. We are clear. I repeat, we are clear.’
Suddenly there was a crash and a team of three Specialist Firearms officers rushed in. They were followed by four paramedics, who fanned out between Peterson, Beth and Darryl.
‘He’s still alive, but only just,’ one of the paramedics shouted, kneeling down on the ground beside Peterson. ‘James, James, can you hear me?’
He started to work on him, putting in an IV line.
Erika turned back to Darryl and stood over him as a paramedic placed a pressure bandage over his injured shoulder. His face was wet with sweat and drops of blood, and he looked bewildered.
‘Darryl Bradley,’ said Erika, as the paramedic quickly unwrapped an IV line and pushed it into a vein in his arm. ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Janelle Robinson, Lacey Greene, Ella Wilkinson, Bryony Wilson, and the abduction and attempted murder of Beth Rose, and the assault of your mother, Mary Bradley. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
He stared up at her as the paramedics got him on to a stretcher and lifted it up.
‘I got you,’ she said.
For the rest of her life, Erika would remember the look Darryl Bradley gave her as he was stretchered away. It was as if she had come face to face with pure evil.
Erika stood outside the Oast House, wrapped in a blanket, and holding on to Beth as Peterson and Darryl were stretchered over the grass, still covered in patches of melting snow, and loaded into the Air Ambulance helicopter. They watched in silence as it lifted off and slowly moved away in the sky until it was a tiny speck and then vanished.
‘Oh my God, thank you, thank you,’ said Beth, finally breaking down.
Erika looked down at the girl who was pale and filthy and took her gently in her arms and they hugged. Moments later, a group of police cars came ploughing over the brow of the hill towards them, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
Chapter Ninety-One
It was late in the evening by the time Erika arrived back at West End Central. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror of the lift as she rode up to the top floor, and the woman staring back frightened her. It reminded her of how she’d looked when Mark had died, her face devoid of colour and emotion. She was muddy and sleep-deprived, wearing days-old clothes, and without realising it, she was in shock. When she came out of the lift she hesitated at the door marked MURDER INVESTIGATION TEAM and then went inside.
The floor was empty, and the lights were out, all the officers having gone home hours before. There was one light still on, down the far end of the office; a door was ajar, and Erika walked towards it. She knocked and went inside. Melanie looked up at her, and for a moment they were silent.
‘Come in, take a seat,’ she said. ‘Drink?’
Erika nodded. Melanie pulled out a bottle of whisky from her desk drawer and found a couple of mugs.
Erika sat down in the chair opposite the desk as Melanie poured them each a large measure and then passed her one of the mugs. They took a long drink.
‘He came through surgery,’ said Melanie.
‘Darryl?’
‘Darryl did, it was only a wound to the shoulder. I’m talking about Peterson. He came through the surgery. I just heard.’
Erika froze with the mug at her lips.
‘I thought… I thought…’
‘He lost a lot of blood, and they had to remove a large piece of his stomach and, of course, there’s a risk of infection… but saying all of that, the doctors are hopeful. He has a high chance of pulling through,’ said Melanie with a weak smile.
‘Oh, oh my god,’ said Erika. She dropped the mug down on the desk with a clatter and put a hand to her mouth and started to cry.
Melanie came over and put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder hard.
‘It was amazing what you did today, Erika.’