Definitely Dead by Kate Bendelow (howl and other poems TXT) 📕

Maya was familiar with the pub as she had visited it a few times. It was in a beautiful location and the perfect place to sit outside on a balmy summer’s evening while watching the comings and goings on the canal.

‘Just pull over here, Maya. I’d rather us stay back a bit until the scene is secured. I’ll stay in the van with you unless I’m needed, in which case just you wait here until you’re given the all-clear.’

‘Is this it, our address. The Farmhouse?’ Maya was surprised; she assumed they were going to target one of the palatial houses they had just driven past.

‘Yup, this is the place. Take it you’ve been? Not only is it a nice little business, but we suspect that this place has been used as a front for money laundering as well as for storing various items. Just hope you weren’t planning to eat here anytime soon because if we find what we’re hoping for, I expect it’s going to be shut for quite a while.’

Maya strained toward the windscreen as the entry team quietly exited the carriers and approached the front of The Farmhouse. One of the officers was carrying the large, red, metal Enforcer – nicknamed The Key or wham-ram – which was used to force doors open, allowing entry to the premises. The team remained crouched in a tight-knit unit as they headed toward the front of the pub.

Cliff turned up his police radio and they both concentrated hard until the silence was broken by the urgent request for the entrance team to strike. A flurry of activity ensued as the armoured cops approached with stealth. Maya could hear a couple of quick thuds, which she surmised was the Enforcer being used, and the muffled cries announcing the presence of armed police.

There was a pregnant pause, filled only with the sound of Cliff’s heavy breathing. Suddenly the police radio screamed out garbled instructions. The emergency button was activated, filling the air with a shrill bleeping. Amongst screams and swearing, one of the patrols in the address shouted for backup. Chris had already leapt from the van like a scalded cat leaving the door swinging open and Maya dry-mouthed and panicking.

6

Maya sat in silence and waited with bated breath. She chewed at her fingers while she listened to the carnage being played out on the radio. In emergency activation mode, the speech switched between the open mic of the person who had pressed the button and other officers. She could hear guttural screaming and threats to kill, whilst the comms officer issued instructions for urgent welfare checks and an update. It was terrifying to hear such violence and not be able to do anything about it.

Suddenly the threat of a taser was announced which was followed by more swearing and eventually a scream which suggested that the taser had indeed been activated. She recognised Cliff’s voice as he shouted up to let comms know the suspect had been detained. The relief was palpable. Maya listened for the request for leg restraints and a spit hood. After what felt like an age, he returned to the van.

‘Sorry about that.’ He smiled ruefully as he leant in through the passenger door, swiping at his face.

‘What the hell happened? Has anyone been hurt?’

Cliff laughed. ‘Only Donnelly. Kicked off big time, stupid bastard. He’s been Pava sprayed and tasered.’

Maya caught another request over the air. ‘Foxtrot Sierra three four, can we have a second van for the other prisoner.’

‘Two?’ Maya mused.

Cliff nodded. ‘Aiden Donnelly and another chap in the property who we assume arrived last night. He must have landed at the address while the observation team were on handover. We certainly weren’t expecting him. Just hang fire until we’ve got Donnelly out and you should be okay to come in.’

Now things had calmed down, Maya was impatient to get out of the van and into the scene. It seemed like an age until Cliff emerged, waving her over. He chatted to her as she gathered her kit out of the van.

‘Suspect two is cuffed and compliant and he’s not giving us any cause for concern. The arresting officer, Emma Reid, is babysitting him. He’s told her he’s been out of town for a while and has rolled up here as he’s been appointed the position of new bar manager.’ Cliff shrugged. ‘He reckons he met Donnelly through a friend of a friend but doesn’t actually know him. We’ve currently got him under arrest on suspicion of conspiracy. We’ll see what he says in the interview and whether his story checks out. We’ve got him sat in the bar area, I’m more than happy he’ll give you no trouble if you want to come in.’

Maya grabbed her camera equipment and bag containing her scene notes and other paraphernalia and followed Cliff into the bar area of The Farmhouse. It had been refurbished since she’d last been and looked even nicer than she remembered. It felt surreal to be there out of hours. Almost as if she was trespassing. Although the familiar cacophony of chattering customers and staff was absent, the aroma of carvery and coffee lingered alluringly.

The search teams were gathered in the doorway ready to be given their paperwork. Each area or room of the pub, including the residential area upstairs, was allocated a zone number. This allowed each officer to sketch a map of their area and follow a pre-agreed strategy. The strategy was a list detailing all the items of interest that they were hoping to find, including quantities of cash, drugs, firearms, mobile phones and specific items of clothing and footwear.

‘There are three bedrooms upstairs. Two are en suites, as well as the lounge, kitchen, bathroom and a loft space. The search teams are going to concentrate up there for now, as well as the kitchen and storage area down here. We’ll even work through the toilets and bar area once matey boy is shifted out. Can