The Lidl store was situated in a recently built retail complex at the entrance to Samford. Most of the premises were not yet completed or occupied, and large posters bearing details of incoming retailers covered the fronts of them. Railings cordoned off what was to be a car park serving all the shops, leaving a rough area for parking in front of the supermarket.

It had taken Lucy and Murray only five minutes to reach the place, and after getting out of their unmarked car, Lucy headed straight into the store, leaving Murray outside to watch over the entrance.

The layout was typical of all supermarkets; once inside she was greeted with an aisle chock-full of fruit and veg produce. She slipped past it and, choosing the middle thoroughfare that would give her a chance to look up and down each aisle, she dashed towards the far side. Finn wouldn’t be likely to be down a fruit and veg aisle, and given he’d already been here for eight minutes or so, he would have most likely made his selection and been on the way out or close to the checkouts.

Nevertheless, she turned her head this way and that, scouring each of the aisles. There was a couple clutching armfuls of bumper packets of toilet rolls, which according to the neon-green sign were on special offer. The sign over the next aisle indicated soft drinks and snacks. No sign of Finn. A woman in the supermarket uniform was stacking shelves with cans of soup, talking all the while to another assistant on her knees beside her. A mother pushing her child in a trolley, who was happily eating crisps, was to her left.

There were only three aisles left to check. In the chilled food aisle, an older woman was searching through yoghurts; near her, two young men. She paused. Neither of them was Finn. One glanced over and, clocking her, nudged his mate. She strode on, ignoring them. Ahead, to her right, was the alcohol section, and if she had to place a bet on where she’d find Finn, it would be here. She slowed her pace, trying to remain no more than a casual shopper. She flicked her eyes to the right. There was nobody but a woman in her late forties lifting a box of beer into a trolley. Shit! Finn must have already left. She spun to her left and glimpsed a young man about to pass through the checkout. It was him. She quickened her pace. Three people separated her from her target.

Finn reached into his pocket, pulled out a ten-pound note and handed it to the cashier, who sorted through change. The person behind him offloaded the contents of her trolley onto the conveyor belt, blocking the space between Lucy and her quarry. The checkout next to Finn’s was unmanned, blocked by a metal barrier. Lucy sidestepped to push through it to catch him as he left the shop but he caught sight of her and, grabbing the pack of beer, sprinted away ahead of her.

‘Police!’ Lucy yelled, racing after him. ‘Finn, stop!’

He drew to a halt outside the supermarket, spotted Murray, zigzagged away from him and belted towards the high barrier separating the car park from the supermarket. Murray was close on his heels, Lucy bringing up the rear. Finn was almost at the barrier when, without warning, he flung the beer cans behind him. They hit Murray full in the face, stopping him in his tracks. He dropped his head in his hands, blood pouring from his nose.

‘Fuck!’

Lucy swerved past him and chased after Finn, who hurled himself up the railing like a monkey and clambered over speedily, dropping lightly the other side and sprinting again, this time towards the back of the unoccupied buildings.

Lucy hauled herself over the railings and dropped to the ground, landing heavily on one ankle. Ignoring the spurts of pain coming from it, she raced on. Finn had gained distance and was almost at an alley between what was to be a new DIY store and a shoe shop. She thundered down the dark passage, emerging into another passageway that led into the main pedestrian shopping centre. She followed it and reached the main street, looked left and right, then swore. Finn had disappeared.

Back at the car park, Murray was trying to stem the flow of blood. He’d attracted attention from a couple of shoppers, the couple who’d been purchasing toilet rolls, who offered assistance and gave Murray a roll of tissue paper.

‘Shit, you’re a mess,’ she said, looking at his face.

‘Fucking hurts too,’ he replied.

‘Best get you checked over.’

‘I’ll be fine. I’ve had a bloody nose before. I just need some ice.’

‘I’ll sort it. Supermarket will have some.’

‘He escaped.’

‘Yeah, bastard. We’ll find him again. He can’t stay hidden forever. I’ll call Natalie.’

---

‘What do you reckon, then?’ Natalie asked Ian. They’d circled an area on a map within walking distance to the store.

‘They’re staying off the radar so they can’t be far away if they can reach that store without being picked up by surveillance cameras. Finn didn’t catch a bus or train into town or we’d have picked him up, and he obviously intends carrying his purchases, so he won’t be staying far away.’

‘My thoughts exactly. I think they’re hiding somewhere within this area.’

‘There are some garages there,’ he said, pointing to them. ‘And that’s a disused small industrial estate. If they were hiding out in one of those, they wouldn’t attract much attention from anybody. Otherwise, I can only think they’re with friends.’

‘No. I don’t think Finn would risk going out shopping if that were the case. He’d have definitely sent a friend and remained hidden. He’s savvy. He’ll know he’s taken a risk breaking cover. They’re alone. I’m sure of it. Find out who owns the garages.’

She pulled up a Google Maps image of the disused industrial park to decide how best to flush out the pair. There were too many entrances and possible exits for her team. She’d need more officers if they were to storm it, and if she were to put in a request for those, she’d have to justify it to her superior. A hunch wasn’t a good enough reason for Aileen Melody. Natalie might have to put somebody on it to stake it out first and look for any movement or sign of Finn and Hassan.

Lucy marched into the office. Murray followed her. Ian’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

‘Don’t say a fucking word,’ warned Murray, pointing a finger at him.

‘I wasn’t going to. It looks painful.’

‘I’ll live.’

‘You’ll probably have a nice shiner tomorrow. If it’s broken, I mean.’

‘Cheers for that. At least I’ll still be good-looking. No fucking hope for you,’ he snapped and turned towards Natalie. ‘He caught me off guard. He was like a fucking gazelle. I was trying to gain on him. Forgot he had a potential weapon in his hand.’

Natalie fought back the disappointment. Shit happened and Murray looked sufficiently crestfallen at losing the suspect. ‘As long as you’re not too seriously injured.’

‘Nurse Carmichael looked after me.’

Lucy looked across. She’d unlaced her boot and was checking her swollen ankle. ‘Like hell I did. I don’t do sympathy. He got a toilet roll and some ice and told to get back to the station, pronto. What’s happening here?’

‘We’re looking at other possibilities. We reckon Finn and Hassan are holed up nearby. Either here on this old trading estate where there are ten small disused warehouses awaiting development, or here,’ she said, indicating the row of garages. ‘We’re looking into who owns each of them.’

‘I’ll assist,’ said Lucy.

‘Might not need to,’ Ian replied. ‘This garage belongs to Adam Brannon.’

‘What?’

‘It’s leased in his name.’

‘We’re going to check it out. All of us, this time.’