CHAPTER 9
I saw Adam quite regularly after that meeting. Not in a ‘seeing him’ sense, not over pasta with a cheeky little red or anything like that, just in passing. Once he had been pointed out to me, it seemed, my radar kept track of his whereabouts.

Alun was another whose face kept popping up in my line of sight as Dai and my other beat colleagues kept pushing me through more and more new experiences, some of which I wrapped up in my memory to giggle over later, some of which I am not ashamed to say came back a few times in the small hours to stand at the foot of my bed demanding my undivided attention.

It wasn’t all revelations about the seedy underside of life in Cardiff; after all, I had been given a crash course in exactly how shitty people could be, lying concussed in a hospital ward while two of Wales’ finest taught me about the world and its niceties. What it was, though, involved learning to maintain my balance in all senses, not leap to conclusions, not miss pipe wrenches in sweaty hands. Dai pushed that sense of balance almost to breaking point by taking me into more than a few domestics, including three stabbings, one of which was by a male partner, another involving a lesbian couple, which gave me a flashback to Bridget and Tammy.

No assumptions, PC Owens. Big world; eyes open, mind more so. Sammy kept the pressure up at a level that was almost more than I could take, but I took it, and our regular little assessment and discussion sessions became steadily more and more relaxed, his smile bigger each time below the wreckage of his nose.

Dai had me out with Traffic a few times, but thankfully not on the back of a bike, and I picked up stuff like the ‘Glossary”, the clipped, precise vocabulary used to direct other units through a pursuit. Limited words, strict phrasing, a calm and steady way of speaking, it was never something I could really settle into. I realised Traffic wasn’t meant to be my new home after a few three-up rides at speed through a busy city centre, a number of terrifying white-knuckle sessions along rural roads, and three separate faces where I got to see lips turn blue as life and awareness left the building, never to return.

All the time, my Traffic colleagues were like robots. “Not one not one, not two not two, three, committed A469 northbound, speed six zero, six zero, road conditions dry, traffic light, safe to continue” while I was being thrown against my seat belt, radio bruising my tit while the car bounced and clanged over road humps and speed cushions.

We were out one night, well to the West of our usual haunts, when the call came in.

“Kilo Two Two, Kilo Two Two, Control?”

“Send, Control”

“What’s your location, Bryn?”

“Bethel Chapel, Llangyfelach. Stationary”

That translated as ‘having a cuppa and a steak slice from the all-night garage’.

“Corsa failed to stop, Morriston. Can you assist?”

Barry was already spinning the car out of the side street as Bryn hit the noise and disco while keeping up his end of the conversation, and a few seconds later we caught the other lad’s transmissions.

“Pant Lasau Road, westbound. Speed five zero, five zero. Vehicle is three up, three up”

I knew that voice…

“Not one, not one, two, two committed. Llangyfelach roundabout. Not one, not one. Not two, not two. Not three, not three. Not four, not four. Committed Clasemont Road eastbound. Straight on at roundabout. Clasemont Road. Eastbound”

Our car surged as the calm, calm commentary continued, only a slight catch to Adam’s voice betraying what must have been physically hard work dragging such a heavy bike round bends and other traffic. Bryn called it in.

“Control, Kilo Two Two”

“Go ahead, Two Two”

“On our way. Should be with him in two minutes. Say again, ETA two minutes”

“Yes, I am pursuit trained and on a vehicle equipped for recording. Vehicle is a Vauxhall Corsa, licence plate number whisky fife fife niner tango kilo November. Eastbound on Clasemont Road. Speed is six zero, six zero. Three occupants. Male driver, IC1, white baseball cap, dark top. Right right right Mount Crescent. Right right right Penrhiw Road. Speed now fife zero fife zero”

“Traffic car en route, ETA two minutes, Five One Two”

Bryn looked over at Barry. “They’re doing the circuit, mate. Be a decamp soon. Control, Two Two. One minute off”

““Traffic eta now one minute, Five One Two”

We switched and turned through a maze of residential streets as the calls continued.

“Right right right Elan Avenue. Speed now four zero four zero. Stopping…. ready for decamp!”

Bryn grinned at Barry. “Told you!” and then realised that there was nothing more from Adam. The radio squawked again, but it wasn’t him.

“Five One Two, Control”

“Five One Two, Control”

“Two Two, nothing heard from Adam”

“Just round the corner now, Control—oh fuck!”

A second went by, before he caught his slip and wrestled it down.

“Fire and ambulance urgently, Control. Junction of Honeysuckle Drive and Elan Avenue. One car on fire. One bike also alight.”

Barry was already out the door but mine wouldn’t open. Bryn released it and I tumbled out, stupidly grabbing for my hat as Barry shouted “By that wall, butt! Di, extinguisher! NOW!”

Into the boot, two extinguishers, dry powder, shit, shit, the smell, the sound.

The smell. The car was roaring away, flames coming out of places that should have been solid, a motorcycle seemingly welded to its bonnet, and three…

Burning coconuts, oh fuck. Three up. Three in the car. Three coconuts. Bryn got in front of me as I rushed forward, seizing the extinguisher from me.

“No, Diane! Not this, OK? See to Adam, he’s by that wall, and stay away from the car”

A slumped body in scorched Hi-Viz yellow with a faceplate too blackened and half-melted to see through, smoke rising from odd patches of his jacket. I got a couple of fingers under the edge of his lid, don’t move the neck, leave the helmet on, feel for the pulse---thank god. Three minutes saw the ambulance, and two more the fire brigade, who must have used a Tardis or something to have been that quick,

Half an hour after that and there was a plastic tent over what remained of a small Vauxhall and a large Honda, and six hours later I was screaming awake from my first Job-related nightmare.

We had done the necessaries, my work head finally kicking in as training and concern for a friend finally broke through the wall of horror erected by three burning shapes, and the boys insisted I went with the ambulance. Bryn was absolutely straight to the point.

“This isn’t your place, girl. Not yet, anyways. You don’t want to be starting out on a fire, innit? You know the lad, Adam, don’t you?”

“Yeah, a bit. Sort of a mate, if you know what I mean”

“Aye. Well, you see him safe to a hospital bed and while you wait, make sure you get your pocket book straight”

“Uh?”

“Three fatalities, girl. Police pursuit immediately before. All of us will have to give statements, probably be interviewed”

“Shit! You think Adam’s in the frame and stuff?”

“Na, not a chance. I’ve already had a look at the road marks, and Barry’s got the camera. Looks like they put the car in a spin and came straight back at him. Bike’s halfway into the dashboard”

“Trying to kill him?”

He drew a long, slow breath. “Not important now, and hasn’t worked, and, well, all academic now, innit? Three of them all gone. Now, off with you, see our mate’s OK, and make sure you write down what you saw”

“What should I put in?”

“No. Not this time, girl. This is the real thing. You write your notes, as you remember them, as you saw it. No collusion, aye? No way of them getting at Adam over there. You do it right. Had your training, do the job, show us you’re someone we should be working with, and bugger off now and don’t come back till you know the lad’s OK”

He pushed me towards the ambulance, Adam already being lifted in on a wheeled stretcher and back board, helmet now off and replaced by a medical bracing frame, whatever it was called, and I rode with him to Morriston hospital where I sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair drinking not-bad tea delivered very regularly by a smiling nurse, who explained that not only were we in the same club, but having my uniform in Casualty and visible to the usual idiots actually helped make their shift easier and more pleasant.

“Constable?”

“Doctor? PC Owens, this is PC Price. Er, Diane and Adam”

“Thanks, Diane. Can you tell me what exactly happened?”

Notes completed and signed off. I can do this.

“We got there a little while afterwards, Doctor. Looked like they turned round and rammed him”

“And the burns? Oh. I see. From the lack of any other casualties, I will assume then that…”

He paused as he saw me tremble, looked around for witnesses, and gave me a quick hug.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, Diane. Nothing at all. We have to care, in our jobs, for if we don’t there’s no point to it. Explains the burns, anyway. Look…”

He led me to a little side room with a sluice in it.

“Your friend has some superficial burns to his hands and nose, as well as three fractured ribs and a concussion. From the damage, I will assume he went over the top of the car when he was rammed. It’s the other stuff that worries me. I had a look at his protective clothing, and all the fire damage is to the front. What I will assume is that--- Adam?”

“Yes”

“That Adam went back to the car while it was on fire and did so to try and get the occupants out, and that when it went up he was beside it. How far away from it did you find him?”

“About twelve, fifteen feet”

“Right. I’ll schedule some spinal X-rays for him, and set up a check on his lungs for smoke damage. If I have it right, Diane, he’s a very courageous officer, but I will lay a pound to a penny he won’t see it that way. Watch he doesn’t do anything stupid. Please”

I made my promise, and bought some wine on the way back to the nick. It still didn’t stop the nightmare.

Promise to doctor duly made.