Free Acid Row by Minette Walters Page B

called the police?"
    “I can't get through. The lines are jammed.”
    “Then dial 999.”
    “That's what I've been doing,” her friend protested, 'but every time I get transferred to the police, there's a message saying they know about the disturbance in Bassindale and not to bother reporting it."
    “Good heavens!”
    “Exactly. But I can't see any policemen through the binoculars.” Her voice rose in fear. "We're all going to be killed. What do you think we should do?"
    Eileen glanced towards the ceiling as a slamming door set her china rattling. “Lock ourselves in and wait for the trouble to pass,” she said firmly, crossing her fingers for luck. "You never know ... we might hit the jackpot. Maybe the thugs'll kill each other .. . and give us a bit of peace."
    Police Message to all stations >28.07.01 >13.55 >Bassindale Estate >Milosz Zelowski (a.k.a. Nicholas Holds), 23 Humbert Street, requests protection or removal to safe house Advised police resources stretched EMERGENCY LINES AT FULL CAPACITY >28.07.01 >Bassindale Estate Anonymous call barricades being erected on Bassindale Row Believed intention -to prevent access to patrol cars EMERGENCY LINES AT FULL CAPACITY >28.07.01 >14.08 >Bassindale Estate URGENT Patrol car 031 reports all access routes to Bassindale blocked EMERGENCY LINES AT FULL CAPACITY  

Eight.
    Saturday 28 July 2001 - Bassindale Estate
    THE TWO POLICEMEN in patrol car 31 watched the blockade-building from a safe distance. They had exited the estate on Forest Road South with the intention of driving along the main road and coming back up Bassindale Row North to check on Zelowski in Humbert Street. But it was too late. Bassindale was already impassable and a retracing of their steps showed that all four points of entry to the estate had been blocked.
    “Serves them right,” said the older officer, switching the radio to stand-by. "I said it could be turned into a fortress if the bastards got angry enough." He lowered the window and spat on to the grass verge. "I blame the planners, myself. They should've asked the police what they thought before they built a concrete jungle and filled it with villains."
    “Yeah, yeah,” said his partner, who'd heard it a thousand times. He was scanning the scene through a pair of binoculars. "It's well organized .. . must have been coordinated for two o'clock." He whistled through his teeth. "I reckon we got away lightly .. . five minutes longer with the MacDonald woman and we'd have been trapped." He lowered the glasses. “What the hell's going on?” he demanded. "I mean, if Amy ism there, why are these idiots trying to keep us out?"
    His mate gave an exasperated sigh. "She's not in there. If the woman had been able to tell us something about the style of T-shirt the kid was wearing, I might have been convinced'
    he shrugged 'but what sort of answer is: it was blue? She was giving us what she'd heard on the telly."
    They'd been over this once already. "What we think isn't the issue George, the issue is what does that lot' he nodded at the youths manning the barricade 'think? Assuming they think at all, of course."
    He raised the binoculars again. "Shit! Get on to the guvnor and tell him to shift his arse if he doesn't want the whole estate burning down.
    The stupid sods are siphoning petrol into bottles, and half of them've got fags in their mouths. Jee - sus! He watched a child no more than twelve years old toss a bottle towards his friend. "What the fuck do they think they're doing?"
    The same thought was in Sophie Morrison's mind as she braked sharply to avoid a gang of drunken youths in Glebe Road. One of them raised two fingers at her as if it was her fault he was too drunk to negotiate the road properly, and she mouthed wanker at him through the windscreen.
    She half-expected him to retaliate by bringing his fist down on her bonnet a standard response in Acid Row but one of his friends pulled him towards the pavement and she drove on, waving two