Page 184 of In Too Deep
A laugh escaped Harrison before he could stop it, half relief and half something dangerously close to breaking. “You’re an idiot.”
“So I’m told.”
Harrison brushed the dust from his curls, then reached for his phone with his free hand, keeping the other firmly around Jake.
“Control, DI Black.”
“Go ahead, sir.”
“I’ve located Whitton. He’s alive. Repeat, missing male located alive inside Unit Twelve.” Harrison tightened his arm around Jake. “I need an ambulance immediately. Multiple injuries following a fall, possible fractures and prolonged confinement.”
“Received. Your units are arriving on scene now.”
“Have them secure the building. No one enters without authorisation. The roof’s unstable, so get Fire and Rescue here as well. We’ll need help getting him down safely.”
“Understood.”
Harrison glanced at Jake. “Update the circulation on Roman Levenson. He’s now wanted in connection with the attempted murder and false imprisonment of Jake Whitton. Treat him as potentially dangerous.”
“Received, sir.”
“And I want Paul Levenson located. Don’t arrest him yet. Just find him and keep him there until someone from CID can speak to him.”
“Understood.”
Harrison ended the call and looked back at Jake.
Still there.
Still breathing.
Waiting for the drop.
So Harrison tightened his arm around him and waited for the sound of sirens.
chapter twenty-three
Vital Signs
Jake sat on the edge of the ambulance stretcher, foil blanket draped around his shoulders, oxygen mask strapped over his face, watching the world through the open rear doors.
His injured arm had been secured in a sling, his ankle was swollen inside the boot the paramedic had loosened but decided not to remove, and every breath pulled unpleasantly at his ribs. Apparently, nothing felt obviously broken, which Jake had taken as excellent news right up until the bloke had followed it with, but we’ll need X-rays to be sure.
He also had cuts across both palms, a spectacular collection of bruises developing beneath his shirt and enough dust in his lungs to make every other breath end in a cough.
Still. Alive.
He’d take it.
The industrial estate barely looked recognisable.
An hour ago, it had been silent. Dead. And waiting for demolition. Now it looked like the set of some major incident drama, with blue lights flashing across corrugated steel. Uniformed officers moving between cordons. Fire crews hauled equipment in and out of the admin block. Floodlights had turned the entire site harsh and white, throwing long shadows across cracked concrete and rusting fencing. Crime scene tape fluttered in the evening breeze while radios crackled from every direction.
All because one idiot roofer got himself trapped inside a ceiling.
Jake would have laughed if his throat hadn’t felt as if he’d swallowed sandpaper.
Then his gaze found Harrison.
