4338.211.2 | The Chase

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As I trudged toward the patrol car, large drops of rain splattered against the ground, seemingly in sync with my mood. The sky, once a mottled canvas of darkening clouds, now seemed to openly express its displeasure. Great. Now even the sky's mad at me, I mused ruefully.

"Karl, we have to go!" Sarah's voice, full of urgency, broke through my thoughts.

"What is it?" I called back, slowing my pace slightly. Sarah's energy was almost infectious, but her anger could be equally compelling. I always marvelled at how she managed to maintain such vigour, especially when she was upset.

"A priority call has just come over the radio, two cars are driving at high speed just off the highway near Collinsvale. We're the closest unit. Quick, let's go!" she explained, her arms waving frantically, urging me to hurry.

"We can't just leave the scene here," I began, feeling a responsibility to maintain our current investigation. But Sarah was already several steps ahead.

"It'll be fine. I've already notified dispatch and forensics are on their way. We can swing by afterwards to check up on things. This call is urgent," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for debate.

"Fine," I acquiesced with a grimace, quickening my pace to the driver's side. Sarah had already started the ignition by the time I reached the car. "Shift over, I'll drive," I instructed firmly, motioning for her to move to the passenger seat.

I watched as Sarah clambered over the centre console, settling into the passenger seat with a huff. Her sense of urgency was palpable, a clear indication of the seriousness of the call.

"Come on then!" she urged, her impatience evident.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I didn’t hesitate. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, feeling the immediate response of the patrol car's powerful V8 engine. The vehicle roared to life, a beast unleashed, as we sped down the long dirt driveway. The car fishtailed slightly, struggling for traction on the rain-slicked earth, but I held firm, controlling the vehicle with practiced ease.

The adrenaline of the chase began to replace the frustration and tension of the previous events. As the car surged forward, cutting through the rain, I felt a renewed focus. The urgency of the new call demanded all my attention, and I was ready to rise to the challenge, leaving the bizarre events at the Owens' cottage behind, if only for a moment.

Sarah's smile, a rare sight since the goose incident, reflected the excitement of the chase. She swiftly picked up the radio, her voice steady and clear. "CITY632 requesting an update on the two speeding cars sighted near Collinsvale."

The dispatcher's response came promptly. "Copy that CITY632. We already had a Polair chopper in the air. They're looking for the vehicles now. What is your location?"

I brought the patrol car to a halt at the end of the Owens' driveway, where it intersected with the main road. The choice was stark: head back towards Glenorchy or delve deeper into Collinsvale. The decision hinged on the exact location of the speeding cars.

"CITY632. We're at the edge of the Owens' property in Collinsvale," Sarah reported back to dispatch, her eyes scanning the road ahead. The rain was intensifying, reducing visibility, blurring the world outside into a watery haze.

"Copy that, CITY632. The chopper has sight of the vehicles. They should be coming–" The dispatcher's voice was drowned out as two vehicles suddenly zoomed past us, heading in the direction of Collinsvale. They flew by so fast, a spray of water fanned out behind them, momentarily obscuring our view.

My pulse quickened as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. Without hesitation, I stepped hard on the accelerator and swung the car onto the main road. The patrol car's rear wheels lost traction for a brief moment, sending us into a controlled power slide. The thrill of the pursuit ignited within me, a small grin creeping onto my face as we joined the chase. Sarah, ever the professional, activated the flashing lights and siren, the familiar sounds adding to the intensity of the moment.

"We have a visual. In pursuit now," Sarah reported into the radio. The wipers worked furiously, struggling against the relentless downpour.

"Copy that, CITY632," the dispatcher replied, their voice a calm constant amid the storm and adrenaline.

The patrol car's tires screeched in protest as I navigated the sharp corner at breakneck speed, the rain-soaked road adding an extra layer of danger to our pursuit. "Do we know who the drivers are?" I asked Sarah, keeping my eyes fixed on the road ahead, trying to close the gap between us and the speeding cars.

"Let's find out," Sarah responded, her voice steady as she relayed the question into the radio.

"Negative, CITY632. Are you able to get a visual on a number plate?" the dispatcher asked.

I leaned forward in my seat, squinting through the windshield. The relentless downpour made it nearly impossible to see anything clearly. "I can't make it out. Can you?" I asked Sarah, hoping her angle might offer a better view.

"Me neither," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "You'll have to get us a little closer. Watch out for the spray from the cars." Her earlier excitement had shifted to a palpable sense of seriousness as the dangerous reality of our high-speed chase became more apparent.

Pushing the accelerator further, I felt the car surge forward. My head nearly grazed the roof as we flew over a slight rise in the road, the patrol car's rear wheels briefly losing traction. I managed to maintain control, silently thanking the countless hours spent in advanced driver training courses.

"Shit, Karl," Sarah exclaimed as she braced herself against the car's interior, preventing a collision with the side window.

"Well, did you get it?" I asked, my voice filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. Despite the thrill of the chase, the worsening weather conditions were a growing concern. The rain made every manoeuvre more perilous, and I was acutely aware of the police policy to terminate pursuits if they became too risky. Just another minute or two, I thought. We can at least give it that.

"Yeah," Sarah answered, her fingers working quickly. "I'm running it through the system now."

I glanced at the screen beside me, hoping for a quick result. But each time my eyes darted to it, all I saw was the word 'processing', a blinking reminder of the wait. My grip on the wheel tightened as we continued the pursuit, the chase becoming more treacherous with every passing second. The sense of urgency was palpable, a silent but constant pressure as we raced against time and the elements, hoping for a breakthrough before we were forced to back off.

As the pursuit continued, the two vehicles we were chasing skilfully manoeuvred along the winding hillside of Collinsvale Road, eventually turning onto Collins Cap Road. The chase was intense, every turn a high-speed ballet of danger and precision. Then, unexpectedly, the cars made a sharp turn onto Springdale Road.

"Looks like they're looping back," I noted, a hint of surprise in my voice. I slammed on the brakes, the patrol car's tires protesting against the sudden deceleration.

"What are you doing?" Sarah's voice was tinged with desperation, her eagerness to continue the pursuit palpable.

"We're going back. The distance is shorter and we can cut them off when they arrive at the intersection," I explained quickly. I shifted the car into reverse, my mind calculating the best route to intercept the suspects. With a swift motion, I yanked the handbrake, sending the car into a controlled spin before shifting back into drive and accelerating forward.

"Jeez, Karl!" Sarah exclaimed, gripping the dashboard and door handle for stability as the car spun and regained its direction.

The radio crackled to life again. "CITY632," the dispatcher said. "The chopper has you in sight. You are still in front of them. If you're quick, you'll cut them off. Other units are preparing a spike strip at the end of Glenlusk Road as a precaution."

"Copy that," Sarah responded, her voice steady as she relayed our position and intentions back to dispatch.

As we neared the intersection with Springdale Road, Sarah suddenly cried out, "Shit!"

"What is it?" I asked, my foot easing off the accelerator, bringing the vehicle to a stop in the middle of the intersection.

Sarah's next words hit me like a bolt of lightning. "The rego check found a match. It's Gladys Cramer!"

"Gladys!" I echoed, my mind racing. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she confirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I mean, I could have misread the plate, but seriously, the odds of a misread returning a person of interest like this would be insane!”

The revelation sent a shockwave through me. Gladys Cramer, a key figure in our ongoing investigation, was now the prime suspect in a high-speed chase. The coincidence was too significant to ignore. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, a mixture of anticipation and disbelief coursing through me. This case had taken another unexpected turn, and we were right in the thick of it. With renewed focus, I prepared to reengage in the pursuit, the stakes now higher than ever.

The minutes ticked by agonisingly slow, the constant drumming of the rain on the car roof adding to the tense atmosphere. My concern escalated with each passing moment. The cars should have reached us by now. The thought of a potential crash, compounded by the treacherous weather, sent a shiver down my spine. Yet, I clung to the hope that if such a tragedy had occurred, the chopper would have informed us.

Suddenly, a sharp, high-pitched sound erupted from the car radio, startling both of us. "Aargh!" we shouted in unison, instinctively covering our ears.

"What the fuck was that!?" Sarah exclaimed, her voice echoing my own shock and confusion.

"CITY632," Dispatch's voice came through, breaking the momentary chaos, "the vehicles have turned down Myrtle Forest Road. The chopper has lost a visual on them."

"Shit!" I yelled, frustration boiling over. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, the patrol car lurching forward as we raced down Springdale Road towards Myrtle Forest.

"I don't understand," Sarah said, her voice tinged with confusion. "Where are they? How could the chopper have lost them?"

"I don't know," I responded, equally perplexed. The area was remote, with limited road options, most of which ended in dead-ends. The thought that the drivers might have intentionally turned down one of these roads seemed reckless, even desperate.

As we reached the end of the bitumen road, I braked hard, the car skidding slightly on the wet surface. Our only option now was to continue on foot through the dense forest.

I grabbed the radio from Sarah. "This is CITY632. Do you have a visual on the vehicles again?" I asked, a sense of urgency evident in my voice.

"CITY632. No. There is no visual on either car," the dispatcher responded, their words confirming our worst fears.

"Fuck," I yelled, a mix of anger and helplessness overwhelming me. I pounded my fists against the steering wheel in frustration. We were so close, yet now, it felt like we were back to square one. The suspects had vanished, and with them, our lead on Gladys Cramer. The weight of the situation, the missed opportunities, and the relentless rain all seemed to converge, creating a storm of emotions within me. I knew we had to regroup and figure out our next move, but in that moment, all I could feel was the bitter sting of frustration.

Stepping out of the patrol car into the relentless downpour, I was immediately soaked to the bone. The rain was unyielding, a physical manifestation of the frustrations and challenges we were facing. Sarah, undeterred by the weather, followed me out. I stood there for a moment, hands clasped behind my head, feeling the rain cascade down my face, drenching my clothes, mirroring the turmoil inside me.

"Karl, check this out," Sarah's voice cut through the sound of the rain.

I trudged across the muddy, wet gravel towards her, slipping slightly with each step. There was no need to ask what she had found; it was blatantly obvious. Two fresh sets of tyre treads were imprinted deeply in the mud, a clear sign of recent activity. My eyes traced the path of the tracks, my body instinctively following.

"Well, this doesn't make sense," I muttered, examining the first set of treads. I glanced over at Sarah, noting how the rain had plastered her hair to her face, adding a visible element of misery to our already bleak situation.

"These tyre tracks look like the vehicle didn't even stop. How can they just end here? It's as though the car just disappeared," Sarah questioned, her voice filled with confusion and disbelief.

My gaze shifted to the large, wooden toilet block standing ominously in front of us. "I don't know," I replied softly, my voice barely above a murmur. I scrutinised the structure. "There wouldn't be much left of that wall if they'd driven into it.”

The situation was puzzling. The tracks led directly to the toilet block, yet there was no sign of impact, no debris, nothing to indicate that the vehicles had collided with the structure. It was as if they had simply vanished into thin air. My mind raced through possibilities, but none seemed to fit.

"There's still this second set of tracks," Sarah yelled out, pointing at them. We both instinctively ducked as a loud clap of thunder rolled through the sky, sending the rain falling even heavier. "Where do you reckon they lead to?" Sarah yelled over the din of the storm as I drew closer to inspect the tracks.

"Well, they can't go too far out here," I observed, my voice raised to be heard over the thunder. I examined the path of the tracks. "They break away from the first set down here and then veer to the right. It looks like they head to the back of the toilet block."

I didn’t need to signal Sarah; her instinct had already kicked in. She was swiftly following the trail, waving at me to catch up. "It's here!" she called out, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and urgency.

"Shit!" I muttered under my breath, quickening my pace to join her. As I approached, I saw what had caught her attention: a car with its passenger side door left wide open. Cautiously, I moved towards the car, my senses on high alert, as Sarah followed, her gun drawn and ready.

"They must have taken off on foot," I shouted through the rain, scanning the area for any sign of the drivers. "There's nobody here."

Another thunderclap echoed, merging with the sound of the storm. As it faded into the distance, a sharp clang rang out, startlingly close, from the direction of the toilet block.

Sarah instantly pointed her gun towards the small building, her posture tense and alert. The toilet block, nestled in a small clearing, was about ten meters from the forest's edge. Two large myrtle trees flanked its sides, their branches scraping against the tin roof in the growing wind.

With my gun drawn and at the ready, I signalled for Sarah to cover me as we approached the toilet block. The tension was palpable, each step deliberate and cautious. “Police!” I called out authoritatively. “Come out slowly with your hands up.” My voice echoed against the concrete walls, swallowed by the storm’s cacophony.

Another thunderclap boomed directly overhead, almost in response to my command. It was quickly followed by another metallic clang from within the toilet block, heightening our alertness.

I indicated to Sarah that I was going in first. Glancing up, I noted the unisex sign on the entrance – a small detail, but it meant there would only be one room to clear. Simplicity was a small blessing in situations like this.

Gun leading the way, I rounded the corner into the interior of the block. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows across the walls. Water dripped steadily from a small hole in the ceiling, the sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise silent space. The interior was surprisingly spacious for just two cubicles, the farthest one ominously closed. I gestured towards it, silently communicating its presence to Sarah as she stepped in behind me.

I slid along the wall, my movements slow and calculated. Peering into the first cubicle, I found it empty. I signalled to Sarah, who nodded in understanding. The tension was like a physical force pressing in on us.

Just then, the wind howled through a gap in the roof, and another peal of thunder resounded above. The dim light flickered ominously several times before plunging us into complete darkness. Reacting quickly, I pulled out my flashlight and held it under my gun, casting a narrow beam of light ahead.

A spectrum of colours danced under the door of the closed cubicle. My skin prickled with a mix of anticipation and dread. Outside, the car radio crackled loudly, a dissonant accompaniment to the storm and our tense situation.

The adrenaline-fuelled moment I kicked in the door of the corner cubicle was a blur. The door snapped open with a violent swing, revealing a glimpse of a crouched woman with long, silver hair before it shut again, plunging the room into darkness. In that fleeting glimpse, a spark of recognition flickered across my mind, but I couldn't immediately place it.

Frozen by the brief encounter, I stood motionless, unable to process what I had just seen. Sarah, ever decisive, stepped in front of me and pushed the door open with her foot, her gun at the ready.

"It's empty," Sarah announced, her voice tinged with surprise. She turned to look at me, her expression puzzled by my lack of response.

"What the fuck's up with you?" Sarah asked as we stepped back into the rain. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I remained silent, my mind racing, trying to make sense of the fleeting image I had seen.

The radio's crackle broke through my reverie. "CITY632. Are you there?" the voice called.

I hurried back to the patrol car, slipping in the muddy terrain. "CITY632 here. Go ahead," I said, almost growling into the radio as I threw open the door and grabbed the handset.

"CITY632. Still no sightings of either car. Patrols will remain on alert for the next few hours. Over."

"Copy that. We have located one of the vehicles. We are here with it at the start of Myrtle Creek Forest. Looks like it has been abandoned," I reported back, still trying to shake off the unsettling feeling from the toilet block encounter.

"Copy that, CITY632, patrols are on their way."

"Understood. CITY632 out."

I sat in the driver's seat, my gaze fixed on the toilet block, lost in thought. The decision to wait for the additional patrols and leave the scene to forensics felt like the only logical move. My mind was still reeling from the mysterious figure in the toilet block and the unreal sense of recognition.

"Come on then," I called to Sarah, urging her to join me in the car, away from the relentless rain.

As Sarah paused at the passenger side of the car, her attention caught by something in the distance, I tried to discern what had captivated her. She was staring intently towards the trees where the walking trail began, but from my vantage point, I couldn't make out anything unusual.

Sarah tapped on the side of the car and waved for me to get out.

Her tap on the car and gesture to join her piqued my curiosity. "What is it?" I asked, stepping out into the relentless rain again. "Let's just wait in the car, this rain doesn't look like it's letting up any time soon."

"I think I've found something," Sarah replied, a hint of excitement in her voice. She moved towards the entrance sign of Myrtle Forest Walk, deftly avoiding the growing puddles.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" I asked, following her with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"This!" Sarah exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a small bracelet she had picked up from the ground. "And these footprints in the mud are fresh," she added, her voice tinged with the thrill of discovery.

"Those footprints could belong to anyone," I countered, trying to remain pragmatic despite the mounting evidence.

"But I don't think this does," she retorted, thrusting the bracelet in front of my face. The initials "G.C." were engraved inside it.

My skepticism faltered as I looked at the bracelet. Perhaps Sarah is right, I considered, the possibility dawning on me.

"I'll go call it in," she announced, turning to head back to the car.

"No," I responded instinctively, grabbing her arm to stop her. She looked at me, surprised by my abruptness. "Not yet," I said, releasing my grip.

Sarah shook her arm, readjusting her jacket sleeve with a flick of her wrist. Then, without a word, she headed down the walking trail.

"Sarah!" I called after her, my voice laced with frustration. "Let's wait for the other patrols to arrive." But she didn't stop, determined to follow the new lead.

I let out a sigh, torn between protocol and the urge to follow the trail of clues Sarah had discovered. After a moment's hesitation, I decided to chase after her. The rain, the mud, the unanswered questions – none of it mattered now. We were on the cusp of a breakthrough, and I couldn't let Sarah go it alone.


As we trudged along the forest trail, the minutes stretched out endlessly. With each step, I scanned the dense woods to either side, looking for any sign of Gladys. Despite our efforts, the feeling of futility began to set in. Finally, I had to call a halt.

"Sarah!" I called out, but she continued forward, undeterred. Frustrated, I chased after her. "Sarah, stop it! This is madness!" I shouted, my voice tinged with desperation. "If Gladys is out here, we're never going to find her," I reasoned, hoping to bring some sense to our seemingly fruitless endeavour.

"Why won't we find her?" Sarah shot back, her voice sharp with emotion.

"There's too much forest. It's raining, cold and muddy. We're just two people out here," I explained, reaching out to turn her towards me. It was then I noticed her distress.

My concern deepened as I saw tears rolling down her face. "What's wrong?" I asked, my voice softening.

"Nothing," she replied hastily, her hands wiping at her wet face.

Her response didn't match her expression, but I knew pressing her for answers wasn't the right approach at the moment. Gently, I cupped my hands around her face, looking into her eyes. In a moment of shared vulnerability, I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her. It was a gesture of comfort, a reassurance that we were in this together.

"Thank you, Karl," Sarah murmured softly, her head resting against my chest. We stood there, enveloped in the steady rhythm of the rain, lost in a moment of quiet solidarity.

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