Fallen Angel

by Angus McLean

  Fallen Angel

  Chase Investigations #7

  Angus McLean

  Copyright 2018 Angus Mclean

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2018 Angus McLean

  All rights reserved.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks go out to all those readers who keep me inspired. Once again, huge thanks to “Tori” who does my covers and provides great advice – you rock.

  To those advisors who have helped me with the technical details, and to my law enforcement colleagues who run to danger on behalf of us all, thank you.

  Most of all, to my family. You are everything to me.

  This is a work of fiction, and all errors are the responsibility of the author.

  Introduction

  Thank you so much for buying my book. I am excited to share my stories with you, and hope you enjoy them.

  If you’d like to know about new releases and receive a free book, sign up to McLean’s Hitlist at www.writerangusmclean.com or email me at writerangusmclean@gmail.com.

  Chase Investigations series:

  Old Friends

  Honey Trap

  Sleeping Dogs

  Tangled Webs

  Dirty Deeds

  Red Mist

  The Division series:

  Smoke and Mirrors

  Call to Arms

  The Shadow Dancers

  The Berlin Conspiracy

  The Service Series:

  The Service: Warlock

  Nicki Cooper Mystery Series:

  The Country Club Caper

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Bonus Chapters

  Author Page

  Bibliography

  Chapter 1

  ‘I didn’t do it.’

  Mike’s words bounced round in my head, over and over. I believed it, but right now it didn’t really matter.

  The handcuffs were biting into my wrists and I was pretty sure my left one was broken. The gravel was grinding into my cheek and I was struggling to breathe.

  A 100kg cop kneeling on your back will do that. He was puffing and dripping sweat on the upturned side of my face. I tried to move to open my lungs up, and the cop pressed down harder.

  ‘Stay down,’ he growled, dripping a bit more on my cheek.

  I had no option so I stayed down. I was lying on the ground near the back of an electrician’s van. The van belonged to Mike’s neighbour, Simon. I’d seen Simon at the gate only a few minutes before when I arrived. I hadn’t spoken to him as I ran past.

  If only he felt like coming and helping me up right now though, I’d talk to that guy all night.

  I shifted my head for a better angle and could see Mike. He was also face down on the ground, only a couple of metres away from me. Another cop was kneeling on his back, holding one wrist and about to cuff him.

  His eyes met mine across the gap.

  ‘Whatever they say,’ Mike said, ‘don’t believe them. I didn’t do it.’

  It was hard to nod when I couldn’t breathe, but I did my best. Of course I believed him. Mike wouldn’t lie about something as important as murder.

  ‘Shut up,’ the cop on his back snapped, pausing with his handcuffs ready. ‘No talking.’

  Mike held my gaze.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘I said…’

  In the next instant it was all on for young and old. Mike’s a fit, strong guy. Ex-soldier, muscle head, works out all the time. In fact he was still in his gym gear. He bucked the cop off him before the cop knew what was happening, and scrambled to his feet. The cop grabbed at him but Mike was off, sprinting across the car park and out of my sight.

  I heard the cops both yelling, the crackle of radios, the rattle of the iron fence round the boundary of the apartment block.

  The crash of undergrowth and Mike was gone.

  The cop who had arrested me lifted up, shouting into his radio, and I half rolled onto my side. I sucked in a huge breath, my back and wrists aching, my lungs screaming. The oxygen was like vapour nectar and I gulped it in.

  I looked around, seeing the other cop disappearing over the fence into the shrubs at the roadside. I knew he was too late.

  Mike was gone and there was a dead girl in his apartment.

  I sighed and let my forehead rest on the rough asphalt. So far, the evening sucked.

  ***

  ‘For the hundredth time,’ I said, ‘I don’t know where he is.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  The man across the small table from me was a wiry detective sergeant named Karl Vance in a white shirt with his tie double-Windsor knotted. I found double-Windsor’s pretentious.

  I’d never met him before, didn’t work with him when I was in the cops. He was on the Major Crime Team here at Auckland Central. We were in a DVD interview room, and had been for what seemed like a life time. The air was stuffy and the overhead light was too bright.

  It wasn’t the ideal way to spend a Sunday night/Monday morning.

  ‘How can I be lying?’ I rubbed my left wrist gingerly and gave him quizzical.

  ‘You’re not telling me the truth, Dan.’ Vance leaned forward, his elbows on the table. I could smell his coffee breath. His skin looked dry and tired. His curls were coppery and tight. He went for solidarity. ‘Come on, mate, you were a D back in the day. You know how this goes. A girl’s dead, your mate was last seen with her and now he’s on the run.’ He shook his head gravely, making sure I understood he was serious.

  I took a breath before answering. ‘How can I know where he is when I’ve been in Police custody since we were both arrested? The only people I’ve spoken to are you, the uniformed cop who arrested me, and that idiot Kennedy.’

  I glanced at the screen on the chunky DVD unit against the wall. I knew the idiot in question would be watching; Detective Inspector Hugh Kennedy. There was a standard joke among cops that once you made commissioned rank you had a frontal lobotomy. Apparently it turns you into an unfeeling retard. Kennedy had his at birth.

  ‘The clock on the DVD says it’s now 2am. I was arrested at 11pm. I’ve been talking to you for the last hour and a half. Prior to that I was sitting in a cell for an hour.’ Vance was giving me dead eyes across the table. He knew where I was going. ‘In tha
t time I’ve answered all your questions. I don’t have the answers you want.’

  Vance opened his mouth to interrupt but I held up my hand. ‘With respect, I haven’t finished yet.’ He paused, gritting his teeth. The beauty of recording interviews on DVD is that the interviewer has to appear professional. That was a skill I mastered as a detective – appear professional and reasonable, while slipping a knife between the suspect’s ribs.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m being charged with anything, I haven’t been given my rights, I haven’t spoken to a lawyer, and I haven’t seen a doctor.’ I held my left hand up to show him my wrist. It was bruised and puffy. ‘The cop that arrested me hurt my wrist, I think it’s broken. I asked for medical assistance but that hasn’t happened.’

  I put my hand down again. ‘Enough’s enough. It’s time to either charge me or release me.’

  ‘I hear what you’re saying.’ Vance nodded his understanding for the camera. ‘And I really appreciate your time, Dan. I didn’t realise you had a sore wrist, but we can get that sorted out.’

  ‘Funny.’ I wasn’t smiling. ‘I told you about it before you turned the camera on.’

  His face darkened. ‘Just a few more questions…’

  ‘No.’ I sat back. ‘I’ve had enough.’

  We held a stare-down across the table for a long moment. I won. Vance sighed and turned to the camera. He stated the time and hit the Stop button.

  When he turned to me his lips were pursed. ‘You’re not really helping yourself, Crowley. This is a murder and you’re in it with your mate. Playing games on camera isn’t gunna help you at all.’

  I gave him bemused. ‘I’m not playing games, Vance. If I could help, I would. I know this is a murder; I’ve been in your seat before. But Mike didn’t do it.’

  ‘So who did?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m sure you’ll crack it. Even with Kennedy calling the shots you’ve got a hope of solving it.’

  The door opened then and Kennedy entered. His comb-over was flopping around and he needed a shave. His green shirt was wrinkled and loose round his chicken-neck. Like Vance, he’d obviously been called in from home for this. Even on a good day it’s hard to look good with a sunken chest and a face like a ferret sucking lemons.

  ‘Always gotta be the smart guy, don’t you Crowley?’ His beady eyes were fixed on my chin. It’s not that I have an impressive chin, it’s just that Kennedy struggles to make eye contact. It’s one of his many foibles. ‘Well, your number’s up with this one, pal. You’re going down.’

  I laughed. ‘Seriously, Kennedy? Have you been watching Dragnet reruns?’ I felt my lip curl as I stared at him. ‘Just the facts, ma’am. And so far, you don’t seem to have any.’

  He glowered as best he could. Vance busied himself popping the discs from the machine and labelling them.

  ‘So what’s the charge; Accessory to Murder? Conspiracy? Treason?’ I looked him up and down. ‘There needs to be something to justify arresting me, breaking my wrist and detaining me without access to a lawyer.’

  ‘You’re here as a witness,’ Vance interrupted, ‘you knew that from the start, Crowley.’

  ‘Really? Here’s something else I know, Vance. The Bill of Rights Act, Sections 9, 22, and 23. You might want to look them up sometime.’ He smirked at me. ‘You’re talking big bucks there, mate, if I were to take a claim.’ I glanced at Kennedy who was watching silently. ‘Your boss here knows I won’t hesitate; he’s lost before, so don’t push your luck. It’s time for me to see a doctor and then go home.’

  An hour later I was standing on the footpath outside Auckland Central, my wrist – sprained, not broken – strapped and throbbing. I had a script for painkillers and anti-inflammatories in my pocket, and a head that was buzzing with a million thoughts.

  Despite my earlier threat, suing the cops was the last thing on my mind right now.

  Mike was on the run, hunted for a murder I knew he didn’t commit, and only we could help him.

  By the time Molly’s black Golf slid to the kerb a few minutes later I had a plan.

  I got in beside her. She looked tired but beautiful and being with her instantly made me feel better.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said. ‘We’ve got work to do.’

  Chapter 2

  Mike slipped through the gap between the broken fence palings into the yard, stepping to the side so he was flat against the fence.

  It was a landscape supplies yard, and he could see pallets of material arranged in categories nearby. Bays to the left contained sand, gravel and stones.

  He was breathing hard and drenched in sweat. It had been a circuitous route to get here and his legs were burning from the effort.

  He’d run from the apartment complex in Mount Wellington, managing to burn the cop with relative ease – it was dark and he knew where he was going; the cop didn’t. It had been a fast run to his gym, where he had left his mountain bike chained up earlier in the day.

  With a murder suspect on the run cops had flooded the area and the chopper was soon overhead, but Mike was running for his life. He’d pedalled hard for half an hour in the general direction of the eastern suburbs, sticking to residential streets. He’d reached St Heliers bay, chained the bike up outside a block of shops, and hopped on a bus into the city.

  Another bus had taken him to Manukau City Centre and from there he’d hopped another one to Papakura.

  The bus stop was at the train station, across the road from the police station, so it was seemingly a dumb move to literally turn up on their doorstep.

  But Mike didn’t think so. In the early hours of the morning there were a minimum number of cops on duty and the station was basically just a patrol base with units going in and out.

  Plus, he was now in a different police district from where the murder had taken place. Dan had told him that communication between the districts was not smooth, so that chances were the Counties-Manukau cops were less likely to be looking for him than the Auckland City cops.

  Mike had wasted no time in getting a jog on, heading further south again. He realised that if this was a movie he would steal a car, but this was real life and like most law abiding citizens, he had no idea how to actually do that.

  He had stuck to side streets until he had no choice but to get onto Great South Road and follow that main thoroughfare down to Drury, the last settlement before the motorway. He ducked off GSR as quick as he could and had found himself here in the landscape supplies yard.

  Standing in the darkness now he got his breathing under control and took stock of himself.

  On the plus side he had a decent wad of cash in his pocket, thanks to two fast stops at ATMs either side of midnight at Manukau. He’d hit the maximum daily amount each time on both cards and now wouldn’t touch them to avoid leaving an electronic footprint. He wasn’t injured and he wasn’t starving just yet.

  On the down side he was soaked in sweat, he was knackered, and he was alone. He was in sweaty gym shorts, a -shirt and cross-trainers. His phone was back at home so he had no way of contacting anyone. He had no idea what he was going to do next.

  Oh, and he was wanted for murder.

  Sarah. Sarah was dead, slaughtered in his apartment. Poor Sarah, she was a nice girl. She didn’t deserve to die.

  Mike took a deep breath and worked his tongue, trying to moisten his mouth. He knew he had flipped out back there and he knew it hadn’t helped his cause at all. It would be great to say he had no idea why he’d done a runner, but he did. He knew exactly why. The thoughts in his head sometimes made him do strange things.

  Maybe a head-shrinker could explain why but Mike had no interest in pouring his heart out to a stranger. Some things were best left unsaid, buried in the past where they couldn’t hurt anyone.

  But maybe that was a flawed plan. Whatever was right and whatever was wrong didn’t really matter anymore. He had done something that would have long-lasting consequences.

  All in all, things were looking decidedly
grim about now.

  ***

  Even without half a pot of coffee buzzing through my system there was no chance of me sleeping.

  We were at the dining room table, where we did a lot of our best thinking. The lights were low and it was almost dawn outside. The weather was that usual late March climate, overcast but hot during the day and cooler at night. It had rained a few days ago and the garden could do with some more.

  Molly was wide awake now too, and had listened to me talk for more than half an hour. I needed to talk, to clear my head of everything that was bouncing around. It had been an eventful night since Mike had called me. He’d been rushed, not panicking but definitely urgent, blurting out that he’d come home and found Sarah dead in his apartment.

  He’d called me, I’d told him to call the cops and ambulance, and I’d whipped round there from home. I was wearing shorts and a T shirt, grabbed my jandals on the way out and had remained like that throughout my interview with the redoubtable Detective Sergeant Vance.

  When I turned up Mike was standing at the door. He had blood on his hands and his face was white. He was scared, shocked and starting to flap. I’d taken a minute to check her. She was definitely dead. Lying face down on the lounge floor, blood matting her hair, fully clothed.

  Well, what passed for fully clothed with Sarah; denim shorts that were most definitely short, a singlet over a sports bra, and little sandals.

  Sarah was a flight attendant who lived in an apartment upstairs from Mike. They weren’t a couple as such, but had a pretty long – standing mutually beneficial relationship, if you know what I mean. She was a pretty girl and on the few occasions I’d met her, seemed nice enough. I don’t think there were any long term plans there, but I also knew within myself that whatever happened to her, Mike didn’t do it.

  ‘Obviously the cops have other ideas,’ Molly said. ‘As you would.’

  ‘There was no sign of forced entry – well, none that I saw anyway, and he said she has a key.’ I stood and stretched. My back clicked in two places, and when I rolled my shoulders they both crunched as well. I’d had better nights.