48
Before his boss and colleague got to the scene, Augustine was working his way over the threshold. The door opened with only the slightest creak. He stopped it in its tracks and waited for a few seconds before starting to push again. It opened and revealed his hallway. But nothing else. There were no obvious sources of light. Augustine could only see light coming from the living room from outside the house. His best bet was to start there. As he approached the door, the light he expected to creep around the bottom of the door wasn’t present. Augustine dropped slowly to the floor and saw something laid across the bottom of the door. He had no idea what it was but assumed it had two purposes. Firstly, to block out the light, and secondly to slow anyone trying to enter the room.
Augustine decided that raw power was the best bet. He had watched far too many episodes of Top Gear than was healthy for a grown man and pictured Jeremy Clarkson shouting ‘powwweerrr,’ as he floored the accelerator. Channelling his inner-Clarkson (not something recommended under any other circumstances) and smashed his shoulder into the door. It opened rather more easily than he expected and within a second he ended up on the floor. Augustine jumped to his feet and looked around the room. Nothing. Then he heard footsteps upstairs. He turned around and made his way to the bottom of the stairs near the front door.
He rushed up the first few steps before looking up. He saw nothing but the faint glow of a computer screen from the back bedroom. He walked the rest of the steps, looking to see what was above him. Augustine tiptoed like the crashing sound of him barging into a door downstairs hadn’t just happened. When he reached the top of the stairs he gasped. Sat tied to his computer chair was Lou. He was sat on the right of the room with Augustine’s desk pulled over to the left with a laptop sat squarely opposite. Augustine tasted vomit. Not enough to spit out, but enough to coat the inside of his mouth. As he looked back towards Lou it became obvious that there was a man dressed full in black was stood behind the computer chair with a large knife in his hand.
“There’s no need to use violence. We can work this out,” Augustine said to the figure who was now moving the knife slowly closer to Lou. It wasn’t in an attempt to harm him, but to warn the third person in the room that he shouldn’t come any closer.
“We both know that’s not true, detective. How are you going to work something out with someone who in your eyes is a serial killer? Either I go to prison, I die or you do. There’s nothing else to work out from this situation,” Al replied. His logic was sound. Not all of them were going to leave the room as free men.
“Don’t do anything hasty. I’m more interested in the life of my friend than catching you. If I need to let you go to save him then that’s what I’ll do,” Augustine explained. He wasn’t sure whether he meant what he had just said or not, but his concern for Lou was at the front of his mind. He looked at his colleague and friend and wondered what it would take to get him out alive.
“That won’t happen,” Al replied, “In fact, you have arrived to see the end of events, not the beginning. You might think that you have arrived just in time, detective, but your friend has become somewhat of an internet sensation. He has starred live on Facebook for the last twenty minutes while I have let the people of the world know the message that you have tried to cover up. I came here for you, but this one will do.”
Augustine looked around the room for answers. Fucking Facebook. He never liked social media. This was the final blow. If he got out of this alive then he would remove his profile immediately. It was as though he had been hit in the chest with a hammer. He could see the death in Lou’s eyes. It was as though he had given up. Augustine looked again at the man stood over his colleague. He had killed before. He would have no qualms about doing to again, Augustine was sure of that.
“It’s his first time on Facebook – shame it will also be his last. He has spent the time begging for his life and agreeing that my mission is a righteous one,” Al explained with glee in his voice. It was the voice of someone who truly rejoiced in the mayhem they were causing. As he spoke, Augustine edged closer. He wasn’t trying to get between Al and Lou, but to look at the screen of the laptop and see if the claims he made were correct. He was spotted.
“Go ahead! Look at the screen. There are thousands of people watching and more tuning in all the time as word spreads. The internet is a marvellous thing. News spreads like wildfire. People may recoil in horror at a killing when the read about it in the news but they can’t help watching when given the chance. The mob mentality exists in every human being. Look at how many people go back and watch videos of others being beheaded. I think we should bring back public executions. The public would pay more for that than they do to watch Arsenal. And it’s twice as entertaining. It would solve the deficit in no time at all,” Al was back in monologue mode. He was enjoying the power that the situation brought him. He enjoyed the power he had in all his killings. It was a power he hadn’t experienced in the rest of his life. He didn’t mind Augustine looking at the screen and even encouraged him to say ‘hi!’ to the watching world. He laughed when the detective moved his head away from the screen as not to be live on the internet at the scene of his friend’s downfall.
“My work is almost complete for this year. The last killing was supposed to be you, detective. This is your home, right?”
Augustine nodded.
“But you left this other detective here with me. Now he will die, you too and the world will know the message I have begun to deliver. I will complete it next year, but that won’t mean anything to you. By then you will have already become fish and chip paper. One police dead makes headline news. Three dead makes people go numb. They stop thinking about this in terms of the police and start to think about their own life. The last policeman was a martyr. You are part of the wider message. You can become heroes like me. You can save the people of the earth,” Al spoke as though he was addressing Augustine but every word was put in the direction of the camera and the Facebook live event he had created.
Augustine picked up on this. He knew that this was all about the show.
“I don’t think this is still live. The Wi-Fi in here is temperamental. I have all kinds of problems with it,” Augustine offered, pointing at the screen. Al was incensed by this news. He dropped the knife and made his way over to the screen, pushing Augustine out of the way. As Al reached over the screen, Augustine picked the printer up from the desk and brought it down hard and fast on Al’s head. The back of his head took the blow before the front of his head crashed into the desk. He dropped to the floor, mumbling some words, apparently in a daze. Augustine tried again with the printer, but the force of the first blow meant that it fell into parts on the killer’s back rather than landing with the same satisfying thud as the first time. He looked around the room for something else. There was nothing. Fucking minimal living, Augustine thought to himself. He picked at the rope that tied Lou to the chair. That chair was the only thing left in the room that was sturdy enough to deliver a blow that would render Alaaldin Hussein useless. As soon as Lou was free he ran down the stairs. There was blood coming from his wrists where the rope had been tied so tightly as well as a gash in his leg inflicted by Al in the first few moments of the live stream he had been forced to be a part of. Lou knocked on the next door as hard as he could and shouted with the last volume he has left in his lungs. Lights came on in the upper rooms of a few houses in the street. Some windows opened. He felt safe.
Augustine let the chair crash down on Al’s body just as he was starting to climb to his knees again. Augustine added a kick for good measure. The killer stopped moving for a short time before kicking out at Augustine’s shins. The blow made Augustine recoil and grab his left shin in his hand. The other hand steadied him against the wall. In this position of vulnerability, he could see Al jump to his feet and start swinging punches. The laptop had stayed more or less in the middle of the desk and was relaying the scene to those that were still watching. It was obvious that Al didn’t
quite know where he was, like a boxer who had been stunned but saw attack as the best form of defence.
The swings were getting wilder and all it would take was for one to land. Augustine sensed it was the time to move forward but was caught flush on the side of the head by one of the blows. He dropped to the floor reaching out with his hands for something to steady his swirling head. But there was nothing to save him. Al made one final blow to the detective before dropping a piece of paper on his chest. He picked up his laptop and ran down the stairs and into the cold of the night. He ran past Lou without glancing at his former prisoner and disappeared into the distance on the left before the flash of blue lights appeared at the opposite end of the street.
49
Christine walked over to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. She had been invited to meet the people Augustine worked with.
“Two lagers, two ciders and two white wines,” she said to the barman, who had already served the same round of drinks several times that night and was busy pouring before the words came out of her mouth.
She spent most of the night talking to Lou. As soon as she saw him, she knew they would get along. He was everything Augustine had described. She loved to hear him laugh. Lou thought that he had laughed for the last time. That was the thought that kept entering his head. All the time he was sat in that chair facing the laptop, the overriding thought was that he wanted to laugh again before Alaaldin Hussein killed him. He built up a laugh inside his stomach and tried to add to it. He would think about the television comedies that he used to watch endlessly on repeat or one of those moments with his wife. But he couldn’t bring it out of his body onto his face. That was when Lou conceded defeat. When all the laughter had been driven from his body did he resign himself to his fate.
Christine went to meet the team with a mixture of sadness and joy. These were the people who helped Augustine Boyle put the worst criminals in the city behind bars. She wanted to meet them all and hear about how they worked together to keep the streets safe, but missed Augustine so much. She had found happiness and seen it taken away twice in two dates with this man. Christine thought she wouldn’t date ever again.
She thought about Augustine sat in intensive care fighting for his life. The doctors were not hopeful that he would pull through. This was the second date they had been on that had ended in some form of tragedy. She would spend as much time as possible by his bedside but meeting the team he worked with felt like it was a suitable excuse to leave for a few hours. The monitors bleeped and blinked by his bed. Augustine looked nothing like the man she had met on that date. She feared he would never be the same again.
THE END
Like what you’ve read here? Want to know what happens to Al, to Augustine and the rest of the detective team? Get the next instalment of the Augustine Boyle series - CRIMINAL.
While the cat is bedridden, the mouse will play.
Augustine Boyle failed in his mission to catch the serial killer Alaaldin Hussein last year. Now he is laid up in bed, wondering if his life will ever be the same again. His headstrong nature will cost him everything he treasures, including his job, his heath and his love.
As his slow, painful recuperation continues, the man he was tasked to catch is back on the streets of Washington, England. Alaaldin Hussein has spent the winter months plotting his killings, choosing his targets. Their paths will cross again.
Trapped in a body that doesn’t perform in the way he wants; Augustine has the added pain that his team is being led by Gary Hole. Once his understudy, always undermining Augustine, Gary has a different style that places him at loggerheads with the other detectives.
If the team of detectives stand any chance of catching the killer that is terrorising the town, they must put their personal differences aside and work together. The alternative is deadly.
Read the first chapter now –
1
Rose and Alex sat on the beach looking out to the sea. It was the first warm Spring day of the year and they loved the seaside. The fact that the cool breeze took away some of the heat from the sun didn’t matter. All they wanted was to make the most of the great outdoors after being cooped up inside for most of the winter. For Rose, the winter felt like she was a caged bird. The passing of the cold and into the warmth meant she could spread her wings and fly again. He daughter Alex was starting to feel the same; the influence of her mother was strong in their life.
Rose unpacked a picnic for the two of them. It was still before eleven in the morning, but they had been up and out since straight after an early breakfast and the two of them were starting to feel the pangs of hunger that a good walk and playing on the beach brought. The fact that there was fresh sea air mixed in with all that activity only brought the hunger on more. The simple fact was that the two of them wanted something to eat. They didn’t need set times to tell them that – just the message from the belly that sustenance was needed.
Alex was always excited by a picnic. The sandwiches wrapped in foil with the shiny side inwards always intrigued here. Rose couldn’t tell her why she did this, but it was her way. Rose loved being quirky in her own small way and wrapping sandwiches in tin foil the opposite way to the rest of the world gave her that feeling of being a free spirit that filled her heart with little bundles of joy. These added up to make the whole heart sing. ‘The best things in life ARE free,’ Rose thought to herself as she assessed the packages she was assembling on the blanket between her and her darling daughter. Alex was surveying the bundles of food and deciding what to open first. Mother and daughter both liked the same foods, so the parcels of food were interchangeable, as many things in their life had grown to be. As she reached her teenage years, Alex had almost caught her mother up in terms of size. So now the relatives could swap clothes, eat the same food and generally live a parallel life with each other. Alex loved her mum and wanted to be just like her. She opened the first foil-wrapped goodie and licked her lips with anticipation – an egg and cress sandwich! Alex loved the way that carrying a picnic made the sandwiches squish, so the filling showed around the side of the wholemeal bread. Matching this with some crisps, Alex picked it up and started to eat into it. Bite one was sandwich, bite two crisp, so the two flavours intermingled and slowly became one.
The sea was on a slow retreat from the shore and felt more distant with every wave; the sand drying in a jagged line further away from their blanket and feet. It had been cold when they paddled along the shore earlier in the day. The sun wasn’t strong enough and hadn’t been out for long enough to change the chilly water of the night into something that resembled tolerable warmth. They paddled anyway, making the most of something that nobody else on the beach was remotely interested in, save a few dogs. It wasn’t the only thing that they were the only two humans to do that day. The picnic raised some glances and sniggers form those that walked past. It was a distinctly British thing to do, but with the rise of the coffee shop there wasn’t as much appetite for this as when Rose was young. She ignored the looks and carried on passing out the food she had prepared immediately after breakfast. That was the best time to pull together a portable meal.
Alex was somewhere else. Her mind had wandered away from the beach and on to another one. The beach on their next summer holiday, to be precise. Alex was very particular about where they spent their summer holiday and researched all of the options before delivering a recommendation to her mother. Rose didn’t mind passing this responsibility on to her daughter. It was one less thing she had to deal with. Being a single parent since her husband had left almost five years earlier had taken its toll on Rose. She was strong, so very strong, to begin with but felt as though she needed someone to pick up the odd task every now and again. Alex had stepped into this role with maturity. They were an effective team. Alex imagined the people on the beach in front of her, many still wrapped in warm clothing, were on the beach she had researched for their summer vacation. Instead of wearing warm clothes, she imagined them now wearing bathing suit
s, swimming trunks and the like. She imagined that the sea was nearer, the heat was stronger, and the food was local. There was nothing wrong with what she was experiencing, but her mind wandered on occasion.
Alex counted the people from as far left to as far right as she could see.
“One, two, there, four…”
The group that looked from a distance like a family of four, running backwards and forwards like they were playing some kind of game. Alex couldn’t decide whether the dog she saw next was with them, or the next group.
“…five, six…”
A couple that might or might not have been walking the dog, Alex decided she would look back when she had counted fully to see which party the dog belonged to. They were too distant to decide. Even with the early-year sun, they still looked hazy. The bodies away from the sand were clear, but the legs and feet were a cloud of movement.
“…seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…”
A group of lads were playing football on the beach. She assumed that they were playing three on each side, because of the number. She looked across just as there was a lull in the match. The ball had rolled away towards the sea, and all but one were catching their breath. Hands on knees were a sure sign that they had been playing this at a fair pace. Football on the beach is always competitive, especially between friends. The last of the six was rushing towards the sea to fetch the errant ball. He would have to carry on without a rest, Alex suspected. The team couldn’t stand being a man down in such a small sided affair.
Personal Page 21