Black Matter

by G D Parker

  After a month had gone by, Tommy was finally discharged from hospital. His physical state had improved after weeks of rest, medical care, physio and some counselling. He was told that he would have died if he hadn’t received medical treatment within a couple of days, so he had been lucky that he was arrested when he was – which of course Tommy didn’t agree with. He would have happily died, rather than face the hell he was about to endure.

  The presence of the press outside the hospital was alarming for Tommy. He was classed as a high-profile criminal, and the police were forced to protect him from a mob that protested they wanted him dead. Tommy didn’t take this too well. It was only a matter of months earlier that he had been living a decent life. Now he was being pushed into the back of a secure, unmarked police van with a blanket covering his face on a journey to life imprisonment, where the outside world would become a distant memory. The worst thing for Tommy was dealing with the fact that he felt innocent. He didn’t care what evidence was out there, he believed that he had not committed those crimes.

  Back at the station, Valentina didn’t waste any time. Tommy was in that interview room so fast, his head spun. As he walked in, Anita was sitting at the desk with a detective opposite.

  ‘You look much better, Tommy,’ said Anita. ‘Do you remember what we talked about?’

  Tommy nodded and sat next to her. Valentina sat opposite Tommy. She was eager and ready to probe and prod Tommy’s brain until she got a confession.

  Valentina started with the basics. Where were you at this time? What do you remember? etc. However, Tommy genuinely didn’t remember anything at all and proceeded to explain this. Valentina showed the CCTV footage of Tommy in the bank, of which he had no memory. She explained all about Nicola Wakefield and how she had been murdered in her bed. Tommy again had no recollection of any of this and had no understanding of his link with her death.

  The biggest shock to Tommy was the murder of Taylor’s mum, Sharon Gillingham. Why would he kill her? For what reason? This upset Tommy greatly and he became distressed. He’d always got on well with Sharon; she was a lovely woman, and he’d apparently killed her in cold blood.

  Valentina read out the statement written by Taylor herself, who was currently in hospital with serious facial and shoulder injuries. Tommy couldn’t comprehend all of this information and broke down. He lost control, slamming his fists on the desk in front of him.

  ‘Fuck you all! I didn’t do all this, I swear to God as my only witness!’ Tommy shouted.

  ‘Sit down, McGregor, or you will be restrained!’ threatened Valentina.

  ‘No, I want to go! You can’t keep me here!’

  ‘We can, and we will. We have up to ninety-six hours to charge you, and we’ll be putting all the evidence to the CPS by close of play today. In my experience, this will go to trial, so sit your arse down.’

  There was a polite interruption from Anita. ‘I think my client needs a break,’ she looked Valentina straight in the eye, serious and direct, showing that she knew Tommy had rights.

  ‘Ok, we are suspending the interview at sixteen thirty-two hours at the request of Miss Fowler.’

  The cell was still cold. Tommy sat up against the wall with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, holding a cup of coffee between his hands. Again, the allegations rotted his brain. Having no memory of the events created great frustration and confusion, and he knew prison was inevitable.

  After a two-hour rest, he was escorted back to the interview room. The same people were in attendance. Valentina looked pleased with herself, as though ready to give Tommy some bad news.

  ‘So, Tommy, the CPS has approved your case with the evidence that has been submitted, and you will go to trial. Due to the nature of your crimes, you will be remanded in custody during your trial and until the outcome of your case has been confirmed. Do you have any questions?’

  ‘No, no questions.’ The life that once existed inside of Tommy evaporated out of him. His soul changed. He was an innocent man going on a murder trial and he knew it was going to be hell. He hated the fact that he’d been labelled as a murderer. It was something he never ever thought possible. He found himself with his back to the wall. There was nothing he could do to prove he hadn’t done those things. Suicide became his next train of thought.

  11

  Anderson parked up in a lay-by just on the outskirts of Cardiff, locating the bin near where Tommy had dumped the money from the robbery, which had been hidden deep in the shrubbery. Anderson was surprised it was still there after all this time, but the money was damp with a few notes half eaten by slugs and insects. He hadn’t been able to take any chances until the police had charged Tommy, which gave him the comfort that this wouldn’t get traced back to him.

  He counted the money in the back seat of his car and was amazed to see £32,000 in cash there in front of him. He felt this was now his money; he had earned it. He smelt it and absorbed its scent, then packed the money into a large leather holdall and tossed the carrier bags out of the window, driving off back to his apartment.

  It was late afternoon on a Tuesday, two days after Tommy had been charged. The roads were heavy, and it took Anderson some time to get back. He drove a blue Vauxhall Corsa. It was an old banger that was falling apart with irritating rattles and squeaks, which caused Anderson to punch the dashboard hundreds of times – cars were of no interest to him whatsoever. His mind was greatly invested in something much more appealing.

  The rented apartment he lived in on his own was immaculate. There was not a single thing out of place, with no clutter clogging it up. Anderson liked to keep things minimal, so that he had complete focus on his project, which to date, was proving to be successful.

  He’d spend an average of ten hours a day in one room. It had a large bench desk that ran from one side of the room to the other. Above the desk were three large wall-mounted screens with only a single keyboard and a mouse in the centre.

  In front of the desk was a large black leather chair, which was badly worn and looked well-used. Anderson took a seat, double tapped a button on the keyboard, and the screens lit up the room. He was examining the displays, taking in the information, when there was a knock at the door. He paused for a while before going to answer it.

  ‘You disgust me!’ exclaimed Emily as she pushed her way in.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Anderson asked.

  ‘The way you groped me when you were in my house! You scared me! Lucky I don’t have you taken out for doing that!’ Emily walked into his room and sat on the black leather chair, crossing her legs.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m an opportunist!’ Anderson replied with his hands held out, as if that was a decent answer with a twist of cockiness.

  ‘You’re a pervert and you disgust me! I threw up because of that and the thought of you doing you know what.’ She looked down towards his crotch area.

  ‘Anyway,’ replied Anderson, ‘I take it you’re here because you have something for me?’

  ‘Touch me like that again and you’ll be sorry, and yes I have the money. All I need is your account details, and you’ll receive your fifty thousand,’ said Emily.

  ‘What, why only fifty thousand? What about the one hundred K you promised?’ Anderson was shocked at the large reduction.

  ‘I deducted fifty K for your disgusting groping stunt whilst controlling Tommy’s mind. I hated you doing that! Take it or leave it, I don’t give a shit!’

  Anderson held out both hands to calm her. ‘Remember who came to who, yeah. You contacted me on the Dark Net to kill someone, don’t forget that! How much did you get?’

  ‘Two hundred and fifty grand. My mother had good life insurance. Well, I’ve not had the full whack yet, but it’s coming,’ Emily declared.

  Smug cow, Anderson thought to himself. ‘Whatever, here’re my details.’ He handed over a card, and Emily logged into her bank account, completing the transfer.

  ‘So, what now?’ asked Anderson.

  ‘You know the p
lan. We’ve been through it a thousand times. Lay low for the time being. Keep your nose clean and get ready for the next phase.’ Emily pointed at the computer equipment. ‘This stuff is all that links us to Tommy and his crimes, so do whatever it is you geeks do to cover your tracks.’

  ‘It’s all in hand. There is no trace, so chill! Thanks for the money. I will see you soon. Any chance of a quick hug?’

  ‘No chance! Shouldn’t have pulled that pervy stunt! I will be in touch okay!’ Emily’s voice was stern, but she smiled, as if to indicate that it was okay.

  As Emily walked down the stairs, she saw Tommy’s front door was open and decided to enter to see what was happening. Taylor was standing there and Emily couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Taylor. She looked gaunt and drained, and her face was an absolute mess. It was clear she was having a tough time. Emily’s frown took over her face. She had pure hatred towards Taylor.

  ‘Saw the door was open and thought I’d have a look. You look a mess!’

  ‘Just go away!’ replied Taylor.

  Emily smiled; she couldn’t help herself. She then pointed her finger straight into Taylor’s face. ‘You know what, you fucking skank, you deserve everything you get!’

  ‘What do you mean? Why does any of this have anything to do with me?’ Taylor asked.

  ‘Because you ruined my life!’

  Taylor was taken aback by the extreme accusation. ‘How?’

  ‘My dad left my mum because of you! It turned our whole family upside down!’ Emily exclaimed.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Taylor was already defeated. She had no energy and no fight left inside her. She just wanted to collect her things and go home.

  ‘Look in the mirror, you fucking bitch!’ Emily went for Taylor, grabbed the back of her head and forced her to look into a large mirror on the wall. ‘What do you see? What do you fucking see?’ Her words seethed through her teeth.

  ‘M,m,my ugly face,’ cried Taylor as she tried hard to turn her head away, but Emily overpowered her.

  ‘What else?’ Being physically stronger, Emily forced Taylor’s face closer, so that this time she was almost touching the mirror. There was the temptation to completely push her face through the glass.

  ‘M.I.C.K, carved on my face!’ Taylor continued, crying. She was horrified by the image that stared back at her. ‘Let me go!’ She tried to fight.

  ‘No, and who was Mick, you slut?!’ Emily’s words seethed through her teeth again with a hiss of pure hatred and anger.

  ‘Please, leave me alone.’ Taylor was still trying to fight back with no success.

  ‘Awww, please leave me alone,’ Emily mocked in a baby voice. ‘He was my dad, my dad!’ She placed her hands on her chest and tears began to roll down her face, ‘and you took him from us! We had everything, and you deserve everything you get! It’s Tommy I feel sorry for. He’s the innocent one, but we needed him!’

  ‘W,what do you mean?’ Taylor was confused by Emily’s words.

  ‘Nothing, now go and rot in your pitiful life.’ Emily pushed Taylor’s forehead with the palm of her hand, causing her to fall to the ground with a wince. ‘Oh, and by the way, Tommy’s great in bed! Said I was the best he’d ever had.’ Emily just had to get that last dig in, but Taylor couldn’t care less.

  Emily walked out of the apartment, feeling satisfied that she had finally managed to speak out to Taylor after all those years, but also feeling emotional. She had finally sought revenge for her dad walking out on her and her mother, then killing himself. She’d also held her mum responsible for all of this. It was her mum, Nicola, who had put her work first, had turned her back on Emily’s dad and hadn’t given him the attention that he desired, causing him to go off with Taylor. She’d always hated her mum for that, and having her murdered hadn’t been that difficult, due to the amount of resentment she had built up over time. Now she was entitled to a lot of money, so it was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned.

  Tommy’s cell was 13ft by 10ft with a sorry-looking steel-frame bunk bed against the wall, a message board full of graffiti, and a filthy toilet in the corner which leaked, leaving a vile smell of urine that burned anyone’s eyes who entered the area. Cell E2-7 wasn’t exactly luxurious accommodation - it was built for a murderer like Tommy McGregor. He was in one of forty-five cells in the first night centre of the prison’s induction unit. This was where men who had been sent down by the courts began weeks and months on remand, awaiting trial or for their sentences for crimes ranging from murder and rape to owing fines.

  Being on remand was almost the same as being in prison as a convicted criminal as far as Tommy was concerned. He might have been allowed to wear his own clothes and have access to his own money, but all that did was make him a target in the prison world. He had a cell to himself, which was appreciated, however, with no one to talk to for hours and hours on end, his mind fed on the negative thoughts that taunted him.

  Tommy dreamt up various scenarios of killing himself. He thought about hanging himself, but he was too scared. He considered getting hold of antifreeze and downing a pint of the stuff, but he couldn’t get access to any. He also thought about slitting his wrists, which again he was too scared to do. However, that didn’t stop the avalanche of thoughts - the longer it went on, the more intense it got.

  As a mere shell of himself, Tommy became grey and withdrawn. The HMP system didn’t help him in the slightest, and this was purely down to Tommy actually being innocent in his own mind. He didn’t remember the crimes. He had been there but only as a physical entity. However, no one believed him. With the evidence stacked up against him - eye witnesses, CCTV evidence and DNA - a life sentence was inevitable.

  Tommy’s breathing increased dramatically as the lights went out at 10pm. The noise level from the other prisoners always increased at this time, as they wanted to be heard, shouting anything and everything. There were loud bangs from mugs being knocked against the cell doors and screaming and shouting until a guard came round to shut them up. Eventually things quietened down, and this was Tommy’s moment.

  The sheets were easy to stretch as they were pretty much made of plastic. Tommy tied them round a rail on the top bunk. He moved slowly with a sense of calm in an attempt to keep the noise levels down to a minimum. The sheet was in place creating a loop for tying the noose. By using his body weight, the knot would become so tight, it would need to be cut off when they found him – hopefully dead.

  He then took off his jogger bottoms and detached the waistband. It separated fairly easily with little noise. This was the tool that would be taking his life. Once this was attached to the sheet, his noose was ready and he was ready. He sat on the edge of the top bunk with the waistband around his neck. All he needed to do was slip off the edge and that would be it, his troubles would be over and the world for those who knew him would feel like a better place.

  1, 2, 3 Tommy counted in his head, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to, but his body just wouldn’t allow it. By now, the whole centre was silent. The odd snore could be heard, but that was about it. He thought about his old life, the one he had loved, and how he’d had everything he ever dreamed of. His mum and dad had been proud of him. He’d had a beautiful but nutty girlfriend, who was by far the sexiest woman on the planet as far as he was concerned. He’d also had a good job and a nice home. The Tommy from back then still had plenty of ambition left in him. Now, that spark, that zest for life, had died. He wasn’t Tommy McGregor anymore; he was a murderer, a cold-blooded killer in a world that didn’t need him.

  Millimetre by millimetre, Tommy edged forwards. Each sharp breath was assumed his last. What was seconds felt like hours. He moved again, his backside on the very edge. One more movement and it would all be over. He focused hard on what he was doing and his reasons. Fear filled him. He was scared to die. He was scared of the pain he might feel, but he reassured himself that it would only be for
a moment, and then nothing; no pain, no hurt, no more of this mess of a human life. He then slipped off the edge of the bed.

  12

  ‘Who is this guy we are meeting?’ asked Emily furiously. ‘These types of people aren’t to be fucked around with and they’re certainly not people I want to engage with!’

  Anderson became frustrated. ‘Em, listen right, if we are going to arrange this, we need to have the right people to do it for us. So, unfortunately, it takes a special kind of person for what needs to be done.’ He placed a hand on her shoulder as a means of comfort, followed by an inappropriate wink.

  ‘For fuck sake,’ Emily said feeling enraged. ‘Can’t I just leave you to deal with it?’

  ‘No Em, if this goes wrong, that will make me the ultimate suspect. We started this together and we finish it together. So, unless you are in it with me, you can fuck off!’ Anderson literally turned and walked away. Of course, all this was just an act - reverse psychology.

  ‘Anderson, get back here!’ Emily surrendered. ‘Okay, I’ll come with you... God sake!’

  He knew this would get under her skin. She was so paranoid about the police finding everything out. They only had two options; either to have Tommy killed in prison or have him escape. Having him killed was by far the easiest and quickest choice.

  ‘So, the guy we are meeting goes by the name of Joey,’ Anderson explained. ‘Don't ask his last name - I don’t know it. Thinking about it, Joey is most probably a fake name anyway.’

  ‘Okay, so what does he do?’ Emily asked.

  ‘What do you think he does, Em? We are meeting him here for one reason and one reason only, and you know why that is, so work it out.’

  Emily just stared at him without an answer.

  They were sitting in a Costa Coffee in the city centre. It was the place where Joey had arranged for them to meet him. They had no idea what he looked like, what he’d be wearing, or anything. The instructions were simply to be there by 11.25am and no later. They were there on time, of course. They were feeling slightly wary, their stomachs knotted, with no idea how the conversation was going to go – both were completely out of their depth.