Storm Force: A chilling Norfolk Broads crime thriller (British Detective Tanner Murder Mystery Series Book 7)

by David Blake

  ‘The tide is too strong. You’ll be swept away. Look!’

  Tanner was right. During the few seconds they’d been talking, the distance between the Fairline and them had already more than doubled.

  ‘Then you do something! We can’t just stand here watching my daughter be carted away by some deranged fucking lunatic!’

  Tanner’s mind whirled as he stared frantically about. Catching Christine’s eye he called out, ‘Can you start the engine?’

  ‘I’m trying,’ she replied, her body hunched over the throttle, frantically twisting and re-twisting the key. ‘Nothing’s happening. It must have flooded.’

  The distant sound of sirens had him lurching up onto the side. ‘OK, try dropping the anchor. I’m going to see if I can talk to him. I think there’s a squad car approaching; maybe two. If I can hold him up long enough for them to get here, we may just have a chance of stopping him.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

  LEAVING CHRISTINE TO launch herself down the side of the boat, heading for where the anchor was stowed, Tanner stood high on its side. ‘Mr Sanders!’ he bellowed; a hand cupped around his mouth. ‘Detective Inspector Tanner, Norfolk Police.’

  ‘I know who you are,’ came the man’s aggravated response as he continued clambering his way over the wreckage.

  ‘Then you know why we’re here?’

  Instead of replying, Sanders raised a foot up onto the solid steel girder spanning the bridge’s length, heaving Chapman’s daughter kicking and screaming with him as he went.

  Hearing the clatter of the patrol boat’s anchor chain rattling out over its bow, Tanner once again lifted his voice. ‘There’s no way we’re going to be able to let you get away, Mr Sanders, not after you’ve murdered no less than four innocent women.’

  ‘I only count three,’ the man barked back in response, stopping to catch his breath. ‘I’d be willing to admit that I did take their lives in error,’ he continued, his eyes finding Tanner’s, ‘but don’t worry, inspector, it won’t be long before I correct that mistake, which should end up with us both being right.’

  ‘Then let’s discuss a deal,’ Tanner offered, watching Sanders continue to inch his way along the base of the bridge, dragging Alice Chapman after him. ‘The girl in exchange for a reduced sentence. But you’re going to have to let her go first.’

  Sanders stopped again. ‘And why the hell should I do that? She’s the one who started all this. It’s her you should be after, not me!’

  ‘But, Mr Sanders, she’s done nothing wrong!’

  ‘Oh, right! You mean apart from murdering my two best friends?’

  ‘You’re mistaking her for someone she isn’t,’ Tanner continued. ‘She’s not the same girl whose body you discarded over the side of your boat.’

  Sanders took a moment to stare down at the swollen river, hurtling its way beneath his feet before returning his gaze to Tanner, the first signs of uncertainty rippling over his brow.

  ‘Whoever killed your friends,’ Tanner continued, ‘it wasn’t the girl you were with that night. It certainly wasn’t the one you’re dragging behind you now. Her name’s Alice Chapman. She’s just a schoolgirl, not one of your friends’ part-time prostitutes. It was her father who saw what the three of you did, watching through a telescope. He’s the one who’s been trying to blackmail you.’

  Tanner could now see clear signs of doubt stabbing at the corners of Sanders’ eyes as the sound of sirens grew ever closer, disjointed lines of blue flashing light beginning to dance in the downpouring rain.

  ‘If that’s true,’ Sanders began, ‘then who killed Michael and Toby?’

  ‘I’ll admit, we don’t know the answer to that – not yet – but it wasn’t Alice. I mean – look at her, man! She’s barely fifteen years old!’

  Tanner watched as Sanders took a moment to stare into the sobbing petrified face of the girl held in his vice-like grip, before his eyes swung slowly back to meet Tanner’s. ‘But – the girl on the boat. I saw her swimming away. It must have been her.’

  ‘The girl you threw over the side of your boat is dead, Mr Sanders. Even if she was still alive when you did, she’d never have survived long enough to make it back to the shore.’

  Sanders hesitated for a fraction of a second, restless indecision playing out over his eyes. ‘Fine!’ he eventually spat. ‘Have her! She was slowing me down anyway.’

  With that, he let go of the girl’s wrist, shoving her away as he did.

  Tanner looked on in horror as he watched Alice’s feet immediately slip on the girder’s greasy wet surface, her body plummeting over the edge. For one frantic moment he thought she wasn’t going to stop, continuing down into the turbulent water below, when he saw one of her flailing hands latch itself around the beam she’d been standing on moments before, leaving her gangly legs dangling helplessly underneath the low hanging bridge.

  ‘ALICE!’ the father screamed, launching himself onto the patrol boat’s side.

  ‘Daddy, help me! I – I can’t hold on!’

  Chapman shot a desperate look at first Tanner, then Christine, scrambling her way back to the wheelhouse. ‘Can’t you get this damn thing started?’

  ‘We’re doing the best we can,’ Tanner stated, as the patrol boat snagged hard against its newly set anchor.

  Taking a moment to glance frantically about, Tanner threw a glance over at Sanders, side-stepping his way along the girder to where the bridge met the land. He then looked at the girl, rain dripping from her soaking wet body as she stared desperately up at her pale delicate hand, as if willing for it to maintain its eroding grip. From there his eyes fell to the water separating them from the stricken Fairline. It may have been only a few meters away, but it may as well have been a million miles. There was no way they’d be able to get to her, not from where they were, snagging against their anchor as the overflowing river swept relentlessly past.

  The distant whine of an engine had his head jolting around. Blasting down the river towards them was a powerboat, its pointed white hull stark against the unforgiving landscape beyond.

  ‘That must be Vicky,’ he muttered to himself.

  Turning his head back, he could see Alice’s elongated fingers beginning to slip. Making a rapid assessment of the distance between the approaching patrol boat and the base of the bridge, he shook his head. ‘They’re never going to get here in time.’

  The sudden appearance of a police constable’s head, gawping down at them from over the top of the bridge had Tanner gazing up. ‘Can you reach the girl?’ he shouted, dragging the man’s attention down to where Alice was hanging, only the whitened tips of her fingers now hooked around the girder’s edge.

  Seeing him nod to immediately throw himself over the top of the iron red structure, Tanner dared to let out a juddering breath. If she can just hold on a little longer.

  It was then that she fell, her pale skinny body slipping gracefully through the air to instantly vanish into the swirling blackness of the water below.

  Stunned into silence, with his heart pounding deep inside his chest and the father’s voice endlessly screaming out her name, Tanner trained his eyes on the water’s foaming surface, doing his best to follow the surging current from the point where he’d seen her fall.

  Precious seconds passed as nothing but gallons upon gallons of river water swept its way past with cruel unforgiving dispassion. As the section of water he’d been doing his best to follow flooded past the hull above where he stood, with still not a single sign of the girl, Tanner was about to turn to face the father to offer him a look of sorrowful remorse, one he’d borne so many times before, when something caught the corner of his eye. It was the girl, a meter away, her head facing down as her body rotated slowly around.

  Without daring to think, he launched himself off the boat, plunging headfirst into the unseasonably cold swirling river.

  As his borrowed lifejacket inflated around his ears, his head burst out through the surface, his mouth gasping at the air.
Wiping water from his eyes to see the girl’s body, just up ahead, he kicked hard with his feet, his hands jutting forward to drag themselves back. One more stroke and he’d reached the girl, flipping her body over so that her nose and mouth were facing the sky. With one arm locked around the base of her chin, he swivelled her around to try and drag her back through the current to the boat from which he’d leapt. But it was no use. The force of the water was just too strong. The harder he tried, the further away he seemed to become.

  As savage burning pain began tearing at the muscles in his legs and arms, he was about to give up to leave themselves at the mercy of the tidal flow, when looming into view came the hull of the boat he’d seen before.

  ‘John!’ came the sound of a woman, her voice he instantly knew.

  Blinking water out of his eyes, he gazed up to see Vicky’s face, her arm stretching out towards him.

  ‘Take my hand!’ she called again; her jaw clamped together as her body strained to reach still further.

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  Sucking in a breath, he lifted himself up, his hand reaching for hers.

  For one paralysing moment he thought he was too late, when he felt his wrist suddenly snatched from the air. As water began surging past, he used the last of his strength to hoist the girl up into waiting hands before climbing up himself.

  Collapsing onto the wheelhouse floor, he turned to see the patrol boat’s driver breathing air down into the young girl’s lungs before pumping his hands down onto her chest. He continued to watch in silence as the man cycled between the two, eventually stopping to breathlessly press two fingers against her neck, searching for signs of a pulse. But the way her eyes were staring up, and the purple hue surrounding her nose and mouth, it was obvious to everyone on board that she’d taken her last breath a long time before.

  CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT

  WITH HIS FLAGGING wet limbs trembling uncontrollably from the cold, Vicky accompanied Tanner to the shore to help guide him into the awaiting hands of two paramedics.

  ‘D-did we c-catch Sanders?’ he stuttered, beginning to follow them over to where their ambulance was parked.

  ‘Looks like it,’ Vicky replied, steering his attention over to where a young police constable could be seen placing a hand on top of his head to lever him down into the back of a squad car.

  Silence followed as Tanner was helped up into the ambulance. As one of the paramedics gave him the once over whilst the other threw a blanket over his shoulders, Vicky sought to catch his eye. ‘What are we going to do about Chapman?’

  Tanner’s mind was instantly transported back to the sight of the man’s daughter, her lips the colour of lavender, her eyes dead and vacant. Inhaling deeply, he let out a capitulating sigh. ‘I suggest we let him go.’

  ‘But – what about his blackmail letters?’

  ‘I think his greatest crime was to have successfully convinced Sanders that the girl they threw over the side of their boat that night had somehow survived,’ Tanner began. ‘If he hadn’t done, Sanders wouldn’t have had a single reason to have laid so much as a finger on those women he killed; more to the point, his daughter would still be alive. That’s something he’s going to have to carry with him for the rest of his life. Anyway,’ he continued, glancing up at the nearest paramedic. ‘Will I live?’

  ‘You have a mild case of hypothermia. Ideally, we need to get you out of those wet clothes.’

  ‘I’ll get changed after work,’ Tanner replied, glancing down at his watch to push himself up to his feet. ‘I doubt if a few more hours is going to make much difference.’

  ‘And where do you think you’re going?’ Vicky demanded, watching him barge his way past the paramedics.

  ‘Back to the station. Where did you think?’

  ‘We can handle Sanders.’

  ‘No doubt you can, but there’s the question of McMillan. According to my watch, we’ve got less than twenty minutes before he’s legally entitled to walk, and I need to know if that missing evidence found the light of day before allowing him to do so.’

  ‘Then I can phone them to find out,’ she replied, searching for her mobile.

  ‘I’m sure you could, but I’m also fairly convinced that Forrester is expecting me to be there in person, whether the evidence has turned up or not.’

  CHAPTER SIXTY NINE

  HITCHING A RIDE in a squad car, Tanner and Vicky made their way in convoy back to Wroxham Police Station, Sanders safely handcuffed in the back of the vehicle directly in front of them. On their arrival, amidst a storm of flash photography courtesy of the bedraggled press pack, Tanner stepped back out into the still torrential rain to escort Sanders safely inside.

  After formally checking him in with the duty sergeant, he turned to make his way through the double doors into the main office when he came face to face with DC Townsend, a folder clasped in his hands.

  ‘Afternoon, sir,’ the young man began, bringing himself to attention. ‘I think this is for you.’

  Taking the folder being held out for him, Tanner quickly scanned his eyes over the report found inside. With Townsend waiting patiently to be dismissed, the flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, just as the voice of McMillan’s solicitor had him turning slowly around.

  ‘If you came to see us off, inspector, there really was no need. I’m sure you must have far more pressing matters to attend to.’

  ‘Mr Crabtree!’ Tanner exclaimed, fixing his eyes first on the solicitor, then over at his client standing next to him offering him a broad malevolent grin. ‘And Mr McMillan! I didn’t know you were still here.’

  ‘Not for long,’ the solicitor proclaimed, a guiding hand being placed behind his client’s back as he continued ushering him towards the station’s exit.

  ‘Before you go,’ Tanner called out, spying McMillan’s two weary bodyguards rise slowly to their feet. ‘I thought you might be interested to hear that our forensics department was finally able to unearth some evidence.’

  The solicitor stopped where he was to stare over at him. ‘That’s fascinating, inspector, really it is. But as you can see, your time with my client has officially expired.’

  ‘Aren’t you curious to know what it was?’ Tanner questioned, his eyes glancing furtively down at the file left open in his hands.

  ‘I’m fairly sure that neither my client, nor myself for that matter, could care less.’

  Tanner flicked over a page. ‘The hacksaw found locked inside the Riverside Gentlemen’s Club stationery cupboard: their report says that the blood found on its blade did indeed belong to Sir Michael Blackwell. It also says that your client’s fingerprints were found on its handle as well.’

  ‘Then I suppose it’s a shame that you weren’t able to produce the evidence a little sooner.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Tanner replied, looking up with a wistful smile. ‘But then again, technically speaking, you haven’t left the building yet.’

  The solicitor opened his mouth as if in preparation to present Tanner with some indisputable legal caveat.

  Watching him close it again a second later, Tanner glanced behind him to catch Townsend’s eye, gesturing for him to block the exit.

  ‘Mr Terrance McMillan,’ he continued, turning back, ‘I hereby charge you with the murders of Sir Michael Blackwell and Mr Toby Wallace.’

  Seeing the way McMillan was gawping at him with a look of abject horror, Tanner almost felt sorry for him. ‘Not the best news, I know,’ he added, taking an apologetic tone. ‘However, looking on the bright side, at least you’ll be able to continue your stay with us, free of charge, I may add. You also won’t need to go scrabbling about in search of a solicitor, as there appears to be one standing right next to you. I’d have to admit that he’s probably not the best one in the world, else he’d have waited until you’d left the building before saying his goodbyes, but I don’t think it will make much difference. Apart from having caught you in the act, so to speak, I’d say the evidence we have i
s about as conclusive as it’s going to get.’