Lethal Dose; Lethal Justice; Lethal Mind

by Robert McCracken

  ‘Alec, did you tell the Inspector about the old wood-store. Jemima keeps extra stocks of oak there. Pieces of old trees mainly.’

  ‘They wouldn’t go up there, Daphne,’ said Alec. ‘Not at this hour.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Tara asked, her voice raised in annoyance at the bungling man.

  ‘Not far. Up by Melling Mount.’

  They called for back-up as they rushed to the wood store. On the way Murray posed yet another awkward point.

  ‘Three of the victims, mam, the bodies were found in woods. If they are doing someone else tonight they could be anywhere.’

  ‘I know, but they must use somewhere for all the preparations. This store might be the place where they make those damned circular frames.’

  Murray pulled over opposite the entrance to a narrow lane that stretched into the darkness. It was just possible to make out the roof of an old barn in the distance. Suddenly, lights appeared in the lane.

  ‘Down,’ said Murray. Both of them slid down in their seats. Tara watched the two lights of a vehicle gradually approach on the straight part of the lane. When the car reached the junction with the road, it halted briefly then turned right. As it did so she saw only a darkened figure at the wheel.

  ‘That’s the Merc,’ said Murray. ‘What now?’

  ‘Follow it.’ As they moved off Tara instructed the back-up unit, upon arrival at the lane, to proceed all the way to the barn.

  Murray followed the Mercedes at a safe distance. There was little traffic at this hour and on this road, so he had to hang back further than he liked in case the driver became aware of them and got suspicious. It was now well after midnight and, with another glance at her watch, Tara felt that time was running out if the killers had taken another victim. The Mercedes wasn’t travelling at speed, and Tara tried to imagine where it might be going. They passed through Maghull, and soon it was clear they were headed toward Sefton, but suddenly the Mercedes slowed and, without signalling, turned right. Murray drove on by for a few yards then pulled over.

  ‘That’s no more than a lane,’ he said.

  ‘Give it a minute and then we’ll follow.’

  No lights were visible when Murray pulled into the lane. The gravel soon petered out and they rumbled along on little more than a dirt track with grass growing up the centre. Hedges came and went to either side, but it was impossible to gauge exactly where they were. But for the headlights on their car, there was no other artificial light around them. The Mercedes had disappeared into an even deeper darkness. At one point Tara reckoned they were close to a river as she glimpsed moonlight bouncing off water. Then Murray slowed the car when they came to a narrow bridge.

  ‘Where do you want to stop, mam? We’d be better sneaking up on them rather than letting them know we’re coming.’

  ‘Is there no end to this damn lane?’

  ‘It’s leading into those trees ahead of us.’

  ‘Call for some help. We can’t just assume there are only two of them. For all we know we might be dealing with a gang of blood-letters.’ Murray stopped the car, while he made the call for assistance. Tara felt her stomach rise and her heart pounding. She was now certain that someone was about to die at the hands of the Collywells.

  Chapter 86

  ‘What the hell are you doing here? Can you get me off this bloody thing?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr Guy.’

  ‘Why the hell not? You’re my supervisor, you’re supposed to help me.’

  ‘Tonight I’m not here to help you. I’m here to kill you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re a curse on normal society, a cancer, an evil being. You have a debt to pay.’

  ‘I’ve done my time, you friggin’ eejit. Get me off this thing. Where’s Aeron? What have you done with her?’

  ‘My sister will be along any minute.’

  ‘Your sister?’

  It was then I realised that I’d been set up. Aeron hadn’t just walked into that bar and taken a shine to me. The two of them had planned it. But what the hell was their game? I hadn’t done them any harm. Then I began to wonder if they were the relatives of one of my girls. That somehow they had figured out I had taken their sister.

  ‘If you have no further questions I’ll leave you in peace and quiet until Aeron arrives.’

  He fucking disappeared again, me yelling my tits off.

  ‘Collywell, why are you doing this? Where are we?’

  I got nothing.

  Felt like bloody hours, lying there in the dark, freezing cold. I had pains in my arms and legs, and my neck was cramped. All I wanted was for Aeron to show up so I could talk to her. Get her to listen to reason, to see some sense and get me off this bloody thing. I didn’t understand what this man was about. Was he some kind of vigilante? Charles feckin’ Bronson? I couldn’t stop shivering. If somebody didn’t come soon they wouldn’t have to kill me; I’d freeze to death. Then I heard voices, quiet, whispers even. I called out, hoping it was somebody else, some randomer passing by who could help me. That maybe that prick Collywell had buggered off. Though what kind of passer-by do you get in the middle of nowhere at this hour of the night? I guessed it was the middle of the night. Really I hadn’t a clue, I might have been out of it for days. Then I recognised her voice. Sweet.

  ‘Aeron, luv. Come on, what have I ever done to you? Get me out of here.’

  ‘James, I’m glad you’re awake. Wouldn’t want you to miss anything.’

  She stepped over me and stood astride my waist, hands on her hips. In the darkness I couldn’t make out her face, just the outline of her trim body.

  ‘What is this? We were having a good time. What did I do wrong?’

  ‘You need to ask the victims of your crimes.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your brother knows I’ve done my time.’

  ‘That’s not enough, James. We have a duty to remove the likes of you from this world.’

  ‘You’re fucking nuts, luv. Off you’re bloody trolley.’

  ‘Now, now. Don’t get angry. It’s better if you’re calm. It won’t take long.’

  ‘Calm? For God’s sake, Aeron, wise up!’

  ‘Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Mr Guy,’ said Jason Collywell.

  I watched as he handed something to his sister. I couldn’t make out what it was until suddenly a torch was shining at my left side. It looked like a big drill or something. Then Aeron crouched down and pressed it into my hand. I yelled liked a smacked child when the damn thing clicked and something sharp went right through my hand and into the wood. Hurt like fuck. The whole time I was trying to figure out how they knew about me, about all the things I’d done, the women I’d had. No way could they have known everything.

  ‘No, please don’t! I haven’t done anything.’

  She stepped around me, the torchlight now shone to my right, and again she crouched down. This time I didn’t hear the click, I was screaming so much. The fucking pain was crazy, and I don’t know why but I tried to bring my hands close to me. The pains shot up my arms and next I know I was throwing up. I felt her touching my right foot, pushing it sideways against the wooden frame. Another click and I screamed again. A nail went through my bloody foot. Tears flooded my eyes and the slabbers came down my nose. She took hold of my left foot and a nail went through it, the pain shooting up my legs, and as my body jerked the shock raced through my arms. My whole body throbbed. Somehow my screaming stopped. I had no energy left, and I was trying to get the vomit out of my mouth. Either that or I would choke. I knew now that I would soon be dead.

  ‘Not long now, sweetheart,’ said Aeron, leaning over me. She stroked my forehead. ‘Anything you’d like to tell us? Confess your sins before you stand before God?’

  ‘Fuck off!’

  ‘Just a few final words. I’ll say goodbye, sweetie.’

  I saw the torch shining down upon a book that Jason was holding. Then the cruel fucker started reading aloud.
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  ‘Our final reading, James, is taken from the Book of Proverbs, chapter twenty-one, reading from verse 15. ‘It is joy to the just to do judgement: but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity. The man that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in congregation of the dead…’

  Chapter 87

  They’d brought torches from the car, and stepped off the lane into the trees. The ground was soft, but it helped muffle the sounds of their feet. Murray led the way, choosing the route, although it was merely a guess that the Collywells had come in this direction. They’d found the Mercedes in the lane and had parked up right behind it. The Oak-bespoke van was parked a few yards further along. Tara was sure she’d heard screams as she’d climbed from the car, but they were some distance away. She had no idea how far the woods extended, it was unfamiliar territory, but Murray whispered that it couldn’t be more than a couple of hundred yards from one side to the other. Going was slow and difficult. They met a patch of brambles and tried edging through. Thorns ripped at her jacket, snagging her jeans and tearing her skin. Then suddenly a few yards distant she caught a glimpse of light.

  ‘Did you see that?’ she whispered to Murray.

  ‘Yes. It seems to be static. Don’t think it’s coming toward us. You move to the left a bit, and we’ll try coming at them from two directions.’ She did as he’d suggested but soon encountered more thorns and brambles. Murray’s light seemed to be moving faster. He called back in a whisper.

  ‘Turn off your torch.’

  Now it was impossible to judge her steps or what lay in front of her. She could see little more than the outline of trees and the pin-prick of light ahead. As they edged closer to the light Tara heard a man’s voice. It sounded dull, low monotones as if he were reading. She wondered how best they could tackle them. They had no weapons. She fumbled around her, searching for a piece of tree branch, anything she might use to defend herself. She couldn’t find anything. They should have waited for support but then they may already be too late to save whatever poor soul had been taken. Murray waited for her to draw level. They stood side by side, she feeling precious comfort from the touch of his arm. A few yards in front she could make out the figure of a man, head down and reading by torchlight.

  ‘The wicked shall be a ransom for the righteous, and the transgressor for the upright…’

  Murray and Tara shouted as one.

  ‘Police! Stop where you are! Police!’

  They rushed towards the man, flicking their torches on as they went. Only then did she notice the body prostrate on the ground.

  Jason Collywell was startled by the shouts as Murray rushed him. The big framed cop thundered into him, pushing him backwards. Collywell stumbled then fell. The wind knocked out of him.

  ‘You’re too late,’ he gasped.

  Tara caught Jemima Collywell in the beam of her torch. She had raised a huge axe above her head ready to bring it down upon the body beneath her. Tara flung her torch. It hit Jemima in the face. She yelped, and the axe fell behind her as she collapsed on the ground.

  ‘Take him,’ Tara said to Murray. ‘I’ll get her.’

  Jason Collywell seemed resigned to his fate. As he attempted to regain his feet Murray, with a shoulder charge, thrust him down into the damp earth.

  ‘It’s all right, officer, no need for any more violence. My work is done.’

  Jemima was not so passive. Getting to her feet, she charged off into the darkness. Tara retrieved her torch and followed. Ahead of her she saw the girl fall several times, tripping over tree roots and stumbling into potholes. Soon though she was clear of the trees, into an open field, and her speed increased. Tara kept her in sight as she ran. As they approached the edge of the field Jemima suddenly dropped from view.

  Tara noticed the light of her torch shimmering on water. The river. She ran the last few yards. When she reached the bank she saw a drop of at least four feet to the water’s edge. Sweeping an arc with the torch, she caught sight of the girl below her and a few yards to her left.

  ‘Stop, Jemima! Don’t go in the water. You won’t make it.’

  Ignoring Tara’s warning, the girl waded into the river. Tara caught her again in the torchlight. Jemima began to swim towards the far bank, but in a few strokes she was floundering. Tara could either leave her to it, or go in after her. There was no way the girl was making it to the other side. She slid down the grass and ferns of the bank, and met the water feet first. But as she tried to wade in she was instantly out of her depth and, like her quarry, had to swim. The cold took her breath. Gasping, she forced herself toward the girl. Grappling in the darkness, she was guided only by the splashing of Jemima’s arms. By chance only she caught hold of the girl’s hair and pulled.

  ‘Leave me alone! Let me go.’

  ‘No, Jemima. You’re going to live, and you’re going to pay for what you’ve done.’ Tara grasped the girl’s hair and slipped an arm around her shoulders as she felt them both swept along by the current. The pain from the cold shortened her breath as Jemima struggled to break free. At times Tara was forced under, and couldn’t avoid gulping the water. But somehow she gathered strength to control this girl, and she did so by pulling ever tighter on the long blonde hair. The struggles sapped her energy, but Jemima too was growing weaker. Then suddenly her feet scraped over rocks and stones. She could touch the bottom. They came to rest where the land flattened out and the river became shallow. In the darkness, she reached out for the reeds at the river’s edge. Shivering uncontrollably, she dragged Jemima to safety and pushed her down into the long grass. Finally, she no longer felt any resistance. Jemima, in a trembling heap, coughing and fighting to draw breath, had at last surrendered.

  Chapter 88

  Soon the area was awash with police officers. Lights from cars and ambulances cast a different hue upon the woods. Jason Collywell, in handcuffs, was marched toward a police van. Tara watched him go. He tried his best to look all around him. It was clear he was searching for signs of his sister. Jemima was receiving attention in the back of an ambulance for a cut to her head and for mild exposure. A team of paramedics were working in the forest to remove the latest victim from a deathly circular frame. He had been lucky, relatively lucky.

  She met up with Murray at their car. Her wet upper clothing had been removed and she snuggled under a blanket.

  ‘Well done, you,’ she said. She was so happy to see him again.

  ‘Thanks. You didn’t do so badly yourself, jumping into the river. I’d have let the bitch drown. Was she really so important to you?’

  ‘Absolutely. Hopefully we can get the full story now. If she’d drowned we might never have known.’

  ‘There’s the brother?’

  ‘Mmm. For some reason, though, I’d like to hear her side of things.’

  A young female uniform brought them two plastic mugs of tea, and Murray asked her if she had anything to eat.

  ‘Polo Mints,’ she said, walking on.

  ‘Gee thanks.’

  ‘Did you get a look at the poor sod on the frame?’ Tara asked.

  Murray looked at her but didn’t reply at first.

  ‘He’s been nailed hands and feet to the wood. Paramedics are trying to get him free.’

  ‘Did you recognise him?’

  At that point Superintendent Tweedy appeared, his face as grave as ever.

  ‘Good work, Tara and Alan. You saved a life, I believe.’

  ‘Sir,’ Tara replied, trying to hold the blanket around her and at the same time manage her cup of tea.

  ‘We’ll talk in the morning. Get yourselves off home to bed. You’ve done more than enough for tonight.’

  Torches and brighter lanterns emerged from the darkness of the trees. A group of paramedics carrying a stretcher were assisted by several uniforms. She walked towards the ambulance to catch a glimpse of the man whose life she and Murray had saved. As they waited for the rear platform of the ambulance to be lowered she squeezed through the group of medics an
d stared down upon the conscious face of the man lying on the stretcher. He had an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, but still she could not help but recognise the face.

  ‘You!’

  Clearly in pain, and now under the influence of some relieving drug, he managed to fix his gaze upon her.

  ‘Hello, Tara. Fancy meeting you here.’

  Chapter 89

  They sat around the desk in Tweedy’s office, the Superintendent, for a change, also seated. A lot of work remained for his team to do in this case. Evidence had now to be assembled in clear and unambiguous form. Not only had they to review statements given by Jason and Jemima Collywell and all facts connected to their actions, but there were cases pending against Janet Malcroft, Elsie Greenwood and Carl Sloan. Much work had to be done, in co-operation with Cheshire Police, concerning the unidentified remains, including two human heads, found at the Vera Deitate farmhouse.

  A week since the arrest of the Collywells and Tara had finally managed to establish the true motive behind their actions. Jason Collywell had been very co-operative and proud to tell their story. Jemima was less so, deep remorse having taken over, particularly her realisation that she had destroyed the lives of her much loved adoptive parents. Her devastation was compounded when Tara had told her that her real mother Kelly had most likely died of natural causes. Jason repudiated the suggestion and insisted his version of events to be correct.

  ‘I saw them,’ he said. ‘They lifted her from her bed, carried her outside and Mary Kirkman cut off her head. They threw her body into the fire and continued with their party.’

  ‘Isn’t it likely that she had died in her bed? That what you saw was her funeral? Your grandfather told us that she was terminally ill.’

  ‘No, no. Mum spoke to me just before they came for her. She told me that she loved Aeron and me very much. That one day we would be together again.’