Riot

by Heather Atkinson

  She swallowed down the bile attempting to claw its way out of her, got to her feet and turned her back on Dwyer. Taking out her phone she made the call.

  “It’s time,” was all she said before hanging up.

  Sensing someone behind her, she whipped back round, convinced Dwyer had somehow got up and was standing behind her but he still lay where he’d fallen.

  Rachel stood over him, trying not to look at the hole in his head and attempted to ascertain whether he was breathing. The prospect of putting her hand to his neck or wrist to check his pulse appalled her. She reasoned he couldn’t have survived with the back of his head hanging open but she wouldn’t put it past the bastard. He didn’t seem to be breathing. Not that it mattered. Soon there would be someone here who could determine that for certain.

  Unwilling to look at him anymore, she retreated into the kitchen, waiting for the knock at the back door.

  For so long Ryan had protected her from taking a life, often at his own personal cost but she’d always known the day would come when she would have to do it. She’d never thought it would be a police officer though. She had crossed a line her family had always striven to avoid and as yet she had no idea what the fallout would be. But it had been the only way to stop Dwyer, just as it had with Benton and Jarvis.

  The knock at the door - even though she was expecting it - made her tense. Peering through the spy hole she was relieved to see it was the person she’d hired to help.

  The Man In Black walked in, as always dressed in a black pinstripe suit over which he wore a long black coat with tails. On his head was a tall black hat. However it was his face that was the most striking thing about him - long and sallow and as lifeless as one of his clients. His hair was jet black, matching his thick black-framed glasses.

  “Mrs Law,” he said with a small bow. “I’m sorry to meet again under such sad circumstances. Is the deceased ready?”

  Rachel nodded and opened the door wider.

  The Man In Black entered, waiting for her to close the door behind him before following her through to the lounge with all the solemnity as if she’d lost someone dear to her.

  The Man In Black gave the deceased a respectful bow before getting out his tape to measure the body.

  His ways might seem odd to some but it wasn’t the first time Rachel had seen The Man In Black at work. He’d helped her family out on several occasions and always provided an excellent service.

  After noting down the measurements in a small notebook, The Man In Black got to his feet. As he hadn’t bothered to check Dwyer’s pulse she assumed he was dead and gone.

  “You said you wanted the full service Mrs Law?” he said, respectful as always.

  “Yes please. He needs to disappear in every single way.”

  He nodded once. “It shall be done. Once again, allow me to say how sorry I am for your loss. I’ll take care of everything. Please don’t dwell on it during this difficult time.”

  The Man In Black always spoke as though the deceased were a loved one, even if they were a deadly enemy. She didn’t object, it was just his way and it was worth it for the service he provided. “Thank you. The money will be in your account by the end of the day.”

  “And I shall get to work immediately. In a few hours it will be as though he never existed.”

  Rachel stifled a shudder. It was so ridiculously easy to snuff out life. “I’ll get out of your way and let you work.”

  He bowed and followed her to the back door, locking it behind her.

  Rachel exited the immaculate garden wondering if soon Dwyer’s precious flowers would be choked by weeds.

  Exhausted, she returned to the hire car parked three streets away and gratefully sank into the driver’s seat.

  The enormity of what she’d done hadn’t quite hit her yet but as she gazed at the road all she could see was Dwyer’s dead body. She knew there would be no one to mourn him or miss him, which made her feel worse.

  Rachel started the engine and set off. No time to think about all that now. She had to get back to the airfield and then Devon before anyone realised she’d been gone.

  CHAPTER 50

  “Why are we at the bus station?” said an incredulous Craig.

  “We need to go to Devon,” replied Archie.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to finish what my dad started.”

  “What did he start?”

  “He’s dead because of my Aunty Rachel and she betrayed the family.”

  “You mean Rachel Law?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow, I’ve seen her in the newspapers. She lives in Devon?”

  “Yes,” said Archie, rapidly losing patience with his friend. “Which is why we need to go down there. She’s the real reason why I nicked the gun. I wanted to practice with it before using it on her.”

  “Oh right, I get it now. So, which bus do we take?”

  “There’s a coach over there that says Exeter. That’s near where she lives.”

  “Let’s get on that then. You got any cash?”

  “No. I thought we could use yours.”

  “I don’t have any on me.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. You always have some from the stuff you nick and sell.”

  Craig didn’t like the look in his eye so he dipped into his pocket. “Alright, I’ve got twenty quid. Will that be enough?”

  “For one ticket probably,” said Archie, snatching it out of his hand before punching him in the face.

  Craig fell to the ground, out cold, Archie ignoring the passers-by gawping at him. He approached the bus but was disappointed to see the driver hadn’t arrived yet so he joined the queue of people waiting to get on.

  Two women rushed to attend to Craig, gently shaking him awake. He sat up with a groan, a hand pressed to his aching face. “The bastard,” he spat. He glowered at Archie and pointed at him. “Oy everyone,” he yelled, drawing the attention of everyone in the bus station. “That’s Archie Cutter. The police are looking for him. He’s got a gun and he’s already shot three people.”

  The entire bus station came to a standstill, everyone frozen in shock before one woman unleashed a scream. Her panic rapidly spread and soon everyone was running away from Archie.

  “Traitor,” yelled Archie, drawing the gun.

  Craig scrambled to his feet and sped off, the bullet Archie fired at him missing and ploughing into an empty bus shelter, its glass wall exploding.

  Archie watched his friend vanish. He was tempted to run after him but he didn’t want to miss the bus so he remained where he was. Fortunately the people in front of him in the queue had all gone. Good, he’d be first on.

  The sound of sirens made Archie nervous but he didn’t worry. They were often heard in the city centre. When they got closer he began to wonder whether he should move on. The bus driver still hadn’t turned up anyway.

  Just as he’d made up his mind to leave, a police car drove into the station. Two officers leapt out and crouched behind their open doors, guns in their hands.

  “Archie Cutter,” yelled one of them.

  “My names Maguire not Cutter,” he yelled back at them.

  “Put the gun down Archie and put your hands on your head.”

  “No,” he retorted.

  “Put the gun down and everything will be okay.”

  “It’s my gun. No one’s taking it from me,” he yelled, drawing it.

  “Now calm down Archie,” called the officer.

  “Piss off pig.”

  More police cars as well as a van pulled up and a dozen police officers jumped out of the vehicles. Some looked a bit tougher than ordinary police, dressed in black body armour. Bloody hell, they had sub-machine guns.

  “Awesome,” murmured Archie, staring at them in wonder.

  The police set up a cordon around the bus station, ushering all bystanders far away from the line of fire. He spotted a sheepish Craig in handcuffs being led to one of the police cars. Archie glared at him as he
was shoved inside and the door was slammed shut.

  A man dressed in an ordinary suit with body armour strapped to his chest put a microphone to his mouth. “Archie, it’s time to stop this. You’ve already hurt three people. Don’t hurt any more.”

  “I didn’t hurt them. They got in my way. Don’t you get in my way too,” he said before firing into the ground just a few feet from where the man stood, making him scurry behind one of the police cars.

  Archie chuckled. This was fun.

  Beth lay in a hospital bed cradling her new son but what should have been a joyous occasion was overwhelmed with sadness. The curtains had been pulled around her bed so she could let her tears freely fall. Archie was well and truly lost. The memory of him shooting a police officer kept replaying in her mind. It had already made her vomit twice and she had nothing left in her stomach.

  The curtain opened and she smiled with relief. “Jules, Ryan.”

  Without a word Jules hugged her. Beth clung onto her with her free arm, sobbing into her shoulder.

  “We’re so sorry about Archie,” she said.

  “I can’t believe it. He shot a police officer in front of me, in my own home. I don’t know how he is, they won’t tell me anything. God I hope he didn’t kill him.”

  “We’ll find out for you and don’t worry, coppers are like cockroaches. He’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know where Archie is. Have you heard anything?”

  “We checked with our contacts. They’re still searching for him. The good news is the security guard he shot is going to pull through.”

  “Thank God. That’s something at least. This is Alex’s fault, he messed up my little boy so badly. He’s built a shrine to the evil sod in his bedroom. I don’t know why, after all these years…”

  “Why don’t I hold this gorgeous little chap,” said Jules, taking Ben from her arms.

  “Thanks,” replied Beth, grabbing a tissue from the box on the bedside cabinet and drying her eyes.

  “I’m your Aunty Jules,” she cooed at him. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me. You’re just gorgeous.”

  “He’s just like Riley,” smiled Ryan.

  “He is,” replied Beth, lower lip wobbling. “I wish he was here. I called the hospital but he’s still asleep. He doesn’t even know he has a son yet.”

  “We’re going to visit him next.”

  “I know I shouldn’t ask but is there anything you can do about Archie?”

  “Our contacts will let us know the second they hear anything.”

  “He shot a police officer so they’ll shoot him when they find him.”

  “No they won’t, he’s only fifteen.”

  “But these things happen, I’ve seen them on the news.”

  “They won’t shoot him,” said Ryan. “He is still a child.”

  “Even if they find him and don’t shoot him he’ll never come home again. God forgive me for saying it but after what he did to Riley I don’t want him in my house ever again. Riley has been nothing but good to him but he wanted him dead.” Tears spilled down her face. “I want to hate him but I can’t. He’s still my son.”

  “Riley wouldn’t want you to hate Archie.”

  “This is my fault, I should have got him more help.”

  “You took him to loads of counsellors and psychiatrists,” said Jules. “You did all you could. Archie is old enough now to know right from wrong. This is on him, not you.”

  “I feel I should be doing something, not just lying here.”

  “You’ve just given birth, you need to rest. Dammit, I forgot to turn this off,” she said when her phone started to ring.

  Ryan took Ben from her and she disappeared off the ward. Beth watched her go but said nothing.

  “Are you alright with Ben while I nip to the loo?” she said. “I’m bursting.”

  “We’ll be just fine,” he smiled, sinking into the chair by her bedside. “Do you need a nurse?”

  “Nah, I’ll be fine. After five babies it gets easier.”

  Beth pulled on her dressing gown and slippers and ambled off the ward. She spotted Jules standing just outside the ward, her back to her. Quietly Beth opened the door to listen.

  “The bus station?” said Jules into the handset. “Which one genius? There’s loads of the sods. Manchester Coach Station? What’s Archie doing there?”

  Beth had heard enough. She retreated back onto the ward. Looking around, she saw the nurses were at their station or occupied with patients. Peering through the glass in the door she saw Jules was still on the phone with her back to her, so she slipped out of the door and took the exit immediately to her right, which led to the stairs.

  Jules returned to the ward after concluding her phone calls to find Ryan alone, smiling soppily down at Ben.

  “Where’s Beth?” she said.

  “Gone to the bathroom.”

  “That’s not going to be a pleasant experience for a while. That was one of our contacts on the phone. Archie’s causing chaos in Manchester Coach Station. He shot up a bus shelter.”

  “Did he hurt anyone?”

  “No thank God. They’ve got the place cordoned off and they’re attempting to talk him down. They don’t want to shoot a fifteen year old boy. Christ, this is going to devastate Beth.”

  The curtain was whipped aside to reveal Beth’s mum.

  “Riley,” she beamed at Ryan. “It’s so good to see you back on your feet.” She noted his grey eyes and her smile fell. “Oh, it’s you Ryan.” She looked glumly at Jules. “And you.”

  They both ignored her tone, they couldn’t blame her for disliking their family after what Beth had suffered at their hands.

  “Your new grandson’s a little cracker Carol,” said Jules.

  This made her smile. “He certainly is.” When she held her arms out for him, Ryan gently handed him over. “Hello Ben,” she cooed at him. “Where’s Beth?”

  “Nipped to the loo,” replied Jules.

  “Actually,” said Ryan. “She’s been gone a while.”

  “What if she’s fallen over and become unwell?” said Carol.

  “I’ll check on her,” said Jules.

  She checked both the patient’s and visitor’s toilets but couldn’t find her friend. She had a word with the nurses, who hadn’t seen her before hurrying back. “She’s not there.”

  “Where could she have gone?” said Carol. “She’s just given birth, she should be resting.”

  “She said she needed the bathroom right after you left to answer your phone,” Ryan told his sister meaningfully.

  “Oh hell,” said Jules.

  “Wait, where are you going?” said Carol.

  “Nothing to worry about,” replied Jules, forcing a smile. “I’ve just remembered an urgent…appointment.”

  Before Carol could question them further they raced off the ward.

  Miller and Leonidas stood before Falmouth’s desk.

  “Well?” said the ACC.

  “I’m sad to report Sir that we’ve uncovered evidence indicating that DCI Dwyer has falsified evidence in at least three cases.”

  “Three?” He hesitated, sniffing the air.

  “Something wrong Sir?”

  “I can smell blackberries.”

  “Oh,” said Leonidas. “That’ll be my vape Sir. I’m trying out new flavours.”

  “Right,” he said, giving the inspector a funny look.

  Miller looked to Leonidas, amused while he winked back at her, eyes twinkling.

  “Anyway,” continued Falmouth. “Back to the topic in hand. I wasn’t expecting so many cases already.”

  “That’s just the beginning Sir,” said Miller. “We suspect there are more but it will take time to work through them. The most damning is the Portendorfer case.”

  “The what?”

  “Michael Portendorfer Sir. He was convicted on DNA evidence found on the body of his wife, who was strangled. I had the evidence retested and it shows the DNA belonged to his best friend David Ja
mes.”

  “What? Well why not prosecute James then?”

  “He had half a dozen people willing to alibi him and he was having an affair with the victim, which he could have used to explain the presence of DNA on her body, even though it was only found on her wrists and neck. Dwyer was promoted to DI just after this conviction. I think he wanted to make sure he got a conviction to ensure his promotion.”

  Falmouth tutted. “Appalling. And the other two cases?”

  It was Leonidas who spoke. “Another murder and a rape. The DNA had been falsified on those two cases too. Both men are still in prison. Sadly Mr Portendorfer was killed in the riot.”

  “Sweet lord,” he exclaimed. “This just gets worse. And can this falsifying of evidence lead back to Dwyer?”

  “He signed off on all three and we have a lab worker willing to give evidence against him, the same lab worker who ran the DNA on Estelle Law’s body…”

  “For which Jez Law is currently in prison.”

  Leonidas nodded.

  “Alright, I’ll call Counter Corruption. DS Miller, bring him in.”

  The pleasure that raced through her body was so intense it was almost orgasmic. “Yes Sir.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Beth flung open the door of the taxi she’d caught outside the hospital, the driver of which hadn’t been phased by a woman in a dressing gown and slippers getting into his cab. It wasn’t the first time he’d picked up a fare from the hospital similarly dressed. He was however shocked to find himself pulling up next to a police siege.

  “Hey, what about my cash?” he called as Beth staggered out of the car.

  “Archie,” she cried, rushing towards her son, who was facing off against a group of armed police, waving a gun in the air.

  “No, you can’t go near,” said a police officer, standing before her.

  “Get out of my way. I’m his mum.”

  When she tried to run past him he gently wrapped his arms around her and held her.

  “Don’t hurt him, please,” she screamed, struggling against the officer.

  “Mum?” said Archie with wonder.

  “Put the gun down for God’s sake,” she cried. “If you don’t they’ll shoot you.”