Deathly Affair

by Leigh Russell

  Turning, Geraldine banged on the door.

  ‘Open up!’ she shouted. ‘This is the police! Open this door! Kelly! Kelly!’

  The door flew open and she saw Charlie, red-faced with fury.

  ‘Step outside –’ she began.

  He raised his hand and she saw he was holding a gun.

  56

  ‘Get in here, now!’ Charlie said. ‘Move!’

  He was holding the gun close to his chest, the dark circle of the barrel pointing straight at her. The weapon jerked in his hand, ushering her inside. Behind him Geraldine could see Kelly lying on her front at the far end of the narrow hall. She was not moving, and Geraldine could not see whether she was badly hurt. There had been no sound of a shot being fired, but the thought that Kelly might be in need of urgent medical attention decided Geraldine. In any case, there was no arguing with a man holding a gun. She stepped over the threshold and called Kelly’s name but there was no response. Behind her she heard the front door close.

  The end of the gun pressed against her back, between her shoulder blades.

  ‘Charlie, I think your wife’s unconscious,’ she said, doing her best to focus on Kelly and ignore the gun which jabbed her viciously in the back as she spoke. ‘We need to check whether she’s still breathing.’

  ‘Never mind that,’ Charlie replied. ‘Get in there.’

  He grabbed her arm and steered her towards the front room.

  At that moment someone banged so loudly on the front door, the door frame shook.

  The flap of the letter box was pushed open. ‘Open up! Police!’ a voice yelled through it. ‘Open this door or we’ll break it down!’

  ‘Shut up,’ Charlie growled. ‘I can’t think with that racket going on. It’s doing my head in.’ He poked her in the back with the gun. ‘They need to stop that din.’

  She wondered whether the gun was loaded. Charlie probably did not even know how to fire it. But she was not taking any chances.

  ‘They don’t know you’ve got a gun,’ she said. ‘So they’re not going to take your threats seriously. Any minute now, they’re going to smash all your doors and windows in, and if enough of them rush into the house at once, you’ll be pinned to the floor because you won’t be able to shoot them fast enough to stop them overpowering you. But by the time that happens, I’ll have a bullet in my back, won’t I?’

  He grunted.

  ‘I’ll be dead and you’ll be locked up for life for killing a police officer.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Just that this is going to end badly for both of us, because there’s a small army of policemen out there who don’t know you’re armed.’

  ‘If you don’t shut up, you’ll be dead, anyway.’

  Geraldine took a deep breath, aware that it could be her last. ‘Once they know you’re armed they’ll have to negotiate with you, and I’ll get out of this alive, and you’ll get a car, and whatever else you need. Of course, if you shoot me first, you won’t have anything left to bargain with.’

  Her captor seemed to have forgotten about Kelly, so Geraldine did not mention her. Charlie was no fool and he must have realised a police officer was a more useful hostage than a woman who might already be dead. Presumably that was why he had invited her into the house in the first place. Behind her she could hear him breathing heavily as though he was struggling with a heavy load.

  ‘This is your final warning!’ a voice reached them through the front door. ‘The house is surrounded and we’re coming in.’

  At the same time they heard a loud banging coming from the back of the kitchen, and more voices calling to Charlie to open up.

  ‘I told you to get in there,’ he cried out, grabbing hold of her arm again and propelling her into the front room.

  He gave her a final shove that almost caused her to lose her balance. She stumbled forwards into the room and grabbed on to the back of a chair to stop herself from falling. Gasping, she swivelled round to look at him. He was standing in the doorway, one arm hanging loose, the other pointing the gun at her head. Seeing the manic glare in his eyes, she nearly panicked; it took all her willpower to control a surge of terror that swept through her as she realised she was seconds away from almost certain death.

  ‘Tell them they’ve got to stop that,’ Charlie cried out in fury, as the thumping at the door resumed. ‘They’ve got to give me time to think. I need time.’

  ‘Shall I call them and tell them you’re armed?’

  ‘Go on then. And no tricks,’ he added, his gun twitching in his grasp as she reached for her phone.

  Geraldine spoke as calmly as she could. ‘I’m getting my phone so I can call and say you have a gun pointed at my head so they have to do whatever you want.’

  He nodded. ‘Go on then, do it. Now! Now! Before they kick the bloody door in!’

  ‘I’m in the house and he’s got a gun,’ she gabbled into her phone. ‘One other hostage is injured.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Charlie shouted. ‘Drop the phone. Drop the phone!’

  Geraldine let her phone fall to the floor and kicked it towards him. For a few seconds they heard a voice calling from the phone, and then there was silence. Hours seemed to pass while they stood there, facing one another across the room, waiting for something to happen.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Charlie blurted out at last. ‘What are they doing out there?’

  Geraldine pictured the silent activity taking place in the street outside. Nearby houses would be evacuated, and the area cleared and cordoned off. Paramedics might already be standing by, ready to step forward as soon as it was safe to do so. A trained negotiator would be on his way, with an armed response team moving into place, surrounding the house. A helicopter would arrive shortly in case Charlie tried to make a run for it. It was hard to believe that such a large team were arriving outside, when inside the house they could hear no sound from the street.

  ‘What’s happening? Why is it so quiet out there?’ Charlie shouted suddenly.

  Beneath his short black hair he looked very pale. Although it was chilly in the house, beads of sweat trickled down his high forehead, while his narrow, dark eyes glared anxiously at Geraldine, and his fingers holding the gun seemed to twitch nervously. Half expecting him to pull the trigger, she stood poised to duck, even though it would be futile. No one could react fast enough to avoid a bullet. Behind her, she heard a faint moan.

  ‘I think Kelly’s recovered consciousness,’ she said. ‘We ought to see if she’s all right.’

  ‘Don’t move. I told you, I need to think.’

  Out in the hall, they heard Kelly groan.

  ‘She needs medical assistance,’ Geraldine said. ‘She could be dying.’

  ‘You need to shut up. What are they doing out there?’

  Geraldine struggled to maintain her composure, while Charlie grew as jittery as a fish caught on a line.

  If Geraldine could just kick the gun out of her opponent’s grasp, she was confident she would be able to subdue him, in a one-against-one struggle. But even with all her training, she was no match for an armed man. And should Kelly recover sufficiently to do anything at all, there was no way of knowing whether she would want to help Geraldine or Charlie. Against two opponents and a gun, Geraldine was helpless.

  As she was considering her limited options, a voice hailed them from outside. The police had responded to the situation quickly.

  ‘We have the house surrounded, Charlie,’ a negotiator called out in a calm unhurried tone. ‘Come out with your hands in the air.’

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ Charlie replied.

  No one but Geraldine could hear him.

  ‘I think Kelly might be dying,’ she urged him. ‘If she doesn’t get help soon, you’ll go down for murder. At the moment you haven’t hurt anyone. Let them take her away to safety. You’ll still
have me as a bargaining chip. Then you can tell them everything you want in exchange for my safe return.’

  ‘Not bloody likely,’ he repeated. ‘I’m not a complete idiot. They’re not getting in here. Now shut up, will you, and let me think what to do. I can handle this, I just need to think.’

  57

  At last Charlie seemed to make up his mind. ‘Tell them I want a car,’ he said, ‘and no one’s to follow me. If I see anyone on my tail...’ he jerked the gun meaningfully. ‘And to make sure there’s no tricks, you’re coming with me.’

  Geraldine nodded to show she understood. ‘I’ll need my phone if I’m going to talk to them.’

  She pointed at her phone, lying on the floor between them.

  ‘Put your hands on your head and sit down,’ he said. ‘On the floor. Over there.’

  He was waving the gun at her wildly now, so she did as she was told. Once she was on the floor, leaning against the far wall, he stepped forward to bend down and pick up the phone. Geraldine suppressed a crazy impulse to fling herself at him and knock him off his feet. If he had not been clutching a gun, she would have done it without any hesitation. As it was, she sat perfectly still, watching him, praying the gun would slip from his grasp and skitter across the floor in her direction. It did not.

  ‘Here,’ he said, sliding the phone across the floor before straightening up. ‘Call them. Tell them I want a car. A fast car.’ He paused. ‘A police car. No, no, a Ferrari. Make it a Ferrari.’

  ‘A Ferrari? Are you sure?’

  ‘Call them! Tell them I’ll shoot you in the head if they don’t give me what I want.’

  Although she felt strangely calm, Geraldine could see her fingers shaking as she made the call.

  ‘This is DS Steel,’ she said, and broke off, unable to speak.

  ‘We’re listening,’ the voice called from out in the street. ‘We can hear you. Are you all right in there?’

  ‘Give me the phone!’ Charlie shouted. ‘Give it to me! Throw it over here.’

  Geraldine held out the phone and he lunged forward to grab it, still pointing the gun at her. He was not quite close enough for her to feel confident that she could safely reach out and seize his arm, twisting it so the gun was no longer pointing directly at her. Regretfully, she decided to be patient instead of taking such an unnecessary risk. She might be angry and frightened, but she was not suicidal.

  ‘I want a car! A Ferrari!’ Charlie bellowed into the phone. ‘Give me what I want or the sergeant gets a bullet in her brain!’

  He turned to Geraldine whose eyes had not shifted from the barrel of the gun. It stared back at her like a malevolent eye.

  ‘Now, get up, slowly. You’re coming with me.’

  She understood that she was to be used as a human shield, but at least she was still alive. Suddenly each moment felt precious. Her gaze wandered around the untidy little room where every object now assumed a significance she had not noticed earlier. She felt as though a grey filter had been lifted from her eyes. An irregular stain on the carpet seemed to take on a new significance. Someone had spilt their tea there, or their beer, and left it to soak into the carpet. Perhaps they had tried, without success, to dilute it with water and mop it up. It seemed inexpressibly sad that she would never learn the truth about its history. There was so much she would never discover if Charlie shot her dead. She avoided thinking about people she knew. She did not want to spend her last moments wracked with guilt over her flawed relationships with her sisters, or filled with regret over what might have happened with Ian Peterson, if only he had never fallen in love with his wife years before Geraldine had first met him.

  She turned to gaze at the net curtain over the window. Out of sight, just a short distance away, her colleagues were playing a waiting game, hoping for a positive outcome from this tense situation. Through the curtain she could make out the faint outline of a tree. If she was going to die here in this stuffy room, she would like her last view of the world to be a tree, not the face of her killer. But the thought of the world outside gave her hope. Her colleagues were working to rescue her and restore her to her career, her friends and family. She had a life. Somewhere out in the street, not far away, Ian Peterson was waiting to see her walk out through the front door. She could almost hear the cheers of the watching team as she stepped out of the house, unharmed. She was not ready to die. Not yet.

  Raising her eyes she saw Charlie, his top lip and forehead glistening with sweat, his eyes flickering nervously at her, his lips stretched in a triumphant grin. And over his shoulder she saw Kelly, clinging on to the door for support, blinking and swaying on quivering legs.

  ‘Kelly?’ Geraldine said.

  ‘Forget about her,’ Charlie replied, oblivious that Kelly had just clambered to her feet behind him. ‘You and me, we’re leaving here together.’

  Before he finished speaking, Kelly hurled herself forward with a shriek of rage.

  ‘You’re not leaving me for that bitch!’ she screeched, completely misunderstanding the situation.

  Startled, Charlie looked round. As he turned his head, Geraldine dived at him, knocking the gun out of his hand. It went skating across the floor and landed by Kelly. At once, Geraldine had Charlie’s arm twisted up behind his back.

  ‘Stop it! You’re breaking my arm! Kelly, give me the gun. Give it to me, you stupid cow!’

  Kelly stood, trembling, clutching the gun which could go off at any moment. Light glinted off the metal shaking in her grasp.

  ‘Drop the gun, Kelly!’ Geraldine called out, trying to keep her voice steady and conceal her panic. ‘Drop the gun before you kill someone!’

  As Kelly stared around wildly, Geraldine struggled to work out how she could control the situation.

  She lowered her voice and tried to sound encouraging. ‘Drop the gun, Kelly. You’re going to hurt someone if you’re not careful.’

  The retort as the gun went off was deafening.

  58

  Through the painful ringing in her ears, Geraldine was only hazily aware of another crashing sound. She barely had time to register that she had not been injured by the gunshot when two armed police officers in riot gear burst into the room.

  ‘Drop your weapons!’ the first one shouted. ‘Hands above your heads!’

  For a second no one moved. Then Kelly threw the gun down and fell to her knees, holding her arms up and whimpering in terror. Geraldine released her grip on Charlie, put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him to the floor where he lay, whingeing that she had broken his arm.

  ‘You’re going to regret this,’ he cried out. ‘This is police brutality. You’ll be in trouble –’

  ‘At least I’m not threatening to put a bullet through your brain if you don’t shut up,’ she interrupted him.

  ‘Are you all right, Sergeant?’ one of the armed police officers asked her.

  Geraldine nodded uncertainly. ‘I need to get out of here,’ she replied, for the first time aware of the sour stench of sweat and gunpowder. ‘And that woman needs to get to a hospital.’

  Holding on to the wall for support, Geraldine made her way to the front door. She stood for a moment, enjoying a blast of cold fresh air. She had not realised how stifling it had been inside the house. A little revived, she stepped outside and a familiar figure ran forward.

  ‘Ian,’ she muttered, as his arms wrapped round her.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get you to hospital.’

  ‘I don’t need a hospital,’ she replied.

  She stood perfectly still for a moment, trying to memorise the sensation of his embrace, and he seemed in no hurry to release her. There was a faint smell of perspiration that his aftershave failed to mask.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked in a curiously husky voice, holding her head tightly against his chest.

  His hand felt warm on the side of
her head, and against her other ear she could hear his heart thumping.

  ‘I’m not hurt. What I need right now is a shower and a stiff drink,’ she replied, as he loosened his hold on her.

  He gazed at her for a moment. ‘I was afraid I’d never see you again,’ he said softly.

  She smiled. ‘I don’t think you’re going to get rid of me that easily.’

  ‘I hope not.’

  As soon as she had showered and changed, Geraldine returned to the police station and went straight to Eileen’s office.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you back here until next week,’ Eileen said. She spoke severely, but she was smiling. ‘Although knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t come straight here from the house where you were being held hostage at gunpoint.’ She shook her head. ‘Seriously, Geraldine, it’s admirable the way you take everything in your stride, but don’t you need to take a few days off, at least? Go and visit your sister in Kent, and have a break. You’ve been through quite an ordeal and you might not be as tough as you think you are.’

  ‘OK, keep me behind a desk for a few days if it makes you feel better,’ Geraldine replied. ‘But I can assure you I’m fine.’ She hoped her expression did not betray that she was still feeling shocked by her experience. ‘The thing is, I had to come in to tell you what I’ve learned.’

  Eileen nodded. ‘Go on,’ she said.

  ‘Charlie killed the first two rough sleepers.’

  ‘Did he tell you that?’

  ‘No, not in so many words, but I know it was him.’

  ‘Be careful, Geraldine. After Charlie held you up at gunpoint, it’s understandable you’re going to feel a little disorientated, not to mention keen to see him convicted – who wouldn’t be after what he put you through? But without clear evidence or a credible confession, there’s nothing further to be said.’