The Terror at Grisly Park (Quigg 5)

by Ellis, Tim

He nudged her by accident as he put his feet on the floor and switched the bedside light on.

  ‘Please, no more,’ she said, putting the pillow over her head and turning over so that her bare arse was sticking up in the air.

  No more! Ha! It should be him saying that. Once she’d started she couldn’t stop. He needed recovery time between emissions, but she wasn’t having any of it. He had a good mind to give her some of her own medicine.

  ‘You’ve lost two men?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘They radioed in saying they were following a blonde-haired girl into Slaughterhouse 8. That was over an hour ago. Now they’re not answering their radios.’

  ‘Slaughterhouse 8? I don’t think I know that one.’

  ‘It’s a disused attraction over on the west side of the park, which has been boarded up for over eight months.’

  ‘I’ll meet you in reception in half an hour. There’s a little something I have to take care of first.’

  ‘Right you are, Inspector.’

  The line went dead.

  ‘No more indeed. I think you need a lot more, Tolliver.’

  He nudged her legs apart with his knees.

  ‘Oh God! Not again.’

  ‘You’re the one who let the monster out of its cage,’ he said pushing into her as far as he could go. ‘Now you have to live with the consequences.’

  ***

  Friday, July 6

  In Room 13, Caesar ordered another two IDs to be placed where no one might stumble over them.

  ‘Two o’clock, Sir?’ Constable Doll asked.

  He checked his watch and nodded. It was midnight. ‘We have ninety minutes to do what we came to do and get out of this place in one piece. Let’s move.’

  He wasn’t interested in the graveyard. The tunnel would lead them to the last piece of evidence he needed to dispose of – the rogue scientist.

  His second-in-command – Sergeant Martyn Thompson – took point, followed by Constable Kunal Nagpal. He positioned himself third, and then came the two women Cat Bouette and Annie Doll. Constable Simeon Herbert brought up the rear. They each carried their carbines with a slim line torch strapped to the side of the barrel and a backpack of essentials.

  If it had been up to him he wouldn’t have had women in his team. He had nothing against women – they were great in bed, but Julius Caesar didn’t have women in his army. They formed part of the lixae – the camp followers – providing comfort and sustenance to the legionaries.

  ‘Speed up,’ he called to Thompson after they’d been hoofing it for about five minutes.

  They were following the railway line. The trouble was, they were having to run between the parallel tracks on the uneven wooden sleepers, and the faster they went the more risk there was of twisting an ankle.

  It wasn’t long before Thompson slowed down again and then came to a stop.

  Caesar moved forward. ‘Why have . . . ?’

  He looked at the three tunnels. It was obvious why Thompson had stopped. The railway line had been split into three. There was a switch lever at the side of the tunnel for changing tracks.

  What now? He should have anticipated this turn of events, but he hadn’t. PC Cheal had told him that no map existed of the mine. He imagined one tunnel leading to a rock face and the rogue scientist.

  ‘Keep moving along the central tunnel,’ he told Thompson. He could have spilt his team up, sent two into the left tunnel, two into the right, and he and one other could have carried on along the middle tunnel, but it was a plan that could end in disaster. What if there were more tunnels up ahead? Including himself, there were only six of them. It would be foolhardy to lose four of his team. No, the best course of action was to stick together. If they reached a dead end, they could always backtrack and try one of the other tunnels. It wouldn’t be ideal, but at least there’d still be six of them.

  ‘Sir?’ Constable Doll said.

  ‘What is it, Doll?’

  ‘Herbert has gone, Sir?’

  ‘Gone? What do you mean?’ He began to walk back to where Doll was standing.

  ‘He was behind me, bringing up the rear as you’d ordered him to, but he’s not there anymore.’

  ‘Where did he go?’

  Doll shrugged.

  ‘And you didn’t see or hear anything?’

  ‘Nothing, Sir.’

  ‘Tell everyone to stay here.’

  He walked back a couple of hundred yards in the darkness and found Herbert hanging from a wooden beam by his ankles. The bullet proof vest was lying on the ground, his torso had been ripped open like a ripe tomato and the internal organs were spilling out all over his face.

  ‘Christ almighty,’ he whispered, putting his hand to his mouth. He wasn’t normally squeamish, but Herbert was one of his men.

  He shone the light around the tunnel, but there was nothing to see. Who the fuck had done this? It wasn’t an animal, an animal wouldn’t have hung Herbert up. It could only be a man, but what type of man? He shook his head in disbelief and shivered.

  Herbert’s rifle was lying on the floor. He took it apart and removed the firing pin.

  It was getting colder. His nose was running and he could see his breath.

  He walked back to the others.

  ‘Did you find Herbert, Sir?’ Doll asked.

  ‘No. You’re bringing up the rear now, Doll. Stay within sight of Bouette, I don’t want to lose any more people.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Let’s move,’ he called to Sergeant Thompson. ‘We’ve lost enough time.’

  ***

  As it turned out, it didn’t take him long to satisfy his lust. Tolliver wasn’t really taking part. She moaned and shuddered a few times, but essentially it was a meal for one.

  As he sat on the edge of the bed it occurred to him that DI Caesar and his support team should have arrived some time ago. Where the hell was he? And why hadn’t Cheal contacted him?

  He took a shower, but skipped shaving. If he didn’t already have a job, he would have fitted in easily outside South Acton tube station.

  ‘Spare some change for a drink, Mister?’

  ‘Ten pounds? You haven’t got a twenty pound note, have you? I haven’t eaten since my fry-up at breakfast.’

  He put some clean clothes on that Magdalena had provided for him . . . He still hadn’t got to the bottom of that earring in his bed and the puncture mark in his arm.

  Mike Mulley was waiting for him in reception with another security officer – a short squat woman called Debbie King. He was put in mind of Little & Large when he saw the two of them together.

  ‘I’ve just got to pop into the command centre and then we’ll be on our way, Mulley. We’ve got buggies, haven’t we?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Great.’ He certainly didn’t want to walk.

  ‘Have you heard from DI Caesar?’ he asked Cheal when he climbed into the command centre.

  ‘He arrived over two hours ago, Sir.’

  ‘Didn’t I ask you . . . ?’

  ‘He ordered me to brief him . . .’

  ‘You?’

  ‘I told him that you should be the person briefing him, not me. He insisted, so I had no choice.’

  ‘That’s exactly what happened, Sir,’ Simcox said, verifying Cheal’s story.

  ‘He said he’d go and wake you up as soon as he left here,’ Cheal continued.

  ‘He didn’t.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, Sir.’

  ‘So, where is he now?’

  ‘Well, if he’s not with you . . .’ Her voice tailed off.

  What the hell was going on? He ran his fingers through his hair.

  ‘You look like a tramp, Sir,’ Constable Lay said.

  ‘Haven’t you got work to do, Lay?’

  ‘Loads, Sir.’

  ‘Well, get on with it then.’ He wasn’t in the mood for compliments. Why would Caesar arrive and not tell him? Where the hell was he now? H
e took out his phone. Why did he have messages? Why hadn’t he heard the phone? Crap! It was on silent. He had to get a new phone. This one kept doing its own thing in his pocket.

  There were three voice messages from Lucy. He checked his watch – twenty to one. Lucy could wait – he knew what she wanted. First, he needed to phone the Chief. He and Mrs Bellmarsh would still be up he was sure. Probably been out clubbing with his new friends at New Scotland Yard.

  The phone rang quite a few times. He was just about to give up when the Chief answered.

  ‘You’re now on my: “People I most want to kill list”, Quigg. Mrs Bellmarsh has also expressed a wish to throttle you as well.’

  ‘I’m flattered, Sir. I didn’t think you cared one way or the other what happened to me. Say hello to Mrs Bellmarsh for me.’

  ‘What do you want at this time of the morning?’

  ‘Has DI Caesar been given orders that I’m not aware of, Chief?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘He arrived over two hours ago but didn’t inform me he’d arrived. He ordered one of the command centre staff to brief him, and he’s gone off somewhere with his team.’

  ‘I’m awake now, Quigg. Look, as far as I know he’s there to provide you with armed support. You obviously couldn’t get what you needed from me, so you went above my head . . .’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sir. Now I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You went above my head to get a Tactical Support Team.’

  ‘I would never do that, Sir. You’ve been my guiding light, my mentor, my . . .’

  ‘All right, Quigg. Stop arse-licking. So, if you didn’t request a TST from the Assistant Commissioner, how did she know you needed one?’

  ‘I’m just a simple detective, Sir . . .’

  ‘Yes, I know that, Quigg. If what you say is true, there seems to be something going on that I’ve not been made aware of. So, let me get this right. DI Caesar arrived with his team over two hours ago, got one of the command staff to brief him and then went off on his own?’

  ‘That’s about it, Sir?’

  ‘And where were you?’

  ‘I thought I’d grab a couple of hours sleep because I knew it might be a long night and told the constable in charge of the command centre to contact me when Caesar arrived. She didn’t because Caesar said he was going up to my room to wake me up, but he never did.’

  ‘You’ve got a room in the hotel?’

  ‘Only a basic room, Sir.’

  ‘It had better be, Quigg. I don’t want you draining my budget on drinks from the mini bar, massages, Jacuzzis, all-day breakfasts, or special favours from the ladies on call.’

  ‘I’m living like a tramp, Sir.’

  ‘You’d better be. I want to see itemised receipts supported by detailed explanations of all expenditure on your claim forms.’

  ‘Can we get back to Caesar, Sir?’

  ‘You’ve caught me with my trousers down, Quigg.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to . . .’

  ‘Metaphorically speaking.’

  ‘Ah!’

  ‘I have no idea why DI Caesar didn’t report to you. That’s why he’s supposed to be there, to support you. He comes under your orders . . .Well, you know as well as I do what the TSTs do.’

  ‘Of course, Sir. That’s why I’m ringing you.’

  ‘At the moment I have no answers, but believe me I’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, if you find DI Caesar, get him to ring me.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  The call ended.

  So, the Chief didn’t know what was going on either. He didn’t much like the Chief . . . Well, he did like him, but not in a normal sort of way. He liked him because he could trust him, knew exactly where he stood with him, and could anticipate what response he was going to get to any request. So, if the Chief said he didn’t know what was going on – he didn’t know. Who the hell did know then? And if DI Caesar hadn’t come to provide tactical support for him, what was he here for?

  He was conscious of the fact that Mulley and King were waiting outside for him, but he needed to think. He stuck his head out of the door. ‘Go and get a coffee, or something,’ he said to the two security guards. ‘I have a situation here, which shouldn’t take me too long to resolve. I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.’

  ‘Right you are, Inspector,’ Mulley said.

  ‘Coffee please,’ he said to no one in particular.

  Simcox got up to make it.

  ‘So, you have no idea where DI Caesar has gone?’

  Cheal shook her head and looked at the others. ‘None at all, Sir.’

  ‘I don’t like this, Cheal. If Caesar hasn’t come here to do what I want him to do, why is he here?’

  He thought about the stolen DNA and the deleted computer records. He rang Perkins. ‘Get your arse over to the command centre.’

  Simcox brought his coffee.

  While he was waiting he thought he’d ring Lucy.

  ‘Where’ve you fucking been, Quigg?’

  ‘You know where I am. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Haven’t you listened to your messages?’

  ‘I thought I’d ring you, so you could tell me about all the builders you’ve had in person.’

  ‘Sometimes you’re a fucking moron, do you know that? Why didn’t you answer your phone?’

  ‘I must have put it on silent by mistake.’

  ‘We’ve been fighting for our lives here.’

  He gave a nervous laugh. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you know a Sergeant Jones?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘Well, the bastard thought he’d come and kill us all to pay you back for getting him the sack.’

  ‘Oh God. Are you all right?’

  ‘Everyone’s fine except Duffy. Jones threw a knife at me and it hit Duffy in the stomach . . .’

  ‘Jesus! Is she . . . ?’

  Lucy interrupted him. ‘I’m at the hospital now. They’ve taken her to theatre.’

  ‘What about the baby?’

  ‘Nobody has told me anything yet. They’ve been in the operating theatre for over an hour now. We’ll just have to wait and see.’

  Tears filled his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I should have been there. The bastard. What happened to Jones?’

  ‘I fucking killed him.’

  ‘It’ll be self-defence. We’ll sort . . .’

  ‘You don’t think I’ve told anyone, do you? He’s in the tunnel. You can dispose of the bastard when you come home.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘And when do you think that might fucking be, Quigg?’

  ‘The case seems to be coming to a head now. I’ll definitely be home tomorrow . . .’

  ‘You mean today?’

  ‘Yes, today – Friday.’

  ‘You’d better be, or I might kill you as well.’

  ‘I’ll be home.’

  ‘And if you were wondering, I’ve broken my metacrumples, or something. I thumped Jones in the face after he tried to rape me. My hand is in plaster.’

  ‘I’ll make it up to all of you.’

  ‘Damn right you will.’

  ‘Will you phone me when there’s any news of Duffy and the baby?’

  ‘Will you answer your fucking phone, if I do?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’d better.’

  ‘Thanks . . .’

  The call had ended.

  Jones! Who would have thought he’d be that crazy. Thank God for Lucy. He felt really guilty, but he wasn’t to know. There was no point in beating himself up about something he had no control over. No one could have anticipated that Jones would go to such lengths to get revenge.

  ‘Are you okay, Sir?’ Cheal asked.

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ He just hoped Duffy and the baby were okay.

  Perkins arrived looking decidedly sleepy and dishevelled.

  He made sure his phone wasn’t on silent anymore and slipped it into his pock
et. ‘You weren’t sleeping, were you, Perkins?’

  ‘I thought I’d grab a couple of hours while you were in the prone position yourself.’

  ‘Me? You know I never sleep. So, tell me everything you know about this DNA?’

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘Everything.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  They kept moving along the central tunnel, but it wasn’t long before it split into three again.

  ‘Stay on this track, Sergeant Thompson.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  After five minutes more Thompson stopped.

  ‘What is it this time?’ Caesar said.

  ‘There’s been a cave-in, Sir.’

  ‘Can we get through?’

  ‘Unlikely.’

  ‘Back-up, Doll.’

  There was no response.

  ‘Doll?’

  Silence.

  ‘Bouette, are you still with us?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Where’s Doll?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sir.’

  He moved up beside her. ‘And you heard nothing?’

  ‘No . . .’

  Just then, they heard gunshots coming from where they’d been.

  ‘Down,’ Caesar shouted, as he heard bullets ricocheting off the walls.

  Behind them, Thompson grunted.

  Caesar sighed. This was not going as he’d planned it. ‘Are you all right, Thompson?’

  ‘Hit in the arm, Sir.’

  ‘Can you continue?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Nagpal, see to Thompson’s arm.’

  Nagpal moved to where Thompson was squatting with his back against the tunnel wall and strapped up his arm.

  ‘Done, Sir.’

  ‘Okay, let’s retrace our steps. You’re on point, Nagpal.’

  Nagpal squeezed past him and Bouette to reach the front.

  ‘Move off,’ Caesar said.

  Bouette was second. He was third, and Thompson brought up the rear.

  ‘That was a bit stupid, Sergeant Thompson.’

  ‘I was sitting down, but it hit me anyway. I’d call it unlucky rather than stupid, Sir.’

  ‘You’re not going to slow us down, are you?’

  ‘Absolutely not, Sir.’