by Adam Carter
He beamed. “Thank you.”
“So that’s it,” Miss Robinson said. “You’ve heard all our testimonies and you’re still no closer to finding Gary. I take it we can all go now and you’ll contact us again if you need us.”
“No,” I said. “The problem is, Gary Kensing spoke to all of you, but he didn’t actually tell any of you anything. None of you knows anything at all about him, other than what I’ve just told you.”
“Well, no,” Holding said.
“And by bringing you all together I’ve just given you more information on him than any of you even wanted to know. You would have gone on with your lives, not even giving the man a second thought. You certainly wouldn’t have known were Gary to simply disappear.”
“Well, no,” Holding repeated. “Considering none of us even knew him.”
I sighed. “Then I should apologise. I thought you were all witnesses, that you had vital information which could have led me to him; or information which could have led the police to me. But you weren’t witnesses. You were just casual train acquaintances. By bringing you together I have, ironically, made you all witnesses.”
“Uh,” Ashcroft asked, “what do you mean led the police to you? You are the police.”
“If I was the police,” I said tiredly, “I wouldn’t legally have been allowed to interview you without your parent or guardian present.”
I pulled the gun before any of them could react. My choice of room was good, since with the only window blocked no one outside could have seen the movement. My four captives gasped like something out of a comedy film. They were all so obsessed with their own lives they had not even imagined the move could come.
“You’re Gary’s uncle,” Robinson said.
“That’s right,” I told her. “As Gary mentioned, I’ve been inside for a stretch. Jewellery heist, you see. When I got out I wanted Gary to help his uncle on his next job. The lad didn’t want to come with me, and I couldn’t persuade him.” I could feel my anger burning. “Then, after I’d done the job alone, he stole all the money and jewels from me. He wouldn’t help me, but he’d certainly steal from me.”
I realised I could not allow my anger to cloud my judgement, lest one of them attempt a break for the door.
“You can’t just shoot us all,” Holding said, distraught. “I have to get to work.”
“And I have to get back to my parents,” Ashcroft said.
“And I have people’s lives to ruin,” the ticket inspector said.
I waited for the final whinging voice and when it did not come trained my gun upon Miss Robinson. “Nothing you want to get back to?” I asked airily.
“Paperwork,” she said. “Shedloads of it. It comes with arrests.”
“Arrests?”
“Brian Kensing, I’m arresting you for armed robbery, kidnapping and attempted murder.”
I blinked. “You’re not an undercover cop, don’t be ridiculous.”
It was just as I spoke those words that the door burst in and an army of screaming, shouting police officers startled me into hesitating too long. They had my gun in moments, and before I even realised what was going on I was in handcuffs.
“What, no,” I said, my brain still refusing to believe any of it. “No.”
Robinson smiled as she approached. “Gary came to us to say you were going to commit armed robbery. Unfortunately, you were quicker than we anticipated and since we didn’t know which jewellers you were going to hit we didn’t manage to protect them in time. But Gary asked to help and the next thing we knew he’d shown up at the station with a bag of loot. At first, I have to admit, we panicked. Then I saw an opportunity. So we packed him off on a train, letting you know which train he was getting.” She fished the brooch from my pocket, the one I had taken off her following her interview. “So I brought a bugging device for the armed police to listen in on while we awaited your confession.”
“So your story was made up?” I asked, as though that was the worst thing that had just happened.
“Of course it was made up. But if it makes you feel any better, Gary played along as well, which is why he was able to tell people about the teacher he’d met. Mr Holding, we’d like to talk with you a moment but then you can go back to work. Mr … ticket inspector? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“I have no name.”
“Ooo … Kay. Uh, same with you anyway. Miss Ashcroft? It’s good to see Gary did more good here than just catch a bad guy.”
Ashcroft looked a little shaken. “I think catching a jewel thief is more important than bringing home a stray.”
“In my job, miss, I find them both rewarding.”
It was around this point my brain allowed itself to catch up and I finally realised I was heading back to prison. The others were filing out the room, and as the armed police dragged me back onto the platform it was to the sound of a train’s horn blaring as it sped through the station. The one thing which annoyed me most about all of it was that even after interrogating my four suspects I was still no closer to tracking down the whereabouts of my nephew.
The trains, of course, only seemed to laugh.
THE MURDER OF LOYALTY
CHAPTER ONE
“Come on, love, what does a score get me?”
Jennifer Appleton had been having a good day. Her sister had phoned to tell her she was getting married, her work had accepted her Christmas holiday request and when she had gone to book the flight she discovered the price had dropped two hundred pounds since yesterday. Plus, it was Friday, so Jennifer Appleton had no complaints at all. When John had called her to ask whether she wanted to go out for a drink or two, she had even begun to think now might be a good time for her to drop some not-so-subtle hints herself about when precisely the two of them should be getting married. After all, her sister was younger than her and, if John didn’t want to make her feel old and left out, he would have to pop the question soon.
The pub they had chosen was large, spacious and part of a chain. And, typically with such pubs on a Friday night, it was crammed with people who had spilled out from their offices surrounding the river. Jennifer knew John preferred such environments, although she could not imagine why. She would have gone for a quieter, more personal place, but so long as she could get her hints dropped, she wasn’t all that bothered where they were.
Things were all going well – they had even found a table – when a drunken lout had leered over her, asking her what a score could get him.
“Excuse me?” she asked, not being able to think of anything else to say.
“Girls like you are only with guys like him because he’s paying you.” The man was clearly drunk, she could tell as much from his eyes and the way he wavered. He produced his wallet and began counting out notes there and then. “I got … twenty. That get me a really good time?”
John was halfway to his feet, murder in his eyes, but Jennifer’s hand snapped out and caught him at the wrist. She looked at him pleadingly, but it did nothing to calm him.
Thankfully at that point two other men appeared, one either side of the drunk, and took him by the arms.
“Sorry,” one of them said sheepishly. “Too much to drink, Harry. Come on, man.”
Harry tried to shake away his friends’ hands, although they were less drunk and far more insistent. Together, they managed to steer him away.
“Sorry,” one of the men said over his shoulder as the three disappeared into the crowd.
John seemed to want to go after him, but Jennifer did not let go. She knew his temper was matched only by his protectiveness of her, and that should the two ever combine, it could only end in something ugly. John followed the trio with his eyes, but Jennifer could not imagine he could even see them any more.
“Just ignore him,” she said. The good mood had vanished from their table and she knew it would certainly not be a good idea to begin dropping hints as to their impending engagement. It annoyed her no end, but at least the incident hadn’t collapse
d into a fistfight.
The two of them spent the next half hour talking of nothing. John still hadn’t calmed down and Jennifer was beginning to wish they had chosen a different pub after all. Short of suggesting they leave, however, there was nothing she could think of to do about it. John was not a man who liked to admit defeat in anything, and leaving just because of that drunken lout would have irked him for days, weeks even. Jennifer had seen him in such moods before; they were, in fact, the reason her sister had never been keen on the man. He was violent and he was unpredictable, her sister had said. The truth was John may have had a temper, but he had never been violent towards Jennifer; and being unpredictable was not exactly a bad character trait in a future fiancé.
“What say we go get something to eat?” she said at last. She had been trying to think of a way to get them out of the pub, and food was always a good magnet for John. If they ordered from his favourite Chinese, it might even make him forget about the drunk.
“Sure,” John said. “I could do without the chance of running into that guy again anyway.”
That had been the other thing Jennifer had been afraid of. John was a large man and spent a fair amount of time in the gym. She was always afraid that if he got into a fight he would kill someone.
They finished their drinks and headed outside. It was still early evening and there were crowds of people awash upon the street. Jennifer could sense John was still in a bad mood and it annoyed her slightly. After all, she had been the one the guy had been leering over, and she would have happily forgotten about the whole thing by now. It wasn’t that John especially bore grudges, but it certainly did take him a while to forget things.
John stopped walking so suddenly that Jennifer thought he must have collided with an invisible wall. Her heart was racing with the uncertainty of what he was playing at, and as she looked about she took in everything around her. To the left were two other pubs, each with their own crowd of patrons outside. The rest of the area to the left was taken up by walls forming the backs of whatever buildings lined the river. To the right, Jennifer could see the river flowing gently, a metal rail barrier preventing anyone from falling in. There was a single boat moored on their side of the river, but there was no one on it and she could not imagine John would have much cared for it.
Then she saw what had made him stop and her heart almost stopped with him.
Leaning against the railing, swaying gently and slurring lewd comments at any woman who passed him by, was the drunken lout Harry. His two friends were with him, all of them drinking and laughing. Neither of Harry’s friends appeared especially apologetic for his behaviour this time.
“Don’t go over,” Jennifer all but pleaded.
“It’ll only take a moment.”
“John, please.”
He shook off her arm and slowly walked to the river. Harry continued to harass anyone who came near, and Jennifer could see one poor girl stumble over her own feet as she attempted to get away quickly. Harry laughed and one of his friends high-fived him. Jennifer immediately understood that the entire incident in the pub had been a sham, that Harry had perhaps even been dared to say something stupid to her. When they had taken him away, his friends had not been sorry at all, which meant they had all been laughing afterwards.
Before any words had been spoken, she knew this was going to end in bloodshed.
One of Harry’s friends noticed John approaching and said something to his companions. They were all grinning like fools, which Jennifer knew was only making the situation worse.
“Evening, lads,” John said flatly. “Having a good night?”
“So-so,” Harry replied. “I spent that score, though.” He made a show of rooting through his pockets and came out with some loose change. “I got … sixty-seven pence. What can I get for sixty-seven pence?”
John stared at him in stony silence. Jennifer stood several metres behind him, holding her breath and knowing this was about to turn sour. Harry was laughing, his two friends were laughing, and none of them understood just how badly things were about to go. She wished she could warn them, wished she could get them to run away and not look back, but she was frozen. She had seen this happen before; only once, but it had been enough for her to fear it ever happening again.
“Sixty-seven pence,” John replied slowly.
“Or,” Harry said, looking either side at his friends, “we could have a whip-round. I think we should be able to …”
John slapped the money out of his hand so quickly and violently that Harry didn’t even see the move coming. But John did not follow through on his attack; he just stood there watching them, waiting for them to make the next move.
One of Harry’s friends lost his smile, but Harry and the other man seemed to think it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.
“Don’t have no money at all now,” Harry said, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Any chance of a freebie?”
John launched himself at Harry and Jennifer shrieked. About her, people stopped to stare, but no one made any move to contact the police. John had grabbed Harry about the throat and his two friends were struggling to get him off. The four of them swayed this way and that as though they were one body, emitting shouts of rage from John and a strangled gurgle from Harry. Jennifer watched in horror at the scene but could not even find her voice to scream at them to stop.
She watched as John was pushed backwards as finally Harry’s friends managed to tear his hands away. Harry was choking, but as he crouched on the floor Jennifer could see he was sobering. His two friends threw punches at John, but John was too big a man and too experienced in fighting for them to even connect. Throwing himself forward, John slammed his fists into the two men. It was not an attack designed to especially hurt either of them, but to get them out of his way. One of them men fell, the other stayed on his feet and took another swing; and John belted him across the face, sending the man sprawling in an arc of blood.
Murmurs shot through the gathering crowd and Jennifer stood with frozen eyes, wishing someone would do something, wishing someone would at least phone the police. But in these situations no one ever did anything. They just stood there and watched, like spectators at a cockfight who hadn’t put down any money.
Harry was shouting by this point, angry at what John had done to him. One of his friends was still on the floor and didn’t look as though he was going to be getting up any time soon; his other friend looked terrified. John lunged for him and the man turned and ran, leaving Harry and John alone.
This was precisely what Jennifer had been afraid of. In a one-on-one fight, John was going to kill him.
John lunged forward, grabbing Harry by the collar, but Harry was too pent up with fury to allow him to retain his hold. He slammed his head forwards, his forehead cracking against John’s nose with such force they both staggered at the impact. John’s face boiled with a crimson fury, lava bubbling behind his eyes, his entire body trembling in rage. It was what Jennifer always referred to as his volcano look, and she knew precisely what was about to happen.
Harry squealed as John lunged for him, his fist slamming into the man’s face. Jennifer heard something crack and knew it was John’s knuckles: the best way to break your fingers was to punch someone in the jaw. Harry fell, his cheek torn open by one of John’s rings, but John did not stop there. He swung his left fist at Harry, knocking him with such force that he slammed into the railing bordering the river. John grabbed him with both hands, twisting him about and hurtling him to the floor.
Breathing heavily, his rage still burning, John placed his back to the railing and stared down at the now sober Harry.
“John!” Jennifer shouted, her body struggling to run over to him but her mind refusing to allow her any movement at all. She could hear the tears to her own voice and hated the fact she could be so afraid of the man she loved. “John, please.”
Harry spat blood, his face filled with panic. He knew there was little chance of him walki
ng away from this with his legs intact and the realisation spread a change across his face. His panic darkened, became anger, and as Jennifer watched she could see at last she was watching two furious combatants who had no intention of relinquishing any ground at all.
Launching himself from his position on the ground, Harry slammed into John, his arms encircling his midsection. John thumped down with his fists upon Harry’s back, but Harry seemed to have become insensate to pain and continued pushing. John’s back struck the railing and he gasped at the unexpected impact. Jennifer could see the shock in his eyes and knew it was going to give him at least a second’s worth of hesitation.
A second was all Harry needed. His left fist cracked against John’s chin, his right came around a moment later to strike his face. Jennifer could see John’s shock deepening as he entirely failed to counter any of the attacks being made against him. Harry had him pinned to the railing and was hammering blow after blow upon him. Blood spattered the ground as John fell, his hand tightly grasping a rail as he attempted to drag himself back to his feet. Harry was screaming, probably unaware even of what he was saying as he unleashed all his aggressions upon his attacker.
Then John shoved forward; a final, feeble attempt to place some distance between them. Harry took only a momentary step backwards before dropping into a crouch and throwing himself again into his foe. His shoulder struck John’s belly and his arms once more encircled his midsection. An instant before they struck the rails, Harry straightened his back and with an almost superhuman effort used the railing to lever John into the air. John’s eyes widened as he realised his predicament, but Harry was still screaming at him. Jennifer felt her heart collapse as she saw John’s arms flail uselessly, his anger gone, his eyes now filled with terror.
Harry pushed and John disappeared over the railing. Slowly stepping backwards, Harry laughed sickeningly, his legs promising to stumble beneath him.
Jennifer was only half aware of the commotion around her, of the crowd’s varied reaction. Some had decided the show was over and had turned to go home, others had rushed to the railing to peer down; for the most part they stood there staring. Jennifer felt her legs buckle and suddenly she was on the ground, her tears flowing, her world collapsing. She could feel her brain swimming and dark spots appeared at the edges of her consciousness.