Assassin's Web

by Richard T. Burke

  I repeated my question.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

  “My face is plastered across every television screen and newspaper in the country. If I turn up in public, somebody is bound to recognise me.”

  “We need to arrange the meeting somewhere where nobody will see you.”

  “Exactly.”

  Val and I sat at opposite ends of the sofa, deep in thought, although I suspected her mind was on other things.

  “We don’t need an answer until tomorrow,” I said, pushing myself out of the cushions. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for all your help.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Before I reached the door, it swung open. Nick entered the room, a compact camera dangling by a cord from his hand. Behind him, I spotted his rucksack lying in the hallway.

  “One more thing,” he said. “I need evidence that you’re alive.”

  “So you can get paid?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “No proof, no payment; that’s the way it works.”

  “How are we going to do this?”

  “If you stand to the side of the television, I’ll put the news on and record a short video clip. As long as the time is on the screen, that should be enough.”

  “Don’t mind me,” Val said. “It’s only my house. I’ll leave you two to it. Goodbye, John. I’ll see you in the morning, Alex.”

  Nick stepped back awkwardly as Val passed through the doorway. He watched her until she started up the staircase and disappeared from view. Blowing out his cheeks, he grabbed the remote control and navigated to the BBC twenty-four-hour news channel. The time in the top right corner signalled a minute before midnight. “Just there,” he said, pointing.

  I moved into position. “Is this okay?”

  Nick nodded and fiddled with the camera controls.

  The introductory music played. “Welcome to the BBC news at the start of Friday, the thirty-first of July, two thousand and twenty,” the presenter announced. “In our top story, police are intensifying the hunt for schoolteacher turned murderer, Alex Parrott, as the search enters its third day.”

  I glanced sideways and saw a photograph of my face staring out from the screen.

  “Later in the programme, we have an interview with the Secretary of State for Education where we ask how safeguards put in place to protect children have allowed a serial-killer to slip through the checks and work in a classroom. We’ll also—”

  The picture turned to black as Nick pressed the off button. “Thanks,” he said, lowering his head to watch the playback on the tiny viewscreen. “That’s all I need.”

  “What happens next?”

  “When I get back to my house, I’ll transfer it to my computer and send it via Bitmessage.”

  “You’re leaving now?”

  “I’m not Val’s favourite person at the moment. It’s probably best for all of us if I leave right away.”

  I wanted to defend her but was unable to think of an appropriate response. “How are you going to get home?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way. As we discussed, I’d appreciate it if you would keep my name out of it, if and when you talk to the police.”

  “No problem. Thanks for keeping me alive.”

  Nick grinned. “I’d like to say it was a pleasure, but it wasn’t. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll be watching the news carefully. And sorry about your sister—and your mother.”

  He crossed to the front door and grabbed his rucksack. He slipped the camera inside and pulled out a pair of mobile phones together with their detached batteries. “One of these is yours. The other is the burner I bought the other day. You may as well keep them. I don’t need to tell you they can be traced when the battery is fitted.”

  I stuck out my hand. Nick shook it, crushing my fingers in his powerful grip.

  “I hope you have a long and successful life,” he said. “Good luck and stay safe.”

  Day Five:

  Friday, 31st July, 2020

  Chapter 47

  I spent much of the night awake, my brain continually running over my predicament. Even during the short spells when I found a restless sleep, I dreamt I was being pursued by faceless assailants. By six o’clock, the light was already creeping through the edges of the curtains. I decided there was little point in staying in bed any longer.

  I rose and showered in the small bathroom. As I emerged afterwards, the sounds of movement ascended from the kitchen. I dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt and limped down the stairs. Even three days after the initial injury, the muscle still ached whenever I put weight on my leg.

  I pushed through the door to discover Val sitting at the small table in her dressing gown with a half-eaten bowl of cereal before her. Judging by the dark shadows under her eyes, she had slept as little as I had.

  “Good morning,” I said, trying to inject a note of cheeriness into my voice.

  “Morning,” she mumbled in reply and shovelled in another mouthful.

  “I take it you couldn’t sleep either.”

  She shook her head. When she had finished crunching, she pointed with the spoon to the cupboard to the left of the cooker. “Cereals are in there. Milk is in the fridge. You’ll find a bowl in the dishwasher. Help yourself.”

  “Look,” I began. “About last night. I wasn’t—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I think that’s the main reason I didn’t get much sleep. If I’m being totally honest about it, despite what I said, I would want to kill somebody who’d murdered a loved one. It’s just that John was so sure of himself. That’s what annoyed me. It’s all very well talking in hypothetical terms until it happens to you. I remember after John told me how my husband, Eddie, died; I wanted the men who killed him to suffer.”

  “And did they?”

  “Suffer, you mean? John said they traced the ringleaders and blew them up with a drone. After hearing that, it didn’t make me feel any better though. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, not being able to remember the face of your sister’s kidnapper.”

  “For years, I blamed myself, despite all the counselling. What made it worse was the fact that the police took no action when I finally brought the information to them.”

  “Perhaps you were right. Maybe he does deserve to die.”

  We both ate in silence. When the bowl was empty, I put down my spoon. “Which newspaper should we approach?” I asked.

  “I’ve been giving it some thought. My recommendation would be The Sun. Their website made a big thing of wanting to receive information from the public. It was only a first impression, but some of the others seemed less interested in receiving direct contact. The Sun also said they pay for stories.”

  I frowned. “This isn’t about the money. All I want is for this to go away.”

  Val reached across the table and placed her fingers over mine. “I know that, but you have to consider the future. If you need a lawyer, they don’t come cheap. And even when you do clear your name, the chances of resuming your job as if nothing had happened are pretty slim. If a newspaper is prepared to pay for your story—and I’m sure they will when they hear it—you shouldn’t reject the idea out of hand.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I suppose. Did you have any more thoughts about where to get together with the journalists, always assuming they agree to meet?”

  “I was hoping they might suggest somewhere,” Val replied, sitting back.

  “Actually, I did have a moment of inspiration while I was tossing and turning last night.”

  “Go on.”

  I explained my idea. Val asked a few more questions, then she said, “Yeah, I like it. It’s still risky, but it doesn’t expose us until we know we can trust them.”

  “How are we going to make contact? Actually, now I think about it, Nick left a pair of burner phones behind.”

  “You should definitely stay here. We can’t risk somebody spotting you and calling the police. I’ll take a phone and drive somewh
ere a few miles away before using it.”

  “Okay. We’ll need to make sure it’s charged.”

  “It isn’t possible to tell without reconnecting the battery, and that’s not a good idea until we’re ready. It’s alright, though; I’ve got a car charger that will fit.”

  “Remember, only turn it on for long enough to make the call.”

  A half smile touched Val’s lips. “Yeah, I know that.”

  “I’m sorry. Just ignore me. This whole thing is making me really nervous. What if the newspaper people don’t believe you?”

  “We’ll worry about that if it happens. Personally, I think they’ll jump at the chance to talk to you.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  With the details settled, I moved to the lounge while Val went upstairs to dress. She appeared twenty minutes later wearing a pale blue blouse over beige trousers. It was clear she had also applied makeup; the grey shadows beneath her eyes were no longer in evidence.

  She smiled at me. “Today’s the day we get your life back on track.”

  “I hope so. What time are you planning to go?”

  Val glanced at her watch. “I don’t want to call too early in case there’s nobody on the switchboard. If I leave at nine o’clock and drive for twenty minutes, that should be alright.”

  We still had a little over an hour to wait. Val was easy to talk to. The conversation steered clear of the subjects sensitive for both of us, ranging over a variety of topics including jobs and holidays. We discovered we had a mutual interest in water sports.

  “I was planning a windsurfing holiday in Greece or somewhere like that,” I said. “You could come with me.” The words just tumbled out. I felt myself redden. We had only known each other a matter of hours, and here I was asking her to spend time away with me. I silently cursed myself for my stupidity.

  Val sensed my embarrassment and flashed a sympathetic smile at me. “I’d love to, but money’s still a bit tight at the moment.”

  We sat in an awkward silence for a few seconds. Val consulted her watch again. “It’s a quarter to nine. I can’t stand all this waiting around. I’m going to leave now.”

  “Do you have everything you need?”

  She pointed to her bag on the low coffee table. “I’ve got the phone and its battery. The number’s written on a piece of paper. Am I missing anything?”

  I thought for a moment. “What about a pen? You may want to take notes.”

  “Good point. There’s one in my handbag though.”

  “Right. I hope it goes well.”

  We stood awkwardly at arm’s length. Then Val stepped in and gave me a quick hug. “I’ll see you in an hour or two.”

  I followed her to the front door and closed it behind her. With a sense of deflation, I sank back onto the sofa and turned on the television. It was still set to the BBC twenty-four-hour news programme. I was in no mood to hear any more people talking about my case, so I flicked through the channels until I came across a re-run of the classic British sitcom, Only Fools and Horses.

  Under normal circumstances, I could easily have wasted time watching Rodney and Del Boy’s antics, but I found it impossible to concentrate. In frustration, I poked the off button. I pushed myself upright, limped over to the bookshelf and perused the titles. The books were a mix of fiction and computer manuals. I pulled a Dan Brown hardback out and read the blurb. Exactly what I didn’t need—a story about kidnapping and murder. Returning the book, I wandered restlessly from room to room.

  The first suggestion of a headache nudged at the region behind my eyes. I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and took it with me upstairs. After draining half the contents, I lay on the bed, fully clothed. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes then turned on my side.

  To my surprise, my eyelids began to feel heavy. I woke two hours later to the sound of the front door opening.

  Chapter 48

  I leapt off the bed and rushed downstairs. Val stood in the open doorway, a broad grin spread across her face.

  “I take it the call went well,” I said.

  Val pulled the door closed behind her. “You could say that. I told you they’d be interested, and they were. They should be here in about half an hour.”

  “Who did you speak to?”

  “To start with a receptionist. When I explained what it was about, she asked me where I was calling from then put me straight through to a journalist. He was sceptical at first, but when I described what had happened, he was champing at the bit and wanted to meet straight away. He gave me his mobile number.”

  “How many are coming?”

  “Just him and his assistant initially. He told me they’ll want to bring in a photographer after the initial interview.”

  “And you’re sure we can trust them?”

  “Yes, I think so. Why would they give up a lead like this?”

  “To claim they trapped a serial killer?”

  Some of the shine left Val’s face. “We’ll take the precautions we discussed this morning. It’ll be okay. By the way, he said if everything I described was true and we gave them exclusive access, they’d pay well into six figures for the story, perhaps even seven.”

  I did a quick calculation in my head. “Seven figures? That’s at least a million quid.”

  “Correct. Then there’s the book deal and the film rights.”

  “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? The first priority is to clear my name. Anything after that is a bonus.”

  “I know. But with that sort of money, you could do whatever you want. You’d never have to work again.”

  “I’d rather have my old life back.” I inhaled a deep breath then blew out through my mouth. “But thanks for arranging everything,” I added, keen not to seem ungrateful.

  Val’s mood deflated slightly at my lack of enthusiasm. She glanced at her watch. “They’ll be here soon.” She took a pace backwards and studied me. “In the meantime, we need to make you look more like a schoolteacher and less like a criminal.”

  I looked at my reflection in the hall mirror. My hair needed brushing, and I badly needed a shave.

  A wry smile tugged at her lips. “There’s a comb in the bathroom cabinet. You can borrow my razor to scrape the fluff off your face.”

  I followed her up the stairs. She grabbed a pink, lady razor from the side of the bath and rummaged in the cupboard above the sink.

  “Here you are,” she said, handing me an unopened pack of razor blades and a plastic comb. “Try to make yourself a bit more presentable.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” I replied.

  She laughed and stepped out, closing the door behind her.

  Ten minutes later, I emerged shaven and groomed. I returned to my room and selected a chequered long-sleeved shirt from the pile Val had left for me. Still doing up the last of the buttons, I headed towards the staircase.

  “In here,” Val called from the master bedroom. I followed the sound of her voice and found her looking out of the window. On the double bed lay the burner phone and its battery.

  “Any sign of them yet?” I asked.

  She shook her head and glanced at her watch. “There’s still ten minutes to go until the agreed time—oh hang on, this could be them.”

  I shuffled closer and inhaled the faint scent of her perfume. Looking over her shoulder, I watched a black BMW glide to a halt beside a semi-detached house diagonally opposite on the other side of the road. A large, red and white For-Sale sign stood outside. Two men emerged. The driver withdrew a scrap of paper from the pocket of the dark jacket he wore above a pair of blue jeans. He studied the contents before conversing with his colleague. Together, they walked past the estate agent’s board towards the front door of the property.

  “Are you going to call them?” I whispered.

  Val waved a hand to shush me.

  We watched from across the quiet residential street as the man in the jacket pressed the doorbell. Seconds later, he repeated the action and peered thro
ugh the door’s frosted glass panel.

  “Are they alone?” Val asked.

  I moved forward half a step and inspected the vehicles parked alongside the pavement. “As far as I can tell, yes.”

  “Right, I’ll make the call. Keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

  I rested my elbows on the window sill and studied the two men. The driver pressed the doorbell once again, shuffling from one foot to the other as he waited impatiently for somebody to let them in. While I watched, the man placed his hand inside his jacket.

  “He’s answering,” I said.

  Behind me, Val spoke into the handset. “Is that Josh Nixon?”

  “… No, we’re still planning to meet you. We just wanted to make sure you’d come alone. I hope you understand given the circumstances.”

  “… Of course. You can leave your car where it is; it’s on the other side of the road. The house is number fifty-four.”

  “… Right. See you in a minute.”

  From my vantage point, I saw the man return the phone to his jacket and stare in my direction. I stepped back behind the cover of the curtain. When I peeked around the edge moments later, the pair were already halfway across the street, striding towards our location.

  “Any other sign of movement?” Val asked, her voice rigid with tension.

  My gaze ran along the parked cars. All seemed empty. “No, only those two.”

  Even though I was expecting it, the chime of the doorbell sounded incredibly loud.

  “I’ll let them in,” Val said. “You go into the kitchen and stand by the back door. If anything looks wrong, I’ll shout and you can make a run for it.”

  “Alright,” I replied, although I had no intention of leaving her alone if things took a turn for the worse.

  “After you.”

  I hurried down the stairs as fast as my injured leg would allow and headed along the hall into the kitchen. As I entered the room, my eye caught sight of a knife rack with half a dozen handles sticking out. I grabbed the largest I could see and moved towards the door leading into the small back garden.