I've Been Watching You

by KA Richardson

  ‘Mr Brown,’ she said coolly. ‘Do you want something?’ Her attitude had changed; normally the nurses and doctors didn’t get to know what the crimes of the patients were. He’d bet his hat that the youthful guard had just spilled the beans and told her everything.

  ‘Water,’ he croaked, wanting the pretence to continue. He couldn’t take three people out in his condition. Silently she held a cup to his mouth, and he took a few sips. The water was tepid, metallic, but what more could he expect?

  He replaced his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

  When they all left the room a short time later, he pulled the tool out from under his back. He smiled as he realised he’d pulled out a Stanley knife. Perfect.

  It seemed like hours before anyone else came in the room, but the nurse entered to check him followed by the young guard. As they entered the older guard followed.

  ‘Am gonna go take a leak and get a coffee from the café. You want anything, Billy?’

  ‘No, I’m good thanks.’ Billy was already focussed on the nurse, watching as she checked Mitchell’s dressings and vitals. It was the worst thing about being in hospital he had to acknowledge, being woken every two hours so someone could check blood pressure with a beeping machine was definitely not fun.

  The nurse walked to the chart, signed it off, and left the room. Mitchell waited until the guard followed then slowly, he got to his feet. His body screamed at him to lie back down as he stood. He was surprised to find himself a little unsteady on his feet. Moving as quietly as he could, he made his way to the door and peeked out through the window.

  The older guard was nowhere in sight, the young one was sitting on the chair outside looking bored.

  Positioning himself behind the door, he yelled out, knowing the guard would come running.

  Billy didn’t disappoint, running inside, and then stopping in confusion as he realised the bed was empty. It was long enough though – there was a flash as the blade moved across the front of Billy’s neck, and he gurgled as he fell to his knees, his hands grabbing desperately at his neck as his life left him floating in an ocean of red.

  Mitchell stood over him and looked down in satisfaction; that was definitely the easiest way to kill someone. Wincing, he carefully leant forward to check the pockets on Billy’s stab vest with his good hand. He pulled out the little money the lad had and straightened slowly. Pain rushed over him in waves and for a second, he thought he would throw up. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, and slowly opened the door, glancing up and down. The nurse was on the phone to someone, her back turned. There wasn’t anyone else in the corridor at that time and he knew without any doubt that it was now or never. Shuffling the opposite way to the nurses’ station, he eventually ended up at the lifts. His breathing was laboured, his chest felt like it was going to explode, but he somehow managed to get into the lift.

  Breathing rapidly, he tried to build energy to move once he hit the ground floor. He needed to find somewhere to rest up, recover from his wounds, then it would be time to start planning what he’d do next. He couldn’t stay in Sunderland, he knew that. He’d thought of London before – that would do. For now. One day he would come back for Bree Cassidy, and next time he wouldn’t fail. The eye he could see out of squinted with determination.

  He opened the hospital door, slipped into the corridor, and left.

  Ben stared in utter shock at Ali as he explained that Mitchell Brown had escaped from the hospital.

  ‘What the hell do you mean he escaped?’ Ben’s voice couldn’t have reached a higher pitch if she’d tried. She’d convinced herself it was all over, that he was rotting away in jail where he belonged. Hell, she’d found her sense of comfort again. She and Jacob were officially seeing each other, everything was…normal. How in the hell did someone escape custody with the kind of injuries Ali had just described?

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you, Ben. His injuries were extensive – apparently the stupid prison guard let some maintenance guy into the room who worked close enough that Mitchell managed to grab a Stanley knife without being seen. I would have had eyes in the back of my head guarding him, but that’s what the officers were there for. He killed one. The other is under investigation for leaving his post. Any normal man wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed with his injuries – I don’t know how to explain it, Ben.’

  ‘Is he coming for me?’ Ben couldn’t stop the hint of fear in her voice.

  ‘I honestly don’t know. He’ll need someplace to recover first, if he survives at all. There’s not a lot of people who would. I’m going to speak to the super, arrange for protection until…’

  ‘Ali, you can’t.’ Ben’s voice was reasonable now, albeit shaky. ‘At this point, we don’t even know if he is coming for me, or if he’s going to hide away, recover, and come later if at all. You can’t post someone here indefinitely. Jacob’s boss had a state-of-the-art alarm system installed at ours, it’s the best one for being anti-hack. Even the windows have alarm strips on now – we’re probably safer here than anywhere. Besides, it’s going to take some time for him to recover. All we can do is be vigilant and pray that he’s not going to try again, but be prepared in case he does.’

  Ali ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He’d been at the court when Mitchell had been sentenced, he’d been in the crowd of people who’d whooped when he got sent down, standing next to Ben and Jacob as they stood together, believing, as anyone would, that their nightmare was over. He knew Ben spoke wise words now, but he couldn’t get past the fact that due to someone’s stupidity, a monster was on the loose again.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re so calm about this. I’d be ripping my hair out, hell, I’m ripping mine out for you.’

  ‘Some things are out of our control, you know that, Ali. None of this is down to you, and there’s nothing anyone could have done to stop it. If it hadn’t been the hospital, some other opportunity would have presented itself at a later date. It’s the way with people like him.’

  ‘You sound like a counsellor.’

  ‘Well, I have been seeing Amelia again, and she’s right. I can’t control what he does, I can only control what I do. So, I’ll take precautions and be prepared. But I’m not going to let Mitchell Brown escaping control my life. The control he once had over me is gone and it’s not being allowed back.’

  Ali knew what she was saying made sense. It didn’t stop the ball of dread settling in his gut though. This case would never sit right with him, he still had nightmares about rushing into Ben’s home and seeing the blood everywhere. Maybe it was time for him to talk to someone too. He truly felt like he was getting too old for this crap. Even the good stuff didn’t feel as good anymore, like hearing that Eve Whitworth had managed to get some speech back and her son was able to talk to her again. He’d found that out just yesterday, before this whole mess with Mitchell had erupted.

  Just once he’d like things to go smoothly, to feel normal and happy again. It had been a long time since he’d had anything remotely like that. Making the decision that he would phone the welfare team for a chat when he got back upstairs to the MIT office, Ali felt the ball in his stomach lighten slightly.

  ‘Well, you know I’m here if I can do anything. I know it’s not my fault. But it sure feels like I should be able to do something.’

  ‘You did, Ali, you helped me more than you’ll ever know. Don’t worry about repeating all this for Jacob at HQ – I’m about to head over so I’ll let him know.’

  ‘OK. Ben…just…be careful, OK?’

  Ben leaned forward and gave him a hug. ‘I will be, you need to be too though. OK?’

  Ali nodded, turned, and made his way back up the stairs to the MIT office, hating the feeling of failure washing over him. Yes, the alerts for Mitchell had gone out country wide with photos in all the major newspapers and bulletins to all the police forces and immigration services. But he knew how well Mitchell could work the system. Grabbing a few Tums from the bottle in hi
s drawer, he chewed them and tried to ignore the bubble of acid as he dialled the number for the welfare team.

  There was no escaping the fact that in one way or another, Mitchell Brown would haunt him until his last breath.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to say a massive thank you to my fabulous editor, Emma Mitchell of Creating Perfection Editorial Services. She has been an absolute diamond with this book and all other work she has done with me and I look forward to the future. With her editing skills, she has taken the previous copy of this book and made it the best it has ever been, and I am eternally grateful for her wise words, her input, and her friendship.

  To the Crime Scene personnel and police officers who have put up with me constantly double-checking facts, thanks for the unwavering belief in my writing, and for regaling me with endless tales of crime scene gallows humour. To CSM Dave Mason, I say thanks for the constant support and fact checking, and to Inspector Caz, I give thanks for answering the numerous questions asked about the police procedural side of a crime novel. Any discrepancies or mistakes are mine and mine only.

  Special thanks to my amazing family – my husband Peter, my mum Jeannet and dad Derek, my brother Michael, and my Aunty Mary – without them writing just wouldn’t be possible. The support they provide is unwavering and constant. They all make me so proud every single day. They make me strive to be a better person and push me to believe in myself.

  My close friends are my rocks – constant support through good and bad, and not being too shy to tell me when I’m doing something I shouldn’t be! You know who you are – but to mention a few names (by no means all) Claire, Angela, Dionne, Rachel, Vicky, Eileen, Michelle, and Char. Keep shining like the stars you are.

  Finally, I’d like to thank YOU, the reader. Writing really wouldn’t be as pleasurable without each and every one of you, whether I know you or not, you make my dreams a reality. It makes me very proud to say I’m a member of THE Book Club, UK Crime Book Club, Crime Book Club and various other book groups on Facebook – these clubs make speaking to readers simple and I thoroughly enjoy the interaction, banter, and suggestions for books to read, characters and plots to write. I look forward to meeting more of you at the various events planned in the near future.

  Thank you for taking the time to read I’ve Been Watching You. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.