‘Don’t–’ Mason screamed, but his words were interrupted by the blast of the revolver and the spray of scarlet on the wall behind Susan Chance.
18
Evie climbed from the cab and asked the driver to wait. She was looking at a run-down cesspool of a house, clearly suffering from a lack of attention. The windows were boarded and the paint was flaking off. The smell also didn’t go unnoticed: something stale.
Trying not to breathe in too much of it, she approached the door and gave it a knock. She peered through the glass but it seemed empty inside. No movement, no light. Everything that suggested she should exercise caution.
‘Can I help you?’ came a strong British accent from behind. It wasn’t the posh accent one would normally associate with England, but more like a rough cockney.
Evie turned to look at the man, a lean guy with a shaved head and glasses. His mouth hung open with distaste and his British dentistry met the cliché. ‘Hi. My name’s Evie Black. I’m looking for Charlie Richards.’
The man studied her for a moment. ‘What’s this about?’
‘I want to talk to you about the disappearance of a young boy. Thomas Chance. He was one of your students, I believe?’
‘Oh, ‘ere we bloody go. Every time anything goes wrong in this bloody country, everyone looks to the immigrant. I swear to God, I’m gonna complain to the EFT about this.’ The man moved quickly to the front door and fumbled his keys into the lock.
‘Sir, can I just have one moment?’ Evie asked desperately.
‘No.’
‘Fine, I’ll print some nasty shit about you anyway.’
Charlie stopped then, a contemplating look on his face as he turned. ‘Journalist?’
‘Of sorts.’ Evie shrugged. ‘Look, Thomas Chance was abducted yesterday afternoon. We spoke to your employer, who said you’d phoned in sick. Where were you?’
A resigned sigh escaped him and he stepped back out onto his porch, looking up and down the street. ‘Look, I can tell you what I was doing, but I want your word that you won’t let any of this get out. If it does, I’ll lose my job.’
Evie had that feeling you sometimes get when you’re hungry and you can smell hot food. It was a tedious longing. ‘I swear, it’s between me and you.’
‘All right…’ Charlie looked down at his feet. ‘I was with a woman.’
‘I don’t understand. Why would that cost you your job?’
‘She was… you know…’
Evie’s mouth hung open and she shook her head. Why so evasive?
‘She was… a whore.’
‘Oh.’
‘But you promised. You swore you wouldn’t repeat this.’
‘And I won’t. But how can I credit this? Do you have any proof?’
‘I’m his proof, darling.’ A new voice from somewhere behind them.
Evie turned to the source of the voice and saw a slender Asian woman approaching the house, looking down at Evie and heading inside. She wore blue denim shorts and a low-cut top, which let almost everything hang out. Whatever this woman was paid to perform, it wasn’t discretion.
‘Miss Black, I don’t want you coming around here again. You got it?’ Charlie let the hooker inside and didn’t wait for an answer before slamming the door in her face.
With nobody to speak to and no more leads to follow, Evie headed back down the path and towards the cab, mumbling under her breath, ‘Goddamnit.’
19
It was late afternoon and school was finishing. It was a perfect time to hunt.
The Lullaby Killer had considered waiting it out, giving it a few days before he struck again, but the thirst was more powerful than ever. Although debating it inside his head, he’d managed to convince himself that it wouldn’t hurt to window shop.
He took the RV down Waylard Road, watching all the kids returning from school. Before long, they would drop their bags off at home and announce that they were heading over to their friends’ houses. It would then be expected not to hear from them for hours. That was when the killer would take what he needed and get out of there.
No, don’t. Be on your best behaviour. Just for a little while.
Why though? The police are clueless.
But Mr Black isn’t, he reminded himself.
That was the difference with the detective; he was the one sheep in the herd that refused to move. This… Mason Black person was far too involved for the killer’s liking, but what could he do? He had almost caught him before, until he’d simply quit his job.
That’s dedication, huh?
The killer drove on down the street, the rain stopping just long enough for a gust of wind to sweep down and lift the matted leaves off the ground. They carried through the air and came at the windshield of his RV in a flurry, distracting him.
Maybe the school is your best bet, the tormenting voice in his head teased.
No, you shouldn’t.
But please do.
The withdrawal was achingly bad. It had been less than a couple of hours, and already, he wanted to hear the desperate cries of some nasty little kid. Some privileged little bastard who thought the world of himself, while all the parents and teachers praised his intelligence. It was a load of shit, of course–he would grow up and follow the system, landing a job in a bank or at a law firm, paying taxes and getting married like every other fucker in America.
This country is bullshit. People are bullshit.
On the other hand, he could take a girl. Some little bitch that would only grow up to upset her father and break some poor guy’s heart. He knew they could be real sluts, those women. Never for him – they were too picky – but they were sluts to other men and nothing made him angrier.
The killer drove on, still fighting his urge to choke the life out of another child.
Do it.
Don’t.
Do it.
20
Mason was discharged from leaving his statement, and headed straight to the Downadays Bar to meet Evie. It had been their favourite place to drink for years now, a quiet little spot in an even quieter location. The music was mediocre and the food was shitty, but the drinks were cheap. What else mattered?
Evie was waiting for him when he pulled up. Her hair was let down and her eyes had bags under them. She definitely needed sleep, if looks were anything to go by.
‘Took your time,’ she said.
‘I had some things to do,’ Mason said bluntly, walking across the lot.
‘Some things?’
‘Yeah, some things.’
As soon as he opened the door, they were struck by the blaring, youthful music. It was awful – some high-pitched guy singing about how a woman had let him down – but at least it had an upbeat rhythm. They took a seat at the bar, Mason dumping a file in front of him and Evie removing her purse from her shoulder.
‘So, did you talk to the teacher?’ Mason asked, signalling for two beers.
‘It’s a dead end. How did things go at the crime scene?’
‘Actually, we found a body.’
‘Well, duh.’
‘No, I mean we found another body. A hidden one.’ Mason shoved the file her way.
Evie flipped it open and looked at the picture of a man. ‘You got an ID already?’
‘Sure did. His wife is on her way back from New York right now. I’m driving her from the airport tomorrow afternoon. I’ll weave in my interview during the journey.’
‘That’s how I know you’re my brother,’ Evie said, looking up with a grin.
Two bottles of beer appeared in front of them, and Mason handed over some cash. ‘You’re welcome to publish that. A gift, from me to you.’
Evie beamed. ‘You’re sure?’
Mason nodded.
‘Mase…’
‘Don’t call me that. You know it pisses me off.’ He took a long sip of his beer.
‘Well then, Mason, did you talk to Sandra yet?’
‘No, and I have no intention of doing so.’
> Evie closed the file and rotated in her chair to look at him. ‘Listen, I won’t tell you what to do. But I will say that if I were you, I would make my feelings known. Nothing aggressive. Just adult in nature. At least then I would be able to see Amy.’
Mason sank the rest of his beer, trying not to think about his daughter. The last thing he needed right now was to be reminded of his family–or lack thereof.
‘Hey, sweetness.’ A man appeared to Evie’s right side. He was scruffy. Stocky, but not too tall. He clearly hadn’t shaved and his hair was far too greasy to go unnoticed. ‘How about I buy you a drink or two, and then you can come back to my place?’
Mason just stared at him.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Aw, come on. You don’t gotta be like that,’ the drunk said, looking her up and down.
Evie turned in her chair. ‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m here to discuss work with my brother over here. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back to it.’
Just as she was turning back, he grabbed her wrist.
Mason shot to his feet, leaning over Evie and grabbing at the man’s coat and pulling him forward. He was lighter than Mason had expected. ‘Keep your dirty fucking mitts to yourself.’
The drunk gawked at him, obvious intimidation in his expression. After being silenced for a few seconds, he cleared his throat and spoke up. ‘Whatever. Bitch probably got crabs, anyway.’
Mason shrugged him off and watched him leave.
‘Some people, huh?’ Evie laughed.
‘It’s not funny. People like that don’t know what no means.’
‘Relax. He’s not the first creep to try it on with me.’
Over the next hour or so, after they’d discussed the case and caught up on the day’s events, Mason tipped the barman and they went for the door. They began to walk to the Mustang, when Mason heard footsteps behind him.
But he was a second too late.
‘Yo, tree trunk.’ It was the drunk, slurring his words and swinging an iron pole.
Mason turned and raised his wrist in time to block it, but it rang agony up his arm and he cried out. There was more than one of them this time. Three, it seemed, in the haze of adrenaline. One of them grabbed at Evie, and she wriggled and squirmed.
His arm feeling like it was on fire, Mason saw a lazy haymaker coming his way. He ducked, dropped to a knee and punched as hard as he could in the guy’s balls. Mason knew this was a temporary stun at best, so he instantly shot back to his feet, grabbed the man’s head and drove his knee upwards into the man’s nose.
The drunk was too stunned to react and fell onto his back with a crippled moaning sound. One of the others, his friend, stepped forward. Mason swept his eyes to the right, to ensure that Evie hadn’t been hurt.
But she was doing better than he was.
She was holding her knife firmly and was even in the stance that Mason had taught her. She and the attacker were both paused, one ready to attack, the other preparing to defend, and both of them figuring out which was which.
The second guy went for Mason, landing a sucker punch on his eye. It stung, but not enough to bring him down. After all, Mason had more than two feet on him. Judging the guy’s weight, Mason stumped forward and shot a left jab to the man’s ribcage, then quickly lifted the man by his throat with his right hand. He came off the ground easily, and Mason brought him down even easier.
There was a crunching sound when his spine hit the ground.
Evie.
Mason turned to his sister, who was being closed in on. Unprepared to let his sister get hurt, he went forward and grabbed the guy, pinning him against the Mustang. He must not have realised that his friends had been taken down, as when he saw them, he ended his resistance, letting go of Mason’s arms.
‘You picked the wrong day to fuck with us,’ Mason said through gritted teeth. ‘You give me one goddamn reason why I shouldn’t rip your head off right now.’
‘Mason,’ Evie said, lowering the knife.
‘Please,’ said the guy, whom Mason could now see was barely an adult.
‘One reason.’ Mason couldn’t control himself. He was seeing red. Joshua taking his wife, the Lullaby Killer returning to wreak havoc, and now these assholes were trying to touch his sister.
‘Mason!’ Evie yelled, bringing him back into the moment.
Mason swung the guy around and kicked him up the ass to encourage a swift departure. His blood was still boiling as he tried to recover his breath. ‘Get the hell out of here, and call an ambulance for your little buddies. Make yourself useful.’
‘It’s all right,’ Evie said when they were alone. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Mason said, suddenly acknowledging the pain in his arm. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. I told you there are people like this out there.’
Evie put a hand on her hip. ‘And you just thought you would be a hero, huh?’
There was silence as the clouds rolled into each other, making a grumble of the sky.
‘I know what this is about,’ she went on.
‘You do?’
‘Of course. After the way Mom and Dad died, you feel like you have to protect your sister. But I’m doing just fine. I really am. Look… you need to get some rest. It’s a big day tomorrow, right?’
Mason was too pissed off to argue. ‘Right. Let’s go.’
They climbed into the car and drove off, leaving a whimpering teenager crying as he called 911, standing over his friends’ unconscious, injured bodies.
21
Mrs Sampson was a small woman, and much younger than expected. She walked out of the arrival gate with a suitcase in hand and a lost expression on her face. That was, until she read the card with her name on it.
‘Mrs Sampson? I’m Mason Black, your escort.’
She afforded a smile, no matter how false. ‘The detective I spoke to on the phone?’
‘Well, no,’ he said. ‘That was my contact, Bill Harvey.’ Mason wanted to tell her that he was only a PI. That helpful dose of honesty was always nice to get out of the way. But when it wasn’t necessary, like right now, he didn’t see much point. Besides, the longer they thought he was a cop, the more information they were willing to give. ‘I’m so sorry about what’s happened. If there’s anything I can do…’
‘Just the ride home,’ she said gratefully. ‘And please, call me Mandy.’
Mason showed her to his Mustang, addressing her worried look by telling her that he was a slow driver. Most people reacted the same when they got into his car, climbing in with a look of curiosity, but leaving with a pale face and shaky legs.
‘So, Mandy, I want to ask you some questions about your husband, if that’s okay. Anything you don’t want to tell me, you’re not obligated to say. And if you’d like to stop, don’t be too shy to stop me.’
Mandy adjusted herself in the passenger seat as they drove away from the airport. She turned her face, probably to hide her sadness. ‘Anything I can do to help. We have to pass the time somehow, right?’
Mason smiled at her charm and admired her courage. Most people would have been in pieces by now, he thought. ‘When did you last hear from your husband? Did you know he was going up the trail?’
‘Sure I knew,’ she said. ‘He called me beforehand.’
‘From home?’
‘From the parking lot at the base of the trail.’
Mason knew the spot from when he had parked there only the day before. But that means… ‘He called you from a cell phone?’ He had difficulty focusing on driving while his heart was beating this fast.
‘Yeah. He said he saw somebody suspicious. A man with a crying child. He was calling me for advice, seeing if he had a right to intervene. I told him to stay away, but…’ Mandy’s voice cracked then, and she waved air at her eyes.
Mason looked at her in the rear-view mirror, watching her try to dry her eyes. Could that have been the killer? He said nothing, letting her decide for herself wheth
er to carry on talking.
‘He followed anyway,’ Mandy continued.
‘Mrs Sampson, no cell phone was recovered from the crime scene.’
She looked right at him, and a quick glance told him that her makeup was running a mess. He opened up the glove compartment, rifled through the paperwork and spare gun with one hand, and plucked out a pack of tissues. He handed them to her.
‘Thank you.’ She blew her nose into one of the tissues. ‘But there must be some mistake. He most definitely had his cell on him.’
Mason thought quietly. ‘What’s the bet that if I find the phone, I’ll find something on it?’
‘James was a careful man. I wouldn’t put it past him to take a photo or two. Keep it for evidence if you need it. I have no use for it.’
‘You’re a very kind woman, Mrs Sampson.’
‘Mandy,’ she corrected again.
Mason drove her home and walked her to the door. The police would be around soon, but at least he’d gotten what he needed from her, and he’d gotten it quicker than they ever would have. He left his card with the woman, and she wished him luck in finding the killer.
Mason got back in his car and drove back to the crime scene.
Finally, he thought, a missing detail that might lead to a clue.
22
It was getting dark when Mason arrived, and the parking lot was empty. It was eerie, but worth the possibility of finding something.
Using the flashlight on his phone, he stumbled back up the trail, ducking into the row of trees where the path split in two. It was an odd positioning for a murder scene, he thought. It was out of the way just enough so that not everybody would see it, but it still wouldn’t have been too hard to find.
Rummaging through the dark, Mason followed the tracks back to where the man had been found. He tried not to look at the tree where the body of little Thomas Chance had been hanging only a day ago. The image sickened him.
How many more children have to die before I find this son of a bitch?
Mason reached the clearing, searching all over the ground for the cell phone. It could have been anywhere around here, if it hadn’t been stamped into the mud, then picked up by a greedy kid who lucked into finding a lost phone. Mason only hoped that if somebody had taken it, they would hand it into the police before long. But as past experience told him, that rarely happened.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 5