Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story

by Adam Nicholls

  ‘Mason,’ she said, walking towards the bench, ‘this is Diane Palmer, a friend of mine.’

  ‘Pleasure,’ he said, shaking her gloved hand. He was quite surprised at just how beautiful she was. She was black, tall, and had kind features. Something of a young Whitney Houston, he thought.

  ‘Thank you for coming.’ She smiled and rubbed her arms in the cold. ‘I think I may have some information for you regarding Johnny Walker.’

  Mason took a step back. ‘How did you–’

  ‘I told her all about it,’ Evie said helpfully. ‘I’m going to leave you guys to it. I’ll be in my car when you’re done.’ She disappeared abruptly, as if she had no right being there.

  For a moment, there was an awkward silence.

  ‘So,’ Mason said, taking charge, ‘you think you know something that will help?’

  ‘Maybe. You see, I knew the kid. I used to babysit him sometimes, back when he was a teenager. He always had a bit of… let’s say, an unhealthy obsession for me.’

  ‘Okay…’ Mason took this as no surprise. The woman was stunning, and even the way she spoke made you feel as though you were the only worthwhile person on the planet. ‘What happened? He stalked you?’

  ‘No, no, nothing that.’ Diane waved a hand. ‘I mean, I walked in on him masturbating once or twice. I kind of think he wanted it to happen, you know?’

  Mason nodded. Puberty was a painful time for most.

  ‘As he grew older, he stayed in touch. I got the sense he was embarrassed about those times. Perhaps even sorry. How nice he was to me after that was always a little uncomfortable, like he felt guilty about having been that way.’

  They began to walk, slowly, side by side, and in no particular direction.

  ‘You were friends with him when he died?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say friends, but he confided in me, yes. I…’ Diane looked at her feet.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I worry that this might be a waste of your time, but he turned up at my door a few nights ago, announcing his love for me. When I turned him down – politely, I might add – he spoke about how he might resort to prostitution.’

  Mason already knew this, but he bit his tongue and stayed patient.

  ‘Is that of any use to you?’ Diane stopped walking and looked up at Mason with sad eyes. She seemed to worry that she might disappoint him.

  ‘A little. You don’t happen to know where he might have gone to find one?’

  Diane’s eyes lowered to the ground, and then she slowly shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. But I know a popular spot for people who like to go… al fresco.’

  Mason snickered at the delicacy of the term. ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Over at Adaway Park. Johnny once offered to take me there in his new car. I’m sorry it’s not much use, but it might be worth taking a look.’

  ‘Sure.’ Mason nodded and reached into his pocket for his business card. ‘If you think of anything useful, Miss Palmer, would you mind giving me a call?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Her smile was something forced, but a pleasure to see nonetheless. ‘And please, call me Diane. You know… if we ever meet again.’

  ‘I hope we do, Diane.’ Mason smiled and headed back to the cars.

  11

  ‘Wait.’

  Mason could hear Evie’s footsteps padding behind him. He should have known it wouldn’t be as simple as getting into his car and leaving. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Was she useful?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Diane.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mason looked over her shoulder to see Diane in the distance. She was slowly coming back their way. He guessed that she must have lived in their direction. ‘Listen, can you drive her home? It’s not safe here at night.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Mason turned to leave, then felt that hand on his arm again. ‘What?’

  Evie sighed. ‘Can we… Could you come over tomorrow night?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Does there have to be a reason? You’re my brother, for God’s sake.’

  Mason really wanted to say yes, but for all he knew, he could be locked up by this time tomorrow. Anyway, if he was being accused of murder, then he could hardly stop for lunch. ‘I really can’t.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘It’s true. My plate’s full. No pun intended.’

  ‘Damn you.’ Evie pushed him, clearly frustrated. ‘Why do you get like this? I understand that you care about your work. That’s fine – good, even – but it’s the people around you who have to suffer your distractions.’

  As much as he hated to believe it, he knew it to be true. It had been a year since Sandra had divorced him for the exact same reason. But what choice did he have?

  ‘Just forget it.’ Evie stormed back to her car, waving Diane over.

  ‘Wait.’ Mason stepped forward. ‘Dinner at eight?’

  Evie smiled. ‘At my place.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  ‘Great. And… get some rest, okay?’

  Mason nodded, waved to Diane, and climbed into his Mustang. Although he had agreed to go home just to keep her quiet, it was getting pretty late, two o’clock in the morning now. Whatever he was looking for at Adaway Park, he wouldn’t find it in this light.

  Letting out a sigh, Mason started the car and headed home. He only hoped that he wouldn’t wake up to the police banging on his door.

  12

  Even first thing in the morning, the park was full of teenagers. Truants, Mason thought as he parked his car and walked towards the small lake. It was a beautiful day outside, or at least it would have been if he didn’t have a murder to solve.

  As he was leaving the parking lot and stomping towards the green, a four-by-four full of mouthy teenagers drove past, launching an empty soda can in their direction. ‘Gramps!’ they called in unison.

  Mason kept on walking, pitying them for the people they were destined to become. It made him think of his own daughter. She was only fourteen, but already miles ahead of these people. He just prayed that she would stay that way.

  It took all of fifteen minutes to reach the end of the park. There was nothing there to suggest that it was a sexual hotspot of any kind. There were even families here, single moms pushing buggies up the paths, but they wouldn’t be able to help him.

  But there was a picnic bench. Atop it, with their feet on the seats and their asses perched on the table-top as if it were some kind of throne, were five boys. They looked to be around eighteen. Maybe a year or two older than that.

  Expecting trouble, Mason approached.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said, taking the PI badge from his pocket and flashing it in front of them. ‘Are you boys from around here?’

  For a moment, they all looked at each other, trying to figure out which of them was being addressed. Finally, the one higher up stepped down. He was wearing a tracksuit with the jacket open, and gold chains, which were probably fake. ‘What’s it to you?’

  Mason assessed them, cautious of the aggression. But it was no reason not to lead with good manners. ‘I hear there’s some kind of area here where people come to fool around. Any chance you could point me in the right direction?’

  The boy stepped forward, came in close. ‘What are you, a fag or summit?’

  There was some obvious hostility here, but not enough to make Mason draw his firearm – there were little kids around who were far too young to be seeing things like that. Instead, he stayed on edge, prepared for any kind of attack. ‘No. A boy was murdered here a couple of days ago. I need to find the scene, and you’re going to help me.’

  The boy’s grinning expression changed to one of insult. He came even closer. Their noses would have been touching if he hadn’t been so short.

  Mason pushed him back and watched as two of his friends shot to their feet. He had known this kind of loyalty before. It was unbreakable, unless faced with the element of surprise.

  Luckily, the kid struck first, throwing a lazy
right hook at Mason. Mason caught it in his palm, grabbed his wrist, and used the joint to contort him to his knees in surrender. The other boys moved forward but stopped at the sound of their friend’s scream. ‘You move,’ Mason said firmly, ‘and I’ll break every bone in his hand.’

  One of the boys stepped back nervously.

  ‘Now,’ Mason said to the kid, ‘let’s try again. I need to find this place–’

  ‘Okay, yeah, you mean the Howls.’ He grimaced in pain, his wrist turning pink.

  ‘The Howls?’

  ‘It’s another parking lot up on the hill.’ The kid turned his head and nodded at the place, realising for the first time that his friends had abandoned him. ‘They call it that because of the – Ahhh… because of the ladies howling when they get laid, yo.’

  Mason let go of his wrist and dragged him to his feet by the collar of his jacket. ‘Great. How difficult was that, huh? Now, show me how to get up there.’

  13

  They’d had to take the Mustang, leaving the park entirely, and drive up around the hill to get to the next parking lot. When they arrived, Mason saw that it was more of a gravelly wasteland than a parking lot.

  ‘Just up here, man.’ The kid was pointing to a tree, which had five parking spots tucked secretly away behind it. The dividing lines seemed to have been made up entirely of rocks.

  ‘Get out,’ Mason said, stepping onto the dusty path. He closed the door, walked around the car and dragged the kid again, this time by his still-pink arm. ‘Show me.’

  ‘This is it,’ the kid cried. ‘This is it. Just let me go.’

  Mason obliged by releasing his arm, but he wasn’t dismissing him just yet. ‘Did you know this kid? The one who was murdered?’ He looked around at the site, wondering where he would begin his search.

  ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘Interesting. I didn’t tell you his name.’

  The boy flushed a hot red and began rubbing at the back of his neck. ‘I mean–’

  ‘Cut the crap. Tell me about him and then you can leave.’

  ‘You swear?’

  ‘Unless you killed him yourself, yeah,’ Mason said, only half joking.

  ‘Fine. All right. His name was Johnny Walker. A bit of a nerd, if y’ask me. Always had a lot to prove.’ He put a hand on his shoulder, rotating and stretching it. ‘If he came up here with a woman, he probably had to pay for it, you know? Nobody liked him.’

  ‘You think he was specifically targeted?’

  ‘I don’t… Maybe. Nobody hated him. He was just an ugly kid.’

  Mason looked at him, wondering exactly who he was calling ugly. This Johnny Walker boy may not have been the most attractive, but at least he didn’t have a gaping hole in his ear and buck teeth. ‘All right. That checks out. You can go now.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa. You’re not gonna drive me back?’

  ‘You can go now,’ Mason repeated, staring daggers at him. He must have seen the frustration in his eyes, as he turned and began his downhill hike without another word.

  Alone now, Mason studied the site. There were still tyre tracks, and they could have been fresh. It proved nothing, but it provided a place to start looking.

  The further he looked into this case, the less sense it made. Who could have wanted to murder an innocent kid? Why bring him all the way out here? What had happened to the boy’s car?

  Looking around, Mason saw nothing nearby, save for a couple of bushes. Mason wasn’t quite prepared to go rooting through them just yet. At least, not until he saw something glisten in the sunlight. He reached an arm into the thorns and pulled out the shiny object. It was the zipper of a Star Wars wallet.

  Please be Johnny’s. Mason fingered through it, looking at the ID cards, and his breath caught in his throat as he read the name on the driver’s licence: Jonathon Walker.

  ‘Thank God,’ he muttered under his breath. He pulled out a stash of business cards, flipping them away as he read each one. There was nothing of interest until he reached the last one. It was pink, distinctive, and had a drawn silhouette of a woman lying by the fire.

  PRICELESS BEAUTIES

  THE ONLY PLACE FOR MASSAGES AND MORE.

  It had an address, and Mason intended to use it. He stashed the card into his coat pocket and took the money from the wallet. It was only fifty dollars, but that wasn’t the point. If anybody else stumbled upon it, he wanted it to look like a simple theft. The last thing he needed was the police9asking why he was looking into the case.

  With a quick wipe off to get rid of the prints, Mason tossed the wallet back into the bush and went back to the car. At least now he had somewhere to check out.

  14

  Melanie awoke, unable to move.

  Where am I?

  The last thing she remembered was leaving Bryan at home and heading out. Where had she been heading? Food shopping? No. It was more betraying than that. It was…

  The light shone brightly above, nearly blinding her. Melanie wanted to move, even tried, but her body was too weak. There was just enough energy to tilt her head, and she regretted it as soon as she did.

  Her wrists were bound to either side of her, and her naked body lay sprawled across a wooden table. Her legs were apart, her pubic hair on display, her breasts falling to her sides in humiliating rebellion.

  She wanted to scream, to cry out. But as the haziness filtered out with the slow progress of waking up, she realised that her tongue was dry, her jaw aching. Something was inside her mouth and it left little room for breathing.

  The door creaked open, and a woman came in. Melanie recognised the red hair, and suddenly recalled what had happened last night. Up to a certain point, at least. She had gone out looking for a woman, and she had found this one. Lady, she had introduced herself as, and she acted like one too. She was soft, kind, not pressuring at all. What happened after that? Melanie had no idea.

  Lady crossed the room and smiled. ‘Morning, sweetie. I didn’t expect you to be awake for this. Would you like another sedative?’

  Melanie squirmed under her bounds, making muffled noises through the gag.

  ‘That’s okay. I’ve run out of the stuff anyway.’ She picked up a tool from the side table. It was plugged into the power outlet and looked like something a professional would use. The only question was: a professional what?

  As she switched it on, it began to make a vibrating noise, almost like hair clippers. It was then that Melanie realised what it was – a tattoo gun.

  She’d had two done before. Only small ones, though. A petal on her ankle and a butterfly on her shoulder blade. Somehow, she had an idea that this would be more extensive.

  ‘Oh, hold still,’ Lady said, towering over her bare and vulnerable body. ‘It’s just a damn tattoo. It won’t hurt, I promise.’

  Melanie settled down, although she was unable to stop shaking. What was this crazy woman doing? What would she tattoo to her body? Whatever it was, she didn’t want it. Perhaps she could get it removed when she got out of here.

  If she got out of here.

  15

  Priceless Beauties was a humble little store on a vacant street. From the outside, it looked like a respectable place for men and women of all ages to go for a professional massage. But as Mason walked inside, he got the feeling that it leaned more towards male clientele.

  Pictures of stunning young women lined the walls, most of whom were exposed in one way or another. There were sale displays with sex toys, subtly labelled as massagers. There was a smell, too – something sweaty but masked with summer fruits. It was how he imagined a girls’ locker room to smell.

  A bead of curtains shifted behind the desk, rattling behind a blonde-haired woman who was dressed for business. She was pretty, too, in a slutty kind of way. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked suspiciously.

  Mason, starting to understand that he simply looked like a cop, approached the desk. He chose not to flash his badge. It wouldn’t benefit him for this woman to hide her true business. ‘I�
�m looking for a woman who might work here. Goes by the name of Lady Luck.’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Nobody here by that name, sir. But we can find you somebody similar if you tell me your preferences.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m not here for pleasure.’ Hopefully, that was as much as he would need to tell her. ‘Is there anywhere else around here that conducts business like this? It’s important that I find her.’

  ‘People come from all over the place. This is San Francisco. If you can’t find somebody to give you a massage, then you’re looking in all the wrong places.’

  ‘And if somebody did come here?’ Mason held out the driver’s licence of Johnny Walker. ‘Might he have come here two days ago, looking for a… massage?’

  The woman sighed, flipped open a ledger, and hummed a pleasant tune while scanning through it with her finger. ‘Two nights ago… Nope, we were all booked up, and there was nobody by that name.’

  Mason wondered if Johnny had used another name to save from embarrassment, but there was no way to tell. ‘Maybe you can help me with this, then.’ He took the business card from his pocket and slid it across the counter. ‘Where do you distribute these?’

  The woman picked it up, looked it over briefly and handed it back. ‘I don’t. This is the only place you’ll find them, unless a friend gave it to you.’ She leaned forward, all too obvious in trying to show her cleavage.

  Goddamnit. He was hoping she wouldn’t have said that. It was beginning to look as though he would have to talk to Johnny Walker’s parents. Not only would that be hard to talk them into, but there was always the risk that they would contact the police. Mason wondered how interested the police would be to learn that he was looking into his own case.

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t be more help,’ said the woman, leaning further over the counter to encourage some extra attention ‘Are you sure I can’t interest you in a massage?’

  Mason caught a very brief image of Diane flicking through his mind. What is that about? It wasn’t important right now. He shook it off, handing over his own business card. He’d gotten all he wanted, so there was no reason to continue hiding that he was a private investigator. ‘Thanks for your time. Be sure to call me if you think of anything that may be helpful.’