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

by Adam Nicholls

  It was only as he turned that he saw up above, on the top of a set of metal steps. There was an old green door with its paint peeling off. Across the top half, in brilliant-white spray paint, were his initials. It seemed all too much of a coincidence.

  Mason was on the clock now, heading up the steps as fast as his badly injured legs would carry him. As soon as he reached the top, he barely touched the door and it swung open with a long and welcoming screech.

  He was on his guard. The room inside was pitch black. Mason reached an arm to the inside wall, feeling for a light switch. He found it and the lights came on, showing that the room was almost completely empty. The only object of note was the rotting wooden table in the centre, with a battered old telephone sitting upon it.

  ‘Hello?’ he called, feeling stupid. It wasn’t like anybody would jump out at him to introduce themselves.

  Holding his breath, Mason stepped inside. The very second his foot hit the floor, the phone began to ring. It was an old ringer, like it had been pulled right out of the early nineties. Before cell phones. Before Guns ‘n’ Roses ringtones.

  Mason was beginning to sweat. He cautiously stepped forward and reached for the phone. He half expected a bomb to explode at the instant the receiver was lifted, but thankfully, no such thing happened. He put it to his ear.

  ‘I’m so glad you figured it out, Mason.’ It was a woman’s voice, firm and seductive. ‘I was beginning to think that I would have to kill the girl.’

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘You know who I am.’

  ‘No, I don’t. And I’m done playing your game. Tell me who you are or this ends now.’

  The woman laughed.

  Mason heard sirens outside, the police pulling up. It was a trap. He had been led here and, stupidly, he’d followed. ‘Who are you?’ He was sure that he knew, but wanted to hear it from her own lips.

  ‘You really don’t know?’ She laughed again. ‘My name…’

  Footsteps padded up the metal stairs outside. Mason’s pulse quickened.

  The woman recovered from her hysterical giggle and spat down the phone: ‘My name is Alison Wendell, and you murdered my brother.’

  46

  Evie awoke to the sounds of screaming – loud, fearful shrieks.

  Where am I?

  The last thing she remembered was walking along a bright street, Mason watching her from a distance as she scouted for a killer. But what had she found instead? There was a very brief flashing in her mind, an alleyway. Dark, quiet… What had happened after that?

  She sat up, immediately noticing the thinness of the air. Somehow, it felt dry and damp at the same time. Her breathing was restricted. Her bare arms raised up pale goosebumps, and she wrapped her arms across her chest.

  ‘Let me go!’ the screaming came again from the next room. It was followed by a heavy thunk, and then silence.

  Shaking, Evie walked around the confines of her small cell. Three sides of the room were mere walls, but the fourth was a wooden gate. Maybe I could cut through that. She reached for her house keys – a bad tool but a tool nonetheless – but they were gone. Checking her pockets, she realised that she was still dressed as a hooker. The night’s events were coming back little by little.

  Bankrupt of all energy, she fell to her backside and rested her head in the dirt, gazing out at the cell door. She recalled heading into that alley, and then coming out on the other side. Then what? Evie closed her eyes, thought hard and…

  A man.

  Yes, a man had been there, holding her tight with his sweaty palm clasped over her mouth. She could remember the sour taste as if it were still on her tongue. Putrid, acidic. And then a woman… Lady Luck.

  Her thoughts were disturbed by a gunshot. It echoed through the halls, bouncing off every wall. A small sprinkle of dirt rained from the ceiling. Evie focused on that, soon coming to understand that the walls were made up entirely of dirt.

  That gave her an idea.

  She pushed herself onto her knees and crawled to the cell door. As quickly as she could, she dug her fingers into the dirt and shovelled it towards her. I can get under, she thought, tiredly digging away.

  Evie continued as fast as she could while wondering who had suffered the gunshot only moments ago. There was also a worrying question circling her mind: Am I next?

  47

  Alison Wendell. It made perfect sense now, and she had set a trap for him.

  When he had seen it in Marvin Wendell’s report that he’d had a sister, Mason had only considered it a possibility that she may have had some involvement. He’d already set about figuring out how to track her down. But now he understood the shocking fact: Alison Wendell and Lady Luck were one and the same.

  The sirens had stopped but the shouting hadn’t. They were outside now, their footfalls clanging up the metal staircase. Mason, entirely out of ideas, resorted to all he could do. He quickly stood behind the door.

  The first officer walked in, his firearm held out in front of him. As soon as he was entirely in the room, Mason grabbed him from behind and kicked the door shut. It gave him just enough time to wrestle the gun from the officer and wrap an arm around his neck.

  The door swung open again, and three more officers stood in shock at the sight of Mason holding an officer at gunpoint.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mason said meaningfully, ‘but I have to do this before I come in.’

  ‘Let him go, Mr Black.’ The officer’s voice was deep and commanding. It was obvious that he was no rookie.

  ‘I just can’t.’ Mason moved back towards the other door, praying that it wasn’t locked. Doing it fast so as not to lose his advantage, he tried the handle and, luckily, it popped open. ‘Don’t follow me.’

  He closed the door behind him, saw the key in the keyhole, and turned it. This room was completely closed off. Mason had shut himself in.

  Goddamnit.

  ‘You won’t get out of here.’ The officer wept like a coward, clawing at his arm for some breathing space. ‘They’ll call for backup and catch you. They always catch the killers.’

  Mason let him go and held the gun at him. ‘I know. I’ll turn myself in when I find the proof that it wasn’t me. You just make sure you tell them that.’

  ‘Tell them yourself.’

  But Mason didn’t listen. Instead, he was focused on the fire escape on the other side of the glass. With his one free hand, he tried the window. It slid open, and he put one foot outside. ‘Come here.’

  The officer hesitated before stepping forward.

  Mason reached around the man’s belt and took his handcuffs. ‘Cuff yourself to the curtain rail.’

  ‘What–’

  ‘Just do it.’

  The officer was moving too slow. There was a banging on the door, and it was thumping forward under the force. It wouldn’t be long now before they breached the room, and he would be entirely surrounded. What would happen to Evie was anyone’s guess.

  ‘Good.’ Mason climbed out to the fire escape, the officer’s cuffed body causing an obstruction for anybody trying to follow. It might not take his colleagues long to get him free, but a few valuable seconds could be the difference between freedom and being gunned down.

  Kicking the ladder free, Mason climbed down as fast as possible. It was difficult with a gun in one hand. Above him, he heard the officer yelling and the door bursting open.

  ‘We have a visual!’

  They were stepping out onto the fire escape. Mason was nearly at the bottom, and he needed to delay them for just a few seconds more. He fired a warning shot, hearing the bullet pang against the metal. The policemen dove back inside.

  With just enough room ahead of him, he darted out onto the street, sweating profusely and ignoring the pain in his leg. If he stopped to take care of his wounds, he would be caught for sure.

  Mason was just coming to the road when a black Volvo pulled up in front of him, screeching to a halt. It almost ran over his foot, crushing the bone. He was about t
o run, to fire wildly and give himself a slim chance of escape, when the driver leaned forward and opened the passenger side door.

  ‘Get in.’ It was Diane, and whether she’d wanted to be or not, she was now an accomplice to his escape.

  48

  ‘Drive casually,’ said Mason as he reclined in his seat. ‘I don’t think they saw me get in, so there’s no need to draw attention to yourself.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Diane was awfully calm.

  He looked up at her, watching her lean into the wheel as she steered. She looked like a squirrel protectively guarding a nut. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and meant it.

  ‘Evie’s my friend, too, you know. I want her safe just as much as you do. I just wish I could have come sooner.’ She glanced at his bloody leg. ‘We’ll need to go somewhere and patch you up. Any ideas where?’

  ‘What’s wrong with your place?’

  ‘My sister.’ She shook her head. ‘Turned up unannounced. She had a fallout with her boyfriend and wants to stay a few days.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Mason knew of only one safe place. The problem was, he didn’t know how long it would be safe for. ‘You know where Evie lives?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘We’ll need to hide the car a few blocks away and walk the rest.’

  As instructed, she stopped in the parking lot of a swimming pool and gymnasium. Her sister – who she had borrowed the car from in the first place – would receive a fine or two, but it was a necessary price to pay. With Mason leaning on Diane for support, they took the quietest roads over to Evie’s apartment, felt above the doorframe for the hidden key, and let themselves in.

  ‘Listen,’ Mason said, as Diane walked around the apartment for some first aid materials. ‘If anybody comes to the door, you might have to answer it, say that Evie is out of town for a family emergency.’

  Diane returned with a damp flannel, some disinfectant, and a roll of gauze. ‘You think it will come to that?’

  ‘She’s employed now. Her co-workers might be wondering where she is.’

  ‘Sure.’ She began to patch him up, her delicate hands working softly and with care.

  Mason watched her do her thing, entirely trusting this wonderful woman. He thought about the other night’s kiss, and wondered if there might be some kind of normal life for them after this. ‘I’m sorry about your sister’s car.’

  ‘Ah,’ she waved a hand, ‘don’t worry about it. She’ll understand.’ She threaded through the skin, forging some homemade stitches as if in perfect routine. ‘So, what happens next?’

  ‘Honestly?’ Mason said, looking up at her. ‘I have no idea.’

  49

  Evie had made it out – out of her cell, at least.

  It wasn’t until she had laid on her belly and wriggled under the gate that she finally understood where she was. Given the structure of the beams and the tightly packed dirt along the walls, she could only be underground. Under what, exactly, was another question entirely.

  There were two different directions; to her right, where a soft ember flickered up the wall with a shadow passing every few seconds, or straight ahead, where there was a much longer tunnel. This one had a light also, but it was farther away and at least there were no signs of life. It was, without a doubt, the safer of the two.

  Her filthy arms still across her cold chest, Evie walked on quietly, until she came to an open area with a table to her right. Around the table, three women – who looked as though they had been here for some time, as suggested by their thin arms and gaunt faces – sat in a perfect circle. In the centre of the table, a revolver.

  There was a little girl, too, but she had her head down. Her face rolled to one side, her eyes cold and lifeless – Evie soon realised that she was dead – and her arm was stretched towards the gun. Either she had been going for it and was punished, or she had just used it.

  When the women spotted her, Evie brought a finger to her lips. A signal to shush.

  One of the women began to sob under her breath. Her breathing became louder and faster, until she was crying out loud.

  ‘No, no. Quiet. Shush.’ Evie stumbled forward and put a hand over the woman’s lips. The truth was, Evie wanted to cry too. She had no idea where she was, or how to get out. Was Mason looking for her? ‘I’m going to take my hand away, but you need to be quiet. If I can get out of here, I’ll send for help. You’re going to be okay.’ She looked at all the faces around the table, except for the dead girl’s. ‘You’re all going to be okay.’

  Slowly, she moved her hand and headed towards the only set of steps. Even her slender frame blocked out the flickering candlelight coming from behind her. Evie put one foot on the bottom step, and it creaked loudly under her.

  Shit.

  There was always the option of risking a sprint. But if she got to the top and couldn’t open the trapdoor, then she would be alerting Lady to her presence for no good reason at all. As carefully as she could, she moved up to the second step, which creaked just as badly.

  ‘No!’ the sobbing woman called out, likely to get them all caught.

  Evie turned towards the noise, readying herself to give the signal for silence once more. But as she turned, all she saw was the lightning-fast image of something metallic coming her way, like a deadly staff. It dug into her stomach as the woman holding it clutched firmly, prodding it into Evie. Her muscles tightened as the spark ran through her, leaving her cold and shaky.

  ‘Nice try,’ said the woman. The light caught the side of her face, and from a curled-up position on the ground, Evie could see that it was Lady Luck – the woman from the alley. ‘Now, back you go.’

  50

  A knock on the door. Mason and Diane froze.

  ‘What do we do?’ Diane asked in a hushed whisper.

  ‘Answer it. If it’s the police, invite them in.’ Mason picked up the gun from the table and put his back to the wall next to the door. He held it at head-level with an outstretched arm. He wouldn’t pull the trigger, but most people would do anything when looking at the wrong end of a gun.

  Diane opened the door.

  ‘Police, ma’am,’ the man said. ‘I’m looking for Mason Black. Is he around?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Diane said in a surprisingly believable tone. ‘He’s just in the kitchen, come on in.’ She walked away before the policeman had a chance to decline.

  He walked in the door, and as soon as his head came into view, Mason lunged forward and pressed the lip of the gun to his head. ‘Don’t move.’ He peered around the doorframe to see if he had come alone. He had. ‘Put your hands up and turn around slowly.’

  Diane came back into the room and raised her hands to cup her mouth. ‘Oh my God…’

  The policeman turned around, revealing his face gradually. His mouth hung open in surprise. ‘Mason? What the…’ He put his hand on the gun and lowered it. ‘Jesus Christ!’

  ‘Bill.’ Mason breathed a sigh of relief, the slightest of smiles escaping the corner of his mouth. ‘Perhaps state your name, next time.’ He closed the door and ushered him in, sitting him down and looking at Diane. She looked sweetly confused. ‘It’s all right, Bill’s a friend.’

  Diane came to sit with them. ‘I’m sorry I almost got you in trouble.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Bill grinned falsely.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Mason asked.

  ‘I came here looking for you, actually. Imagine my surprise when a young woman opened the door.’ He cracked his knuckles. ‘You’re in a lot of trouble, you know. The cops are looking everywhere for you. Resisting arrest… Don’t you think this has gone a little too far?’

  Of course he did. Mason knew better than most that he was pushing his luck. ‘Evie,’ he said simply. ‘I won’t let her down.’

  ‘I know.’ Bill stared down at the carpet.

  ‘How are those cops doing?’

  ‘Which ones?’

  ‘The ones from the crash. They arrested me and–’

  ‘Ah, yeah.’ Bill
waved his hand. ‘They’re fine. Very grateful, in fact. But that means nothing while the case remains unsolved. All fingers point to you.’

  ‘I’m working on it, believe me.’

  ‘He really is,’ Diane said helpfully, before excusing herself from the room.

  Bill looked over his shoulder. As soon as they were alone, he leaned in and began to whisper. ‘There’s been a break in the case. We found strands of hair in the SUV at the tracks. The team ran a DNA search and found that it belongs to–’

  ‘Let me guess – Alison Wendell.’

  ‘How did you–’

  ‘Like I said, I’ve been busy. So, does this put me in the clear?’

  ‘Not even close. Cox is refusing to confirm that this is the same killer. She’s really got you in her crosshairs, you know.’

  Mason sighed. ‘Never a dull moment. What’s the word on Wendell?’

  ‘Everything builds up to her criminal record. Sent to an orphanage at an early age after stabbing some kid in school. Then a few overnighters when she came of age. A couple of aggravated assaults here and there. She’s unstable, Mason.’

  Mason slumped back in the chair, rubbing his eyes. ‘Wow. So, then… you’ll have an address on record?’

  Bill shook his head. ‘We checked it out. She moved a long time ago and the trail ends there. But we’ve been canvassing the street she lived on, and three different people have said she runs a massage business.’

  Mason shot forward, suspicious. ‘Did you get a name of the business?’

  ‘Nobody knew. Her neighbour said it began with P, but that was all she remembered.’

  Priceless Beauties, thought Mason. When he had visited before, he had spoken to a woman. Was she the manager or the owner? Was it Lady Luck herself? His heart was thumping wickedly against his ribs. It felt like it was about to explode.

  He stood, wincing at the hot pain in his foot, and grabbed his trench coat. ‘I have to go out for a while. I think I know the place.’