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

by Adam Nicholls

  ‘But–’

  ‘No, you listen.’ She looked directly into his eyes. ‘I’m not going to flee just because some sicko has his sights on you. If he wants to get to you, he’s going to have to go through all of us. We’re family, Mason, whether you like it or not.’

  Mason had the brief flicker of an image; him living here permanently, watching Amy go off to college, redecorating the house together. It was a normal life. Everything he had ever wanted.

  ‘And you know what else?’ Diane continued.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think you should take this bastard down.’

  You and me both. Mason pulled away and went for the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I have to warn Evie.’

  ‘No, Mason–’

  ‘She has a right to know. Even if she hates me for it.’ He opened up the door and took one step outside before he was stopped in his tracks.

  ‘Wait. You don’t understand!’

  Mason turned. ‘What?’

  ‘She’s gone.’

  Heart pounding, sweat rushing to his forehead, Mason struggled to stay standing. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Evie called me this morning from the airport. She said she’s heading to New York to make something better of herself, and asked that I pass on the message to you.’

  Mason fought to find his words. He’d known that a change of location was on the cards, but had never suspected it would be this soon. ‘She… didn’t even say goodbye to me.’

  Diane shook her head, lowering her eyes to the floor. ‘I’m sorry.’

  33

  Anarchy was more than pleased with what he had just done. It was somewhere between the setup and the execution that always satisfied him, and right now, he was riding the fence between the two.

  Shooting a very brief but very thorough look over his shoulder, he crossed the road and continued down the street, where he could watch from a safe distance. Of course, there was always a chance that things would go sideways, but even that had its uses. At the end of the day, any of the possible outcomes caused an exciting amount of chaos.

  ‘Here, kids,’ he said, stealing the attention of two boys who had been playing ball in the street. ‘You want to see something amazing?’

  The tall, redheaded one looked at his Hispanic little friend, who shrugged. They were both about eight years old, give or take a year or two. ‘We’re not allowed to talk to strangers,’ the ginger white boy finally said.

  ‘Ahhh, good for you, son.’ Anarchy flipped a cigarette into his mouth, sparked up his lighter in one swift movement and let the flame kiss the end. ‘However,’ he muffled, ‘you don’t need to talk to me. Do you have a cell phone?’

  ‘Maybe. But you can’t use it.’

  The Hispanic boy looked nervously around at the empty street.

  ‘I don’t want to.’ Anarchy wriggled his finger. ‘Use the video recorder on that building over there.’ While the boy hesitantly carried out his orders, Anarchy sat on the curb and enjoyed his cigarette, sucking up puffs of delightful grey smoke and breathing it out slowly through his nose.

  This should be good fun. And the thought that these kids would be exposed to it was all the more thrilling. Good, good fun.

  34

  He was already missing Evie, but what could he do about it? Call her and whine – cloud her mind with even more drama than she had already suffered? No, Mason wouldn’t put her though that. All he could do was wait it out and hope she found a way to become her usual self.

  On the bright side, his schedule had now freed up a little. As he didn’t feel too much like working, at least he could write that relationship off as “on hold” and concentrate on the next case. And although Lucy Healy had been found, he was all the more determined to find Anarchy. With that very intention, Mason stopped the car and stomped toward his office.

  Wait.

  The door, which he was sure he had locked, was now busted open. The brass lock hanging from the wood looked like it had given up. Mason drew his revolver and cautiously stepped inside.

  ‘Hello?’ he called to the dark and (hopefully) vacant room. ‘I don’t want any surprises, so if you’re in there and don’t announce yourself now, I will shoot you.’

  He was met with nothing but silence. It made him feel silly, really, talking to an empty room. He stowed the gun away, flicked on the lights and checked each room just in case. Satisfied with the isolation, but pissed off and worried about the broken lock, he sat at his desk and went over what few notes he had on Anarchy.

  You elusive bastard. I’m going to get you. I will get you.

  Seventeen pages of similar murder cases later, Mason was at a loss. There was nothing that really linked him to any previous killings. Even if the guy was from San Francisco, who was to say he had even used the name Anarchy before? What if it was new to him? Why start signing that name now?

  Outside, a sudden noise startled him. It was metal, crashing to the ground. Mason jumped out of his skin, immediately associating the sound with a falling trashcan. But he was on edge – the broken door had seen to that – so he instinctively reached for his gun.

  Carefully, he went to the back door. He counted to three and quickly pulled it open, aiming the gun at whoever might be on the other side.

  But there was nothing.

  Mason stepped outside and saw the trashcan rolling lifelessly over the ground. It smelled disgusting out here – a haven for cats, rats, and anything else that might carry a disease. Regardless of what had caused it, he picked it up and set it back in its rightful place.

  ‘Goddamn animals,’ he said, heading back inside.

  That was when he saw it: just inside the door, a wire pressed to the wall with tape. It ran up to the ceiling and into the main office room. ‘What the…’ Mason followed it through to where it disappeared behind a filing cabinet.

  Slowly, he pulled open the top drawer and heard a click.

  Everything after that seemed to happen in an instant.

  The drawer was heavier than usual, and inside was a large black box. Dials and buttons lay across the top, and a digital timer showed off an old-fashioned LED. Most noticeably, however, was the countdown from ten that flashed before him.

  Shit.

  It was instinctual for him, but Mason ran. As fast as his legs could carry him, he made his way back outside. He was barely out the door when he felt the blast of air on his back, crushing his insides. It felt like his spine was on fire as he was propelled across the back yard, landing atop a dumpster. It seemed to be only after that, that he heard the explosion.

  Everything stung, ached and burned. His vision was blurry, his energy vanished. Mason was now nothing more than a large pile of pain. And as his eyes began to close, all he could think was the one word that stood out… Anarchy.

  35

  Diane rushed into the hospital, escorting Amy protectively through the crowd of reporters. Somehow, they had gotten wind of the fact that Mason had been attacked by Anarchy, and it was all she could hear about as they made their way past.

  They’re monsters. The lot of them.

  When they got through to the waiting room, they found an empty row of seats, and Diane encouraged Amy to lay down. It had been a long day for the both of them, but somebody had to be up for when Mason came around.

  As time went on and the reporters became more and more impatient, Diane checked her watch. It was getting late now – they had already been here for six hours, and there hadn’t been a single word about Mason.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Diane said, grabbing gently at the arm of a nurse who was passing by.

  The nurse looked young but confident, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail with dazzling blue eyes. ‘You okay?’

  Amy snored gently, adjusting her position across the uncomfortable chairs.

  ‘We’re here for Mason Black. Has there been any word on his progress?’ Diane shouted over the journalists, looking over at them with ire.<
br />
  ‘He’s awake.’

  Diane let out a breath of relief.

  ‘But you can’t go in there yet,’ the nurse continued. ‘He’s with one of the doctors at the moment. But he’s going to be fine. In the mean time…’ She stormed over to the press crowd and raised her voice. ‘I’m going to have to ask you all to leave immediately! You’re disrupting the patients.’

  ‘We have a right to know what happened,’ one of the older ones complained.

  ‘Then you can wait in the parking lot until that time comes.’

  As they began to shuffle out, some of them groaning louder than the others, the nurse turned and winked at Diane before disappearing behind the counter and into a small office.

  ‘She was nice,’ Amy mumbled.

  ‘I didn’t know you were awake.’ It was quieter in here now, and a lot easier to relax. But Diane still felt a surge of nervousness flowing through her, and there seemed to be no way of calming herself.

  ‘Only a little.’

  ‘Then go back to sleep.’

  ‘You too.’ Amy rolled over and began to snooze.

  It seemed impossible, but Diane saw no harm in trying. She let her head fall over the back of the chair and slipped in and out of sleep for the next couple of hours. When she finally awoke, the hospital seemed vacant.

  Careful not to wake Amy, she got up and went to the reception desk, but nobody was in sight. Diane stood looking up and down the corridor, when a doctor with a face-mask came out of one of the rooms and walked her way.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, stepping into his path. ‘Where can I find–’

  To her surprise, the doctor barged past, knocking her over and almost sending her tumbling to the floor.

  ‘What the hell?’ she yelled.

  Before she knew it, the doctor had vanished around the corner, walking so fast that it seemed he knew how much Diane wanted to scream at him.

  I need to find a doctor, she thought, and started to wander the hospital.

  36

  Mason’s eyes fluttered open slowly, but he felt weak and lifeless.

  ‘Wake up, sleepyhead,’ the voice came from his side.

  Am I in the hospital? The beeping sound of the machine beside him suggested as much, and the man in front of him wore hospital scrubs. It was just as well, really – his back was causing him so much pain, and his ribs felt like they had been trampled in a stampede. The pain in his leg was something else entirely.

  ‘I really didn’t think you were going to survive,’ said the doctor. ‘But I’m glad you did. You see, I find you rather interesting.’

  Mason tried hard to focus on the doctor, but his vision was blurred. It was like looking through bubbling water. ‘What… Who are you?’

  ‘You don’t recognise my voice?’

  Of course he did – he just didn’t want to believe it. He was even hoping that this was some kind of dream, but it didn’t seem so. At some point he would have to face facts: he was in a room alone with Anarchy, and he was unable to defend himself.

  ‘Hmm. Not very talkative.’ Anarchy stood and paced the room. ‘You’re very lucky, you know. Even from across the street, I saw your body flung toward that dumpster. You looked like a ragdoll, despite your size.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Mason wheezed.

  Anarchy returned to his side, pulling the mask over his mouth. Only his piercing eyes were visible now. ‘What do I want? Why, I want to compliment you, of course! You see,’ he leaned onto Mason’s chest, elbows digging into his ribs and making him groan, ‘you give me purpose. I’ve hidden from you, shot at you, even planted a bomb in your office. But somehow, you’re still here.’

  ‘You’re twisted.’ Mason winced.

  ‘Mmhmm. Well, if you’re going to be rude about it.’ Anarchy pushed down harder.

  It felt like Mason’s chest was about to crush in on him, impaling his heart on a broken rib. He tensed up, but refused to give this man the satisfaction of hearing him beg.

  ‘I could kill you right now.’ Anarchy stood up straight, letting him go. ‘But I won’t. The thing is, buddy, everyone I meet is weak, vulnerable, impulsive and so, so selfish. You, on the other hand… I don’t know. There’s something about you. You’re goddamn unbreakable!’

  Mason strained to look around him, searching for a button to call a nurse.

  ‘Give up. I disconnected it.’ Anarchy walked around the bed to Mason’s other side. ‘You may not know it yet, but you’re perfect – loyal, determined, caring of people. I just wonder what your downfall is. Or maybe that is your downfall? Either way,’ he rolled down his sleeves and stepped back toward the door, ‘I intend to test your durability. Good luck.’

  As the door swung open, Mason opened his mouth to protest, but his body betrayed him. Instead, he was left grinding his teeth at the immense pain.

  But then something else caught his eye.

  As Anarchy was leaving with his disguise, he passed right by Diane, shoving her aside. The door closed then, leaving him in silent darkness, making Mason worry for himself and his family.

  “I intend to test your durability,” the maniac had said, leaving Mason to wonder exactly what he meant, and just how frightened he should be.

  37

  It was four days before they let him leave the hospital under supervised care. Battered and bruised, they’d pleaded him to take it easy. Unfortunately, Mason didn’t see that as an option.

  With Diane helping him up the steps to her house, and Bill under his left arm offering support, he began to feel what tremendous pain he had been left in. Really, he was lucky to be alive, but he didn’t feel it.

  ‘I have something to tell you,’ Bill said, stopping him at the top of the steps.

  Mason rested against the wall, with Diane’s loving arms around him. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t want you to get all Robocop on me. Promise.’

  ‘Just tell me.’

  Bill sighed. ‘We put that video footage on TV and soon had a phone call, someone saying they know who Anarchy is.’

  Mason’s pulse quickened. ‘And? What’s been done about it?’

  ‘Nothing at all. It’s odd; the police are treating it like a hoax.’

  ‘That’s insane. Why?’

  ‘You tell me.’ Bill scratched his neck, raising his chin in the air. ‘The call came from Arizona. We’ve contacted the police up there, but even they don’t seem interested. “Not my problem,” one of them said. Can you believe that?’

  Mason stared hard at the ground, deep in thought. Could he make the drive himself? It was a long way, and his leg wasn’t in its best condition. ‘I’ll look into it.’

  ‘No.’ Bill stood up straight. ‘No, you won’t. Diane, tell him not to.’

  Diane just smiled, her perfect white teeth on show. ‘You think he listens to me?’

  ‘I just thought you should know,’ Bill went on. ‘But for the love of God, be careful.’ He hurried down the steps and into his car, driving off without another word.

  ‘Come on.’ Diane saw Mason inside, easing him onto the couch.

  It felt good to be back, but Mason couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were all unsafe. He put it down to insecurity, however, and tried his best to relax. That was, as much as somebody could relax after surviving an explosion and a death threat.

  ‘What will you do without an office?’ Diane asked, sitting beside him.

  Mason shrugged. ‘It wasn’t as useful as you’d think. I’ll just make a claim on the insurance and start fresh.’

  ‘Can you afford it?’

  ‘I can’t afford not to. I need money, which means I need work. All I know for sure is that I won’t be able to focus until Anarchy is stopped.’

  Diane was quiet then, as she usually was when she was assessing her options. Mason had always known her to be supportive, even if she disagreed with the situation. ‘Do you want me to drive you to Arizona?’

  Mason shook his head. ‘I’ll take a bus. You stay
put and make sure Amy is safe.’

  For the rest of the day, they ate, rested and further discussed the idea of them living together. It was beginning to make a little more sense, but by morning was still left undecided. After all, Mason had bigger things on his mind, and it would all start in Arizona.

  38

  He had left early in the morning, after exchanging grumpy words with Bill. Mason had the address of the Arizona contact now, and had begged that Bill keep an eye on Diane while he was out of town. Thankfully, he eventually agreed.

  Stiff and cramped, Mason finally got off the bus and took a long-distance cab to the provided address. He wasn’t really sure what to expect, but he was pleasantly surprised to be greeted at the door by a kind elderly lady.

  ‘A private investigation?’ At first she seemed worried, creasing up her already wrinkled forehead. When Mason explained the situation to her, she was very grateful to be taken seriously. ‘Come on in, dear.’

  ‘Actually,’ Mason said, pressing his hands into the small of his back, ‘would it be too much trouble to walk? I’ve been sitting still for fourteen hours and need to stretch my legs a bit.’

  Although hunched and frail, the old lady – sweet Margaret Chambers – accepted, taking her cane and pulling the door closed behind her. She took Mason’s arm for support, and looked extremely short beside him.

  ‘So, tell me about your phone call to the police,’ Mason said, after rounding a couple of corners and engaging in some small talk.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘There were many?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Margaret said, sounding surprised that he hadn’t already known. ‘I tried our own police a lot, and even called the TV show that gave the mugshot. You know, those hotline numbers that ask for help.’

  Mason screwed up his face. ‘I wasn’t aware that Anarchy had a mugshot.’

  ‘It was a police sketch, given by that poor young girl who escaped.’