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

by Adam Nicholls

It must have happened when I was in the hospital. But why wasn’t I told? ‘I see. And they didn’t want to take your information.’

  Margaret stopped for breath, balanced on her cane, then carried on, still latched on to Mason. ‘They took my information but never got back to me. So then I tried the San Francisco police, knowing that there was an active investigation.’

  ‘And even they didn’t pay attention?’

  Margaret shrugged. ‘That’s the downside of being old; people think you’re just a bored, crazy lady with nothing better to do.’

  They reached a park, and Mason helped lower her gently onto the bench. If only somebody were here to help me and my pain, he thought, amusing himself. ‘Please, tell me what you know. Anything you have to offer could help a lot.’

  Margaret tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear and watched the boys playing soccer across the grass. ‘I hate to turn in my own family, Mr Black, but Anarchy is my nephew.’

  Mason’s heart was pounding. ‘Your nephew?’

  ‘Yes.’ She looked down at her hands, as if shame had seized her. ‘I could spot that face from a thousand yards, even with these old eyes. His name is Shaun Chambers.’

  ‘Do you still have contact with him?’

  ‘Not since he was younger. After his parents died, he stayed with me for a few months. One day, I woke up to make him breakfast, but he and his clothes were gone. I never saw him again after that.’

  Mason felt as though he had struck gold. With an ID on Anarchy, avenues of information had opened up, and any singular detail could drastically help to bring him down. ‘You said about his parents?’

  ‘Yes, my sister and her husband. They were good people.’

  ‘How did they die, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘Their house burned down. Shaun was inside, too, but he made it out of there alive.’

  ‘Do you think he blamed himself?’

  Margaret shuffled in her seat and turned her face up to Mason, meeting his eyes. ‘There’s a lot I don’t know about that boy, Mr Black. Everybody had their idea on what kind of person he was, however, and if you ask me…’

  Mason thought he knew what was coming, and steeled himself.

  ‘… I’d say that Shaun was the one who set that fire.’

  39

  From inside the stolen vehicle, Anarchy sat watching, stalking his prey.

  It was unlike him – he wasn’t used to being so methodical. As far as he was concerned, people who sat around scheming were only wasting time. Why bother, when one could just walk into a grocery store and wreak havoc with a gun? Wasn’t that what evoked the most natural human emotions – panic, fear and surprise?

  Having been there all day, he had watched Mason leave. Where he was going, Anarchy was unsure, but he stayed out of sight and took notes quietly in his notepad. Throughout the day, there wasn’t much coming and going. That was, with the exception of the detective, who was parked six cars ahead of him, watching over the family.

  If you think I’m stupid, you’ve got another thing coming.

  It wasn’t until later in the day that the nigger woman – probably Mason’s girlfriend or wife – headed out in her car. Anarchy wanted to tail her, to see where she might be going, but didn’t want to risk exposing himself. Rather, he sat and waited until she returned, and this time, a young girl climbed out of the car.

  Hello there. And who might you be?

  Anarchy made a note: Girl, mid-teens. Daughter?

  It was laughable really – such an indestructible man could have such vulnerabilities as a family. That, as he knew, was the soft spot of anybody’s heart, whether it be love or loathing. It was a shame that Mason had left himself open like that, really.

  It almost made him feel guilty for what he was about to do.

  Almost.

  40

  On the long and tedious bus home, there wasn’t much more to do than play with the settings on his cell phone. Mason had never been one for games – especially phone games – and so that wasn’t an option.

  To kill the time, he thought to send a text message to Evie. If he couldn’t say what he wanted to say in person, then he would do it over the phone instead. For minutes, he typed and deleted, retyped and deleted again. It was impossible to phrase, so he left it at only: I hope you’re well, sis. We miss you.

  After hitting send, Mason was about to put his phone away, when it started to ring. He recognised the number immediately and answered it with his heart in his throat.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Captain Leanne Cox said from the other end of the line. ‘Why so jumpy?’

  ‘You know why,’ Mason said, staring out of the window. They were passing through a run-down neighbourhood. It seemed like every wall had graffiti on it, and there were groups of kids looking like they wanted trouble.

  ‘Makes sense. Anyway, listen.’ Cox cleared her throat. ‘Can you get to the station at some point today? I need to speak with you quite urgently.’

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘I’d rather not say it over the phone.’

  Damn woman. ‘I guess I can make it over in a few hours.’

  ‘That’s great. I’m working late, so I’ll see you then.’

  Mason spent the rest of the journey worrying. What if something had happened back at home, but she’d been too kind to say it when he was so helpless? Had there maybe been a breakthrough in the Anarchy case? Had Internal Affairs finally pinned someone? Nothing was certain, save for the fact that he was shaking in his proverbial boots.

  When he did eventually get off the bus, as much as he wanted to just go home and check in on his family, Mason headed for the police station. He was unsure of what to expect from Cox, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good.

  He was escorted upstairs to her office and shown inside by a serious young officer.

  ‘Take a seat,’ Captain Cox said, removing her glasses and closing her laptop.

  ‘Want to tell me why I’m here?’ Still aching badly, Mason lowered himself into the uncomfortable plastic chair.

  ‘This is hard for me to say…’ She had never looked so uneasy.

  ‘Just dive in.’ Because I can’t handle the anticipation, you witch.

  ‘Fine.’ Cox stood and moved around the desk, leaning against it with her arms crossed. ‘We seem to be running into each other a lot, taking the same cases, helping each other out where needed.’

  ‘Let me guess – you want me to keep my distance.’

  ‘No.’ She lowered her head. ‘Actually, I wanted to know if you would consider taking your old job back. How would you like to be a detective again?’

  Mason was blown away. ‘What did… Why?’

  ‘You’re useful, to say the least. A lot of us miss having you around, and now that you’re without an office, I thought you might consider having a stable job. When you’re all healed up, that is.’

  It was an intriguing offer – it really was – but all he could think about was the feelings he’d experienced back when Sandra had divorced him for working too hard. If he were to do it all over again, would Diane feel the same way? He would feel more comfortable if he were to discuss this with her, anyway. They were, at the end of the day, a partnership. ‘I’m flattered, but can I think this one over? It’s a big decision and–’

  Captain Cox raised a hand. ‘Say no more. The offer’s there, and I just thought I would ask. Take as long as you need. I mean it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Mason stood and left the office with a storm of thoughts about what to do. He’d always advised himself to follow his gut, but it was impossible to figure out what exactly his gut was telling him over the noise of his other concerns.

  Detective Mason Black, he thought. He hadn’t realised he was smiling.

  41

  His head was full of questions. His body was ripe with pain. There was nothing he wanted more than to head home, put his head on a pillow and sleep for a year.

  But tha
t wouldn’t be happening.

  The lights were off when he got to Diane’s. At first, Mason thought it was strangely early for anybody to be in bed. And the odds of both Diane and Amy both being asleep were even slimmer. Mason poked his head out of the front door, making sure that Bill wasn’t still outside, keeping an eye on his family like he had promised he would do.

  Now he could panic.

  Flicking the closest light switch, Mason went for the phone and dialled Diane’s cell number. As it connected, he went from room to room, double-checking that he hadn’t just missed them the first time around. He was sure he was overreacting. He hoped so, anyway, but it didn’t seem like he was.

  Diane’s phone went straight to voicemail, and Mason hung up, cursing.

  Where are you?

  Amy’s number was the next to spring to mind as he checked the last room – Diane’s bedroom – and saw that it was empty. Something was definitely not right.

  ‘Hey, this is Amy–’ came the sweetest voice in the world.

  ‘Amy! It’s your dad. Can you–’

  ‘Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you…’

  Mason hung up, feeling both ridiculous and terrified.

  Goddamnit!

  He darted outside and, neglecting the pain in his back and legs, ran for his Mustang, which still sat proudly on the side of the road. He started up the engine and, with his free hand, dialled Bill’s phone.

  Come on, he thought as he drove into whatever direction his subconscious was taking him. Answer, you son of a bitch. I want to know if my family is safe.

  42

  The tyres screeched to a stop. The engine died within a second. Mason leaned toward the glove compartment for his revolver, and when he sat back up, was shocked by a figure standing beside the car.

  His instincts told him to drop to his back and aim the gun up, but when the person opened the door and peered inside, Mason felt a wave of relief. ‘Bill,’ he said, climbing out of the car and tucking the gun into his coat. ‘What the hell is going on? Where are my girls?’

  ‘Calm down, calm down.’ Bill waved a hand up toward Mason’s apartment. ‘They’re inside. Both of them. And they’re safe.’

  Mason strode toward the steps leading up to his home. In truth, he hadn’t really expected them to be here – it was a last-resort sort of thing. He had struck it lucky to find that they were all here, but he wouldn’t be at ease until he saw them. ‘Why is nobody answering their phones? Why are you here?’

  ‘The landline was cut at Diane’s place,’ Bill said, struggling to keep up. ‘When her cell went missing – Amy’s too – she thought that somebody was in the house.’

  ‘So you brought them here?’

  ‘It might have been a mistake… I don’t know. But they’re safe now, and that’s what matters.’

  As Mason climbed the last of the steps, he couldn’t help but wonder if somebody had truly been at Diane’s. If the line was severed, it was more than likely. But nobody attacked. Not even when he had been there himself.

  Stay away from my family, Anarchy.

  He threw the key into the lock and burst inside, where Diane and Amy both sat close to each other on the couch. They were startled at first, but as soon as they saw him, they both leapt to their feet and ran to him.

  ‘Ouch. Go easy on me,’ Mason said, their hugs feeling like punches on his battered body. ‘Is everybody okay? Are you hurt?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ said Diane.

  Bill stepped inside and closed the door, leaning on it like an overprotective bouncer.

  Mason, Diane and Amy all sat in the living area, going over what had happened.

  ‘It was more of a cautionary thing,’ Diane explained. ‘You know when a TV is left on in the house and you can just sense it from another room? It was like that, but I thought I could sense a person. I was probably just being silly, but when I went to the phone to call Bill, there was no tone.’

  Mason took her hand.

  ‘So I just grabbed Amy and got out of there as fast as I could.’

  ‘You did the right thing,’ Mason said, looking around the room. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings, and he spotted a box on the kitchen counter. ‘What’s that?’

  Amy turned, looking over her shoulder. ‘The package? That came for you earlier on.’

  Mason could feel the blood drain from his face.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ from Diane.

  ‘I didn’t order anything.’ Mason got up and cautiously walked over to it. He noticed immediately that there was no shipping address, no delivery stamp, and no labels. Only one thing written in marker across the top:

  FAO: MASON BLACK

  43

  It was cold out on the rooftop. The cold wind was harsh against his cheeks and the drizzle began at his neck. But he wouldn’t be here for long, now that he knew everything was going according to plan.

  Wherever Mason had been for the day, Anarchy had decided to stay put and study the man’s life. Anything he could dig up would be useful, and he would use it against him. That was the very thing that kept him so active in his mission of destruction.

  It seems like your care for people will be what breaks you, Mason, and I want you to know that I’m going to toy with that.

  Feeling more than a little pleased with himself, Anarchy put the binoculars away and packed his things into the duffel bag at his feet: roll-out mat, bottle of Jack Daniels (now nearly empty), and the shotgun he’d been carrying for the sake of carrying it.

  ‘You’ve been very useful,’ he said as he went for the door that led away from the rooftop. Anarchy stopped, turned and looked at the man on the floor, who was chained up, gagged and bloodied. ‘Don’t worry, the pain won’t last for long. And better yet, nobody has to watch you die. It’s quite…’ he took in a deep breath, like one does on a beautiful spring morning, ‘isolated up here. Ta-ta.’

  The heavy metal door swung shut behind him with a loud clang. Anarchy bounced down the stairs with the bag swung over his shoulder, heading toward his new safe house. Tomorrow would be the biggest day of his life, and he had to be ready.

  44

  Mason stared at the item inside the box, his gag reflex feeling overly sensitive.

  ‘Take Amy in the other room,’ he told Diane. ‘I don’t want her seeing this.’

  ‘Whatever it is, I’ve seen worse,’ Amy protested.

  ‘Amy.’

  ‘Fine. Going.’

  When the room was clear of all but him and Bill, Mason ripped off the last of the packaging. His emotions were set on an invisible line between furious and disgusted, and when the last of the torn cardboard dropped to the carpet, he took a step back.

  It was a human hand. The skin was still fresh and the blood was still wet. But what really took his attention was the thing that the lifeless fingers were still clutching.

  ‘What is it?’ Bill asked, covering his mouth to catch any reflex vomiting.

  ‘It’s a note.’ Mason slid it from between the fingers, unfolded it and read it aloud. ‘388 Brownlee Avenue, 7:30 a.m. Come alone, or people will die.’ His head began to spin, seized by a dizziness that nearly knocked him down. It was lucky that the footrest was behind him, or he would have hit the ground in an instant.

  ‘What…’ Bill moved around the counter and sat in the armchair. ‘What do you want to do?’

  Mason’s head filled with questions. It felt as though he were being invited to his own execution, but what could he have done? ‘I have to go.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘What else is there? You heard what it said: people will die.’

  ‘You don’t even know if that’s true. Assuming that this is Anarchy–’

  Mason banged his palm on the coffee table. ‘I think it’s pretty damn clear that it is, don’t you? Jesus, Bill… You’re acting like I have a choice, and that I’m doing something wrong. Last I checked, there was a human hand in my kitchen. Does that sound like somebody who wouldn’t kill innocent
people?’

  Bill looked down at his feet. ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Well then.’

  ‘At least let me get you some backup.’

  ‘No. We have to stick to the rules.’ Mason looked over the couch at the bedroom, where Diane and Amy were keeping suspiciously quiet. ‘We have to play everything as if it’s normal. Diane can go to work, Amy can go to school. Just stay in touch, in case anything seems out of the ordinary – anything. Got it?’

  Bill saluted. ‘Sir.’

  Sighing, Mason got up and folded the box back up. ‘Thanks, Bill. I know you do a lot for me, and I appreciate it. But could you do just one more thing?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Keep this under wraps until it’s done. Cox will have a field day with this.’

  ‘Sure. But I want you to do something for me, too.’ Bill stood, removed the gun from his holster and handed it over, grip first. ‘Take this with you. Just in case.’

  Mason shook his head. ‘I have my own, but I won’t go in unarmed.’

  ‘Good. Then I’d better let you get some rest. Stay in touch, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  Mason watched him leave and bolted the door behind him. This would be a long night, for sure, but tomorrow would be a hell of a lot worse. Of that, he was certain.

  45

  All night he had been up checking (and then re-checking) that the windows were locked. It was the longest night of his life, but he would have done it fifty times over if it meant keeping Diane and his daughter safe.

  It was nearly the time to arrive at the location, and the rain was drawing clouds across the sky, as if covering the city with a grey blanket to suit his mood. Trembling, Mason crossed the street toward 388 Brownlee.

  ‘Yo, cracka-jack.’

  Mason spun around, expecting to see a gun in his face. It was hardly the neighbourhood for a middle-aged white man to be seen by himself. He began to think that if Anarchy didn’t kill him, then one of these people – the youths lurking on the street – might do it for him.