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

by Adam Nicholls

  52

  It didn’t look good when Mason arrived late. He rushed into the dark meeting room, burst through the door and apologised for not having made it on time. All eyes were on him.

  ‘Take a seat, Mason.’ Cox stood next to the projector, sharing all the latest details with the team assigned to Anarchy’s case. ‘You haven’t missed much, as yet.’

  Mason nodded and went to the only vacant seat in the room – next to Bill.

  ‘Hey, buddy,’ Bill said as Mason slumped in next to him. He was chewing on a pen, which was a habit Mason had long since forgotten about.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘How’s Amy?’

  ‘A little shaken up,’ Mason whispered, ‘but okay.’

  Suddenly, the lights in the room came on, and Captain Cox switched off the projector. ‘Gentlemen, we will do anything we can to find this guy. Since yesterday’s school attack, the FBI are coming in to–’

  Everybody in the room began to complain, flipping out their hands like angry Italian stereotypes. Everyone tried to talk at once, making the entire noise incoherent.

  Cox raised a finger to her lips. ‘Shush – quiet down.’ The room slowly simmered back to silence. ‘As I was saying, the FBI are coming in to investigate the attack – and that’s what it was: a chemical attack – and will be interviewing each and every one of us in turn.’

  ‘Do the SFPD still have the right to pursue the case?’ Mason asked.

  ‘Good question, and the answer is yes.’ Leanne Cox sat at the table resting an arm across her lap. ‘However, we’re limited to what we can do, and have to run every little step by them before we do it. This means that if anybody is unsure whether they should do something – if anybody so much as farts, they want us to ask permission first.’

  ‘Where do we begin, Cap?’ asked an unfamiliar uniformed cop from the front.

  ‘We want to identify this guy. We have the Bureau’s top men working on–’

  Mason slowly raised a hand, and as Cox looked at him, every face in the room turned his way. ‘Actually… his name is Shaun Chambers.’ And I’m sure I’m in deep shit for not having told you sooner. ‘There was a call that you guys dismissed as a hoax, but I took the liberty of visiting the woman in Arizona. She gave a positive ID on her nephew.’

  Cox gawked at him, her mouth agape. ‘Can she come in and state that officially?’

  ‘I asked. She will.’

  ‘Good, then leave her details on my desk. Everybody else,’ she stood and went to hold open the door, ‘do whatever you can to find this son of a bitch, and remember to look both ways before you break wind.’

  Laughter filled the room as everyone got up to leave. One of the officers passed by and tapped Mason on the shoulder. ‘Good to have you around, sir.’

  Sir. Was that something he would have to get used to again if he took the job?

  As Mason and Bill were leaving, Captain Cox stood in the doorway to block their exit. ‘I’m sorry about your daughter,’ she said sincerely.

  ‘Thanks. But she wasn’t hurt.’

  ‘Still, nobody should have to go through that.’ She peered outside, then slowly pushed the door to a close. ‘Technically, you’re not a policeman. You know what that means?’

  Mason had a feeling he did. ‘That I don’t have to talk to the Feds?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Cox said. ‘And don’t you go running your mouth, Detective Harvey. As far as you’re concerned, you didn’t hear this conversation.’

  Bill pulled a non-existent zipper across his mouth. ‘Sealed.’

  Cox opened the door once more, letting them go. ‘See what you can dig up.’

  Mason left alongside Bill, wondering just how much else there was to dig up. There was no trail to follow and nobody left to interview. He had no idea how to find Anarchy, but somehow he knew he wouldn’t have to – Anarchy would find him.

  53

  The press had seized control of the front of the police station. There wasn’t a place to turn without having a camera rammed down your throat.

  ‘That’s Mason Black!’ a woman screamed, running over for a shot at the first interview. As soon as she began to move, everyone else came in tow. ‘A few quick words, Mr Black?’ she asked, holding out her recording machine.

  Mason stopped, shooting a quick glance at Bill. It read: just a minute. ‘Sure.’

  ‘What brings you to the police station?’ the woman asked, diving right in.

  ‘Actually, I’m considering joining the force.’

  There was a mumble among the crowd, and then as more journalists picked up on the fuss being made, they drifted over to join in. They can’t all be the first to get the report, thought Mason.

  But the woman only frowned. ‘Are you not investigating Anarchy?’

  ‘I’ve had my ties with him, but that investigation is now in the hands of the SFPD,’ he lied. ‘I wish I had more of a story for you, but that’s all there is.’

  ‘But wasn’t your daughter involved in the school attack?’ an accusing man’s voice came from the back of the crowd.

  Mason looked over everyone’s head and put a flat hand across his eyebrows – a shield from the sun. If he could help it, he would like to know who he was talking to so he could look them in the eye and tell them to mind their own damn business.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Bill said, putting a hand on Mason’s back and encouraging him toward the Mustang. ‘They can be vicious, eh?’ He sat in the passenger seat and adjusted his tie.

  ‘Yeah.’ Mason started up the engine. ‘What do you say to a liquid lunch?’

  ‘Beer and burger?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  The place they went to was a little-known diner six blocks over. Mason had never been there before, and although it didn’t look like the most hygienic place on Earth, it wasn’t the most unfriendly. Anyway, the beer was good and the burger was even better.

  ‘So,’ Bill said, his mouth full of burger meat, ‘what are your thoughts?’

  ‘On?’

  ‘Where to start?’

  Mason took a large gulp of beer and set down the empty glass. ‘No idea. Maybe I should just get a job at Walmart and leave all these freaks behind.’

  Bill laughed. ‘You’re better than Walmart.’

  ‘I’m serious. Every year, a new sicko comes into my life. There comes a time when you have to ask if you’re in the wrong line of work. And now that my office has been blown across town, there’s no better time to be looking for a change of direction.’

  ‘You could always get your job back.’ Bill looked at him too suspiciously, as if hinting to be fed more information than he already had.

  ‘How much do you know?’

  ‘Hm?’ He bit his lip.

  ‘Your poker-face is awful.’ Mason grabbed his coat, dumping it into his lap. ‘When I mentioned it to the press, you didn’t bat an eyelid. Tell me what you know.’

  ‘All right. There’s a rumour going around that Cox asked you back, and according to Diane, you’re giving it serious thought.’

  ‘Well, it might not be a rumour and Diane might be right. But don’t say anything yet. I’m still considering it and I don’t want you to look foolish if you turn out to be confirming false facts.’

  ‘Appreciate it.’

  ‘Look, Bill.’ Mason leaned forward. ‘If I’m going to be totally honest, I can’t make a decision until Anarchy is out of the way. And – not going to lie – he’s probably watching me right now, which puts you in the line of fire. So, I have a favour to ask…’

  Bill looked a little worried, which was understandable. Every favour he had ever done for Mason usually ended with gunshots and tragedy.

  ‘Can you take Diane and Amy away for a couple days? Lead them to somewhere safe and keep an eye on them? I’m going to put my coat on and head in a different direction. Unless he has some sort of magic ability I’ve never heard of, he can’t be in two places at once.’

  ‘You’re going to draw his eye while I take care
of your family?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Bill nodded. ‘Sure, Mason. I’ll explain everything. I’m sure they’ll understand.’

  ‘Thanks, pal. After this, we’re even.’

  ‘Not likely. You owe me, like, fifty beers.’

  Mason slid his arms into the sleeves of his coat, and dumped some cash on the table for Bill to get a cab. ‘All in good time.’ He left the diner and stomped through the mud toward his car. Where he was going, he wasn’t quite sure, but he hoped against hope that Anarchy would follow him, rather than Bill.

  54

  In the great city of New York, Evie Black unpacked her grocery shopping for the first time.

  It was still a case of finding a good place for each product to go, and it required more thought than it might have seemed – especially for a depressed, unemployed and lonely woman with nothing else to do.

  She supposed she should start looking for a job. Although she had taken shifts at the nearest factory (they made cleaning products, but took it so seriously that you would think they were making firearms), she wanted real work. She wanted journalism.

  Evie put the TV on for a little background noise and wandered around her new apartment. She wondered how long she would be able to keep this place going. Living in the Big Apple wasn’t cheap, especially for someone with ridiculously high standards such as she.

  And then there was the loneliness. The cold, bitter loneliness.

  She missed Amy, her niece, and how she had always looked up to her. And then there was her own daughter, Amelia, who she had given up for adoption at birth. It was a decision she now regretted deeply, as she needed somebody more than ever before. Only two years ago, she had met Amelia, a teenager at the time, and she was everything a mother could hope her daughter would turn out to be.

  But most of all, as much as she refused to say it out loud, she missed Mason.

  Then, as if the TV had read her thoughts, Evie heard her brother’s name. She ran into the living area, cranking the volume up enough to make the neighbours bang on the wall. She didn’t care, though, because now she was looking at her brother on the news channel, answering questions beside Detective Bill Harvey.

  “But wasn’t your daughter involved in the school attack?”

  Evie slumped onto the couch. There was something odd about the man who had fired the question at Mason. At first she thought it was because he was in such casual clothes for a reporter, but she soon realised that his question was in fact ripe with anger. Whatever it was, there was something personal there.

  As the camera followed Mason walking away from the scene, the mysterious man stepped forward from the crowd, watching him eagerly with his hands balled into fists. His legs were shaking, and as he turned back to face the camera, Evie paused the TV.

  On some level, she wondered if this was all in her head – if it was just an excuse to get back in touch with Mason. But she was well aware of her keen journalist’s eye. It was what had made her so successful in the past. She knew better than anybody that even the smallest detail could matter the most.

  With that in mind, Evie reached for her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts.

  55

  Mason had checked into a cheap motel, proving once and for all that you only got what you paid for. Disgusting, he thought as he dumped his laptop onto the creaky bed. If he was lucky, Anarchy would kill him before the room gave him some sort of infection. All he could do was remind himself that all of this was for a good cause.

  Before he had even settled in, his phone began to ring. But the call didn’t surprise him nearly as much as the caller did. Evie?

  ‘Hey,’ he said, holding it up to his ear and pulling the laptop out of the bag.

  ‘Mason? I think I might have something.’

  Mason had an uncomfortable moment where he first thought she meant some kind of disease. It soon clicked, however, and he quickly became excited at the idea of a lead. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just that I was watching the news report of you at the station, and it sort of looked like you were being followed.’

  ‘Really? By who?’

  ‘Hold on, I’ll send the photo.’

  This was exactly what he missed about Evie; no matter how she felt about him, she would always go out of her way to help him, especially if it was for a case.

  The phone beeped in his ear and he checked the photo. ‘This guy?’

  ‘Yeah. Like I say, it might turn out to be nothing. I just thought that you should know.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Mason held on to the silence that followed. It felt comfortable, somehow, in spite of recent events. ‘How’s New York? Have you found somewhere to live yet?’

  ‘I have. It’s not bad. A little scary, but I have a good feeling about this.’

  It’s because of me then. I was the problem, and now that you’re gone, everything is just fine. Isn’t that right, sis? ‘That’s great, Evie. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.’

  ‘You can say hi to Amy and Diane for me.’

  Mason smiled, remembering how good she was with the people in his life. ‘I will. You take care of yourself, okay?’

  ‘… You too.’

  The line went dead, and Mason was left looking at the photo. The man didn’t look familiar, but he compared it to the police sketch on his laptop anyway. It definitely wasn’t a match.

  He sent the photo on to Captain Cox, with an attached message that they should keep an eye out for this man just in case. With that done, he turned in for the night, stripping down to his underwear but refusing to remove his vest through fear of catching something.

  For the next few minutes, Mason stirred. Thoughts of Evie and his family made a whirlwind inside his head, keeping him awake. It was lucky, really, for if he had been asleep, he would not have seen the silhouette lurking outside the window of his room.

  Mason swallowed, reached under the pillow for his gun and eased out of bed.

  56

  Gun clutched, Mason stood behind the door, pressing the lip of the barrel against the wood.

  Go ahead and break in. I dare you, asshole.

  If he were to be honest with himself, he didn’t know if it would be Anarchy or some other danger to society. Hell, for all he knew, it could be Housekeeping (although not likely at this time of night – especially in an occupied room).

  Mason’s finger was wrapped around the trigger, and he was ready to squeeze it. But when a folded sheet of paper slid under the door and footsteps began to softly patter away, he felt safe enough to lower the gun.

  Lured by suspicion, he crouched and picked up the paper. On the front, his name was written in cursive. He opened it up in his free hand and read it:

  East side of the building, follow the path

  down to the water.

  I’ll be waiting.

  Mason was clued-up enough to know that this wasn’t a love letter. But was it really Anarchy who had delivered it? Could he stop the psychopath now without having to risk meeting his demands? Had he really been followed here, as he had suspected he would?

  With the gun still in his hand, he sprung open the door and ran outside. ‘Wait!’

  The figure loomed in the darkness on the end of the walkway. He was small – too short to be a man fully grown. He turned, revealing his face to the light given by the wall lamp. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry,’ he said, trembling.

  Mason tossed the revolver inside and pulled the door closed. Slowly, so as not to scare the boy, he walked over and knelt. In his softest tone, he asked, ‘Why did you bring me this?’

  The boy, who looked no older than ten, rubbed his eye. ‘The man told me to.’

  ‘What man? Where?’

  ‘He was in the parking lot. He gave me ten dollars to deliver it through your door. I didn’t mean to annoy you, though – I swear. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Mason said, patting the boy on the shoulder. ‘Did you see anything
suspicious? Did anything seem out of the ordinary to you?’

  The boy furrowed his brow and gave a sort of cross-eyed stare, as if trying to concentrate. Finally, he shook his head in rapid swings. ‘No. But his family was crying.’

  ‘His family?’ Mason began to worry. If it truly was Anarchy who had sent this note, then why did he have people with him? And more importantly, why were they crying?

  ‘They were in his truck, and they looked really upset.’

  ‘Right.’ Mason got off his knee and patted the boy on the back. It was possible that somebody was in danger, and if he didn’t do as he was told, another person would lose their life because of him. ‘Head back to your room, lock your door, and tell your parents what happened. You got it?’

  ‘Yeah.’ The boy nodded. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. Just be safe, and don’t talk to strangers.’

  His pulse racing, Mason went back to his room, quickly threw on some clothes and checked his gun. It was fully loaded, but he checked again, and then one more time for good measure. You could never be too safe.

  As he shut the door and raced down to the water, he had no idea what to expect. Although something gave him the distinct impression that it wouldn’t be good.

  57

  The shotgun rested across his lap as he waited for Mason.

  Feeling the cool breeze across the nape of his neck, Anarchy kept alert. Any minute now, his little project would be running out from the trees, then hit with a big surprise.

  ‘Please, just let us go,’ the girl to his right whined.

  Anarchy shuffled in his fold-up chair, looking to the small Asian girl. She was standing on the edge of the jetty, hands cuffed, the wind blowing her hair out in a thousand different directions. ‘I really wish I could, sweetheart, but this is something I have to do.’

  ‘You’re sick,’ claimed the woman on the other side of him.

  But Anarchy didn’t afford her a glance. The kid was too young to be in this situation – to suffer such trauma – but the woman? She should know better than to run her mouth when her life was on the line. ‘There’s no need for insults.’