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

by Adam Nicholls

  ‘We’ve done everything we can,’ Evie whispered. ‘Right?’

  Captain Moore simply nodded, eyes straight ahead, looking at the judge.

  Evie, however, was less calm. She noticed her hands were shaking terribly, but it didn’t much surprise her. A man’s freedom – an innocent man’s freedom – had been entrusted to her. In hindsight, she could have done a lot more for him if she’d trusted him fully. But that was easier said than done, wasn’t it?

  She looked over her shoulder at the crying people in the pews. Most of them seemed as keen as she was to get this over with. Probably friends of Sadie and Emma, Evie thought, turning her head to look at the prosecutor’s table, where Detective Little was standing as the aggressor – not as the defendant. That would come later, if Calvin wasn’t found guilty first.

  The evidence had been submitted: a pair of size-elevens with small traces of blood on the soles. There was the hammer, too, but the only markings left on it – other than the wiped-off blood – was a partial print from Durant. The fact that it had been found inside Little’s home seemed useful, but it wasn’t exactly conclusive.

  As Fitzgerald called Calvin Durant and Detective Little to the stand, working his own science on them to make them state their own facts, Evie sat quietly. Her foot kept moving, her knee bobbing up and down. She watched the entire trial like that.

  This was, without a question, the longest day of her life.

  Finally, the jury was excused to find a verdict, giving them thirty minutes to take a break. While everybody filed out to stretch their legs and take a quick puff of a cigarette, Evie remained in the seat next to Calvin. She put a hand on his.

  ‘Miss Black,’ he said. ‘If I’m found guilty, I want you to know that I’m grateful for your help. I understand you tried your best, and I… Thank you.’

  Speechless, Evie gripped his hand tighter, watching a tear roll down his cheek and drop soundlessly into his lap. It felt okay to know that she wasn’t the only one who was scared.

  Just shy of a half-hour later, the jury shuffled back in with indefinable expressions on their faces. Evie could only think the worst now. Calvin’s hand squeezed hers, but she didn’t mind – she needed to let out some tension, somehow. Try as she might to focus on the jury, she could only imagine how painful it would be to write up the article later. Evie could picture her own misery as she explained to the world what had happened to Calvin. And she would write it, whether that be for Vision Magazine, another company, or even her own blog.

  Judge Dupuis addressed the people to his right. ‘Has the jury reached a verdict?’

  ‘Yes, your Honour.’

  Calvin’s breathing got heavy.

  Evie put her other hand on his.

  One woman stood, chubby-cheeked and pale of skin. ‘For the case of the Court versus Calvin Durant, on first-degree murder of Sadie and Emma Durant, we find the defendant…’

  38

  Five days had passed since the trial. Evie sat in the good company of Captain Moore, with the printed article rattling in her hand. ‘Can I read it to you?’

  Moore set down two glasses of whiskey, one for each of them. ‘Go ahead.’

  Evie took a moment to check for typing errors, cleared her throat, then began. ‘America. The Land of the Free. It’s well renowned throughout the world for its justice system. The structure of the law is thought to be impeccable by many. But if that’s true, then where was the justice in New York during the spring of 2016?

  ‘Calvin Durant – an innocent man who suffered blackouts due to a condition known as syncope – was facing a murder charge when he woke up to find that his wife and child had been bludgeoned to death by a hammer. His statement to the police had been refused by Detective Dennis Little, who had more secrets than he cared to admit.

  ‘Make no mistake – this is corruption in its rawest form.

  ‘Only too late did it transpire that the oldest of the two victims – mother of one, Sadie Durant – had been sexually harassed by her murderer years before he had taken her life. John Matthews – former employee of Stop and Shop Groceries, where he’d first begun his obsession for Sadie – had been known for stalking women and intruding on their marriages. When Sadie moved to Manhattan with her family, she had been followed by Matthews and the unhealthy obsession continued.

  ‘Within a month of the move, the murders took place at the Durant residence, and Calvin was arrested almost immediately after waking from unconsciousness. All evidence suggested that he was the killer, until myself and Captain Moore (of the New York Police Department) looked further into this mystery.

  ‘John Matthews, as was later discovered, appeared to have been in cahoots with the arresting detective the whole time. Cell phone records showed a connection between these two, including text messages which they’d sent to keep of track of their conspiracy.’

  Evie put the paper on her lap and took a large gulp of whiskey. It burned a tunnel down her throat, but she didn’t care – she needed it.

  ‘Detective Little’s home was also searched, in which the murder weapon – along with blood-stained suit shoes – were found. When interrogated, he’d said nothing, but later broke down in court, confessing to the cover-up of John Matthews’ crime. Now, they each serve a life sentence. This, in every way, is what’s known as justice.

  ‘Calvin Durant – now a free man – has been vindicated, and he plans to bury his family tomorrow at Highfield Cemetery. For his sake, we should all take a prayer that he can bury his guilt of their fate with them.’

  Captain Moore shook his glass, the ice cubes clinking around in the empty bottom. ‘It’s good. I mean, it needs some work, but it’s good.’

  ‘That’s just my first edit. But it’s okay?’

  ‘It seems short, but it’s only a column, right?’

  Evie shrugged. ‘I don’t know just yet. But we’ll soon find out.’ She picked up her bag and slid the paper inside. Zipping it up, she stood and shook Moore’s hand. ‘I can’t thank you enough for having heard me out in the first place.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s what I’m here for. You just take care of yourself, Miss Black.’

  ‘Of course. You too.’ Evie gave a grin that she felt came out all too cheesy. There was no denying it – she felt proud of herself. Not for the half-hearted article, but for having had a part in freeing an innocent man. Calvin, she hoped, would find a way past this and try to work towards rebuilding his life.

  ‘Miss Black,’ Captain Moore said, stopping her as she was halfway through the door.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Keep in touch.’

  Evie smiled again. ‘I will.’

  39

  Evie was shown straight up to the penthouse of Vision headquarters. The last time she was here she’d been ganged up on, humiliated, and was earning a wage by making coffee for people who would later try to rape her. Upon returning, however, she had her chin up and walked with a confident grace to Conan Reed’s office.

  ‘Ah, Miss Black,’ Conan said, with one hand on the boardroom door.

  ‘You wanted to see me?’

  ‘Yes, I… I’m afraid I owe you an apology.’

  Evie watched the pain in his face as he said this. ‘Yes, you do. But let’s do it another time, okay?’ She let him off the hook. Evie was feeling particularly kind today, after all – her article had been published in a different magazine. It hadn’t brought in much money – freelance wage – but the truth was out there. That was all that mattered.

  ‘Sure.’ Conan lifted the magazine for their rivals – the one in which Evie had sent her article. ‘I gave it a read. You know, I really thought this Durant guy was guilty. Which was why… Oh, heck. I’m sorry for the way I treated you.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘No, it’s not fine. First, everyone in here was rude to you, then something happened to you – something bad, for which I’ll never fully understand.’ Evie had an idea that he was talking about Troy Bukowski and that little incident. ‘A
nd finally, I dismissed you. You were up against it, for sure, and you still showed us all what you’re made of.’

  ‘I’m just flesh and bone, like everyone else.’

  Conan sighed. ‘If you insist. Anyway, there’s another reason I called you in.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Troy’s job is still available. If you want it, it’s yours.’

  Evie appreciated the gesture – she really did – but wasn’t sure if she could do it. ‘It sounds great and all, but… last time I was here… I can’t work with those people. Not after the things they said. It made me feel so small.’

  ‘Work with? Dear heart, what do you think Troy did here?’

  ‘Um… He was a journalist?’

  Conan uttered a short, sharp laugh. ‘Yes. Right. That, and he was Chief Editor.’

  Evie was stunned. Was she really being offered a job of that importance? Things had never necessarily gone her way, so she’d expected things to swing in her favour eventually. But this?

  ‘You’ll be in charge of them, Miss Black. Everyone who made you feel like a fool, you’ll be their boss from this day on. Of course, the salary is nothing to scoff at either,’ Conan added, still selling the position.

  ‘Then…’ Evie was careful now. Her next words would change her life, in one way or another. ‘I would be happy to accept the job.’

  Conan smiled, showing off his perfectly shaped teeth. An arm outstretched, he pushed open the door to the boardroom. ‘Come on in, then. Your seat is waiting for you.’

  40

  The sun came out on the day of Sadie and Emma Durant’s funeral. Guests came from all over, and even the media had the common decency to keep their distance. Evie felt that she had no business attending, but Calvin had nobody else in the world, save for his mother.

  It was a beautiful ceremony, as far as funerals go. When it was over, everybody quickly left to get to the wake, some more eager than others to get a stiff drink inside them. Calvin, however, remained on the scene to say goodbye in peace.

  Evie watched from afar, silently saying her prayers for this man. He had lost everything, and although justice had eventually come around, it sure didn’t bring his family back to life.

  Minutes later, Calvin Durant came trotting down the path toward her. He looked grim, understandably, as if he could barely stand up right. ‘Thank you,’ he said to Evie in a voice so monotone that it sounded almost robotic.

  ‘Don’t be silly. I wanted to come.’

  ‘No, I mean…’ Calvin let out a long breath. ‘Thank you for getting me off the hook. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you. Nothing could ever match the kindness you’ve shown me.’

  Evie had an idea, but wasn’t so sure that he would commit. ‘You could live.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You could live. That’s your debt to me. I want you to make use of every single day that you’re free.’ She put a hand on his chest. ‘You’re hurting, and probably always will, but don’t let it stop you from living your life. Your family wouldn’t have wanted that, I’m sure.’

  Finally, Calvin began to weep. ‘I just… Sadie always said I should do what makes me happy. I… Excuse me.’ He took a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose. ‘I always wanted to be a chef. Maybe run my own restaurant someday. There’s no time like the present, I guess.’

  Evie couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned against his body and engulfed him in a hug. ‘You hold on to that dream, and don’t you ever let it go.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he said in her ear. ‘I promise.’ They broke apart, and Calvin opened up the back door of the car he’d rented. ‘Are you coming to the wake? I would really like to buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do.’

  Evie shook her head slowly, regretfully. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to be at work in an hour.’ She watched him climb in, waving as the car passed her. She had barely known Calvin Durant, but was glad she had at all. Without him, she would only have been looking for a way to pay the bills. Now that she understood the difference she could make, she wanted more than a job – she wanted to find the truth, and share it with others.

  With one last look at the headstones on the mound, Evie slipped on her sunglasses and made her way back to the Vision building. After all, she had a lot of work to do.

  Thank you for reading

  Mason Black: The Complete Collection

  on Amazon Kindle.

  If you enjoyed the bonus story, why not check out the next in the Evie Black series? The following pages contain a free preview chapter and a newsletter sign-up form.

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  1

  BLACK WIDOW

  Luna Sanchez had never seen a dead body before. Until this awful moment, her life had been mostly rainbows and butterflies. Glorious, fortunate days strung together making her grateful to be alive. She had a wonderful family, a job that she loved (although being a maid was never what she had expected), and she enjoyed perfect health. What more could she ask for – save rewinding the clock to eight fifty-nine, exactly one minute before she’d entered room 122?

  She’d been on turnover service, making the rounds just like any other Monday. The twelfth floor was her last to clean before she got to clock out and pick up her son from kindergarten. While whistling to the tune of a Shakira song and bobbing her head to the lilt of her own voice, Luna slid the key into the lock and popped open the door. She hissed in a ragged breath as she saw it. Red. A puddle of crimson liquid that stained the linens and couldn’t be ignored. Couldn’t be unseen.

  ‘Oh,’ was all that fell from her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The towels she’d been holding flumped to the floor. Shaking hands flew to her cheeks as if to cover a blush. Her disturbed stare didn’t stray from the walls.

  A deep shade of scarlet coated the bed, the obvious outline of a man shaped through the pool of blood. His wrists were bound, his head hung low. Strewn about the shag carpet in a tornado of clothes, lay pairs of women’s panties. As if someone had flung the items out of their suitcase and run from the room screaming.

  A riot of thoughts overtook her mind, stealing her breath. Luna stepped forward, rubbing her eyes like that action would eradicate the body from her presence. Some kind of gruesome dream while wide awake. It’s all in my head, she told herself, but the clean cut of the man – a perfect U from one ear to the other – convinced her otherwise.

  A flash of colour snapped her attention from the man to the mirror over the heavy oak dresser. At first glance she thought it was blood spatter, but Luna soon realised that the shade was too pale. Across the reflective glass, in rushed lipstick handwriting, were two words. They meant nothing. They meant everything.

  BLACK WIDOW

  Terror overtook her slight body as a thought permeated her brain, causing a new torrent of rapid-fire heartbeats. What if the killer hid nearby? What if he stood in the bathroom, rinsing off his blade? Luna stiffened, straining her ears for any possible sound. Silence.

  A scream crept up the back of her throat and threatened to overrun her vocal chords to erupt in a symphony of terror. A thick bubble of air brewed inside her lungs, provoking her, rattling her cage. All she could do was spin on her heel, while examining the scene, taking in details so she could spend months in therapy trying to forget them.

  With one final shudder, Luna slipped through the door, not breathing until she heard the click behind her. Her heart choked her as she came out into the hallway. Just in case, she ran without looking back.

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Hush

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

&
nbsp; Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48