DIRTY

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DIRTY Page 33

by Robert White


  Marie, as usual, was the one with the ideas. Even in her poor state. It was why Marshall had brought her. She had the ability to rationalise a problem and come up with a workable solution.

  She looked over Marshall’s shoulder with her good eye. “Well boss, by all accounts the copper who checked the Escort is a pretty keen guy. Crime orientated sort. He’s keen to get on CID from what I gathered.”

  Marshall still wasn’t on her wavelength. “So?”

  Marie took the map from her senior. “So, where would a crime orientated bobby be sneaking about in the late evening checking motors?”

  Vinnie stopped his search for a second and punched his finger at the map. “Fuckin’ commercial property, Industrial units, and warehouses, that’s where I’d be.”

  Marie smiled wearily. “Me too Inspector.”

  Marshall had no options left. “Let’s do this area next then.”

  Andy increased the speed of the car and made for the Grimethorpe industrial Estate.

  Dave’s legs were shaking uncontrollably. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold or his nerves. The phone should be ringing right now. Without the phone call, Dave had no options. He had to wait for the bastard.

  A telltale metallic noise came from the unit. Dave grabbed the receiver instantly.

  Casey’s voice was even and calm, “Don’t ask any questions Stewart, just listen. I hope you have a good memory boy because I’m not going to repeat myself.”

  Dave was close to exploding with anger but he knew better. “I have a pen and paper. Get on with it.”

  Casey smiled to himself. “You’re a proper little Boy Scout aren’t you? OK, from where you are now, take the first road on the right. That’s Stiles Avenue. Then you walk a hundred yards or so until you see a small car sales pitch. Turn left and keep walking until the street turns to a dirt track. Stay on the track. That will lead to an old railway line. Follow the line away from the lights of the town until you come to the first tunnel-bridge. Keep walking and stand under the bridge. Hold the files in your right hand. If I as much as feel another person’s presence, Mummy and Daddy will be pushing up the daises. Got that?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Good. It won’t take more than 10 minutes walk David so don’t be late.”

  The phone went dead.

  Dave folded the files in two and pushed them into the front of his jeans. He removed the Browning from the small of his back and cocked it. Dave grimaced. “I won’t be late mate, trust me.”

  Dave walked quickly. The rain was beating into his face so fiercely he could hardly hear what was going on around him. He saw the headlights late. A dark saloon car with at least three occupants was headed straight towards him. It was closely followed by a Police dog van.

  Dave saw a man leaning from the window of the saloon. He was shining a powerful torch at parked cars.

  Dave’s heart rate went through the roof. He could taste the adrenaline in his mouth. He bowed his head against the rain and walked as casually as he could.

  The car slowed as it reached him. The man with the torch shone it towards Dave, who pulled up his collar even further. Dave’s anguish was short lived. The Police officers were obviously looking for a vehicle, not a man. The brace of cars sped to the next set of parked vehicles and recommenced their checks.

  Dave found the car sales pitch and followed his directions. He had calmed a little now. Is heart felt normal again; He was focused on one thing only. Finding his parents alive and well.

  The rain pounded against the windscreens of the Police vehicles. As the Lancashire car passed Dave Stewart, Vinnie made a comment about the guy being “up to no good.”

  Marshall was to the point of despair he didn’t care about the lone male pedestrian.

  Vinnie almost screamed with pleasure, “The fucker’s here!”

  Parked outside what appeared to be a near derelict building was the Lancashire Police Escort booked out to Rod Casey.

  A wry smile came over Marshall’s now unshaven face. “Patience is indeed a virtue,” he thought.

  Andy pulled the car over and killed the engine. The Yorkshire dog van stopped behind and the handler got out, complete with a very large dog that didn’t appear to mind the rain at all. He leaned into the open passenger window, rain dripping from his nose just from his brief walk.

  Marshall was pulling on his coat.

  “Right, Vinnie, Andy, check the Escort. I’ll go with Bill here to check the Building.”

  “I hope tha don’t expect t’ dog to track in this weather mate.” Bill said who really had no idea of the gravity of the job at hand.

  Vinnie and Andy were already getting out of the car to get a closer look at the Escort. The dog handler looked at the two men, who gave the impression of a pair of very angry bare-knuckle fighters and changed his mind.

  “Err… Max’ll give it a go though.”

  Vinnie slapped Bill’s already soaked shoulder with his powerful hand, nodded toward the disused warehouse and chirped, “Max will search that place a lot quicker than we can pal.” He pointed at the long-coated German Shepherd. The animal gave the impression of a sawn-off lion, “…and if our fuckin’ man is inside I hope he chews his arse off.”

  The dog had already sensed the urgency of his task from the mood of his human colleagues. He danced around the feet of his handler whimpering in excitement.

  The best Police dogs are always keen to work and Max could hardly wait. Marshall stood in the torrential rain and turned to Marie.

  “You stay in the car lady.”

  Marie actually seemed grateful for the order. She was dog-tired and in pain. She had long since taken the last of the pain relieving drugs from the hospital.

  “OK boss.”

  Marshall took the torch that Vinnie had been using and beckoned Bill toward the front door of the warehouse. Within seconds they were examining the small jemmy mark on the door that had been inflicted by Casey hours earlier to gain entry.

  Bill tentatively took control. “I’ll put the dog in first and see if he indicates anyone.”

  Marshall nodded his agreement.

  The door pushed open without resistance and Bill unhooked the leash from Max. The dog trembled now with excitement. For Max the game was about to begin.

  Bills voice changed from his deep Yorkshire drawl to a higher pitched, almost feminine sound as he spoke to the dog. “Good boy, good boy. Where is he? Go find him boy.”

  Bill now had to physically hold the dog back as Max was at fever pitch. His voice changed yet again as he shouted into the darkened old building. “Police! Anyone inside, stand still, I’m sending the dog!”

  Bill released Max who catapulted into the darkness. Marshall shone the torch at the dog as he padded from left to right. The Police dog was trained to search for many kinds of people. He had no way of knowing the good guys from the bad, so if he found a placid person hiding he would simply sit and bark at them. This was the ‘indication.’ On the other hand, anything that ran or showed aggression got bitten. For Max it was a great game.

  The dog stopped suddenly and sniffed at something on the floor. Marshall held the light on the spot. It was a dark stain in the concrete. It was the blood of Dave Stewart’s father.

  Bill gave Marshall a knowing look. The dog moved on and disappeared out of sight.

  Andy and Vinnie joined the pair at the door. Vinnie whispered into Marshall’s ear that Casey’s Escort was locked and empty. The four men were silent hoping for Max to bark, the atmosphere painfully tense.

  Minutes passed and the dog returned panting and frustrated. Bill called Max to him and praised him. He ordered the dog “down” and the four men all entered the warehouse.

  “He’s been in here,” said Vinnie inspecting the floor. “Not too long ago either I’d wager.”

  The dog suddenly stood and barked. All four men jumped. It was Marie standing at the door. She stood still and Max sniffed at her. She looked apologetically at Marshall. “Sorry boss, I�
��m a nosy female.”

  Bill ordered Max back to his original position but the dog was reluctant to be still.

  He spoke quietly to his trusted companion, “What’s the matter boy?”

  The dog’s excitement grew. The game was far from over for Max. He padded quickly to the exit and scratched at the door. Bill called him away, mistaking the dog’s actions as a desire to go outside for a piss or to get back in the van in which he loved to ride.

  Marie studied the floor. She, like the rest, saw the blood, but as ever she saw more. There were two distinct sets of scrape marks on the floor. She inspected them closely. They both led toward the door. She looked at the scrapings and then at Max. “You are a clever boy aren’t you?”

  The dog whimpered and let out a small high-pitched bark. Bill shouted at him to be silent.

  Marie was as excited as Max. “No Bill, Max is right. Look at these marks guys.”

  The four all studied the black scrape marks. They started at the bloodstain and ended at the door.

  Marie was confident. “These are heel marks. Casey has dragged two bodies out of this place,” she pointed at the dog, “and Max here wants to show us where they are.”

  twenty nine

  Dave had followed his directions and was now on a single-track railway line that had high sloping grass banks at either side.

  The torrents of rain that lashed at him had made his hands and face numb with cold. Visibility was very poor indeed. Nothing in the way of direct light, only what reflected from the high sodium lights of the nearby ‘A’ road. The line obviously hadn’t been used for a very long time. This was Coal Board property. Once upon a time the coal would have been dragged along this line to a main branch where a train would take it to wherever it was destined. The ghosts of many a Yorkshireman and his trusted pony still sweated and strained along this track.

  Dave slowed. He could make out the bridge in the distance. He’d had no time to plan. He’d been working on pure instinct. He stopped and looked at the scene. Under the bridge was total pitch. His man may already be there.

  Dave thought it unlikely that he could yet be seen from under the bridge. For the moment he could think in safety. He again checked the Browning and the files. There was no choice; he had to go under the bridge and face whoever or whatever was there. He felt like a child in a nightmare. The total darkness of the bridge was looming in front of him. His heart raced. He could hear the blood in his ears, the howl of the wind and the lash of the rain, nothing else.

  He moved away from the centre of the line and walked halfway up the left-hand bank. He could now see the top of the bridge.

  There was no one.

  Back on the line he walked slowly. Various items of rubbish had been dumped on the line. Old prams and bin liners of goodness knew what. Dave tripped and stumbled his way in the darkness.

  He was now less than twenty yards from the entrance to what seemed like the darkest and most depraved place on earth. He could hear water pouring through the roof of the bridge onto some metal object underneath. It would make the chances of hearing the approach of a man impossible. Was anything on his side?

  He took each pace with growing disquiet. Despite the freezing rain sweat poured down his spine. Now, for the first time that night, he felt genuine fear. Suddenly there was a flash of movement to his left. With the swiftest movement Dave drew the Browning and fell to a crouch.

  The biggest rat Dave had ever seen pushed its way along the railway line. Dave felt like shooting it. His heart pounded harder than ever. He forced himself to calm, rose to his feet and continued his laborious trek.

  Ten yards to go. Dave crouched. The gun pointed at the black void ahead. Each step increased his heart rate. Looking forward, he was blind. Finally he rested his left hand against the stone entrance to the bridge. He made a swift movement and finally stood under the structure. The hammering of the rain indeed obliterated everything other than the loudest of noises.

  Dave noticed that steam rose from his clothes, his body heat was pouring from him. He needed a place where he could feel less open. He leaned against the wall of the bridge and felt a little easier. He took the files from under his clothes and held them in his right hand, exchanging the Browning to his left.

  Dave didn’t know if he could shoot left-handed. Fuck it, he’d never shot a handgun anyway. One way or another, left or right handed, he would soon find out.

  Marshall and his team were in poor spirits. They had all expected Max to take them to another building or at the very least the Escort. Instead Max sat and barked furiously at an old Vauxhall car parked across the road.

  Bill’s attempts to dissuade the dog were fruitless. Eventually he had to resort to pulling Max away by the collar. Max was not easily put off and struggled to make his handler see what he could sense by barking even louder.

  Andy sat in the insecure Vauxhall. “Well Max has recovered a knock off motor guys.” He said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Marie sat alongside him and checked the glove box. Inside, a wallet and a chequebook appeared untouched. “Sloppy thief I’d say Andy.”

  The thump from the boot of the car nearly gave them both heart failure.

  Marie gave out a sharp, “Jesus!”

  Andy was on his way out of the car. “They’re in the fuckin’ boot!”

  It was firmly locked. Bill ran to the dog van and returned with a crowbar. The officers franticly attempted to open the boot. Andy used his tremendous strength on the bar and the lid popped open to reveal the hooded and bound bodies of Irene and Derek Stewart.

  Andy lifted Irene out first and laid her on the floor. He removed the hood and the gaffa tape on her mouth Casey had thought to add. He put his ear to her face. “She’s not breathing! Bill get on the horn for an ambulance.”

  Marie took Irene’s arm. “She has a feint pulse; we’ll do mouth to mouth.”

  Marshall and Vinnie were pulling Derek from the car. The tough old miner was still conscious. They removed his hood. His face was badly damaged one eye was completely closed and the remnants of a tooth hung by a thread of gum at the front of his mouth. He couldn’t stand.

  Marie placed her hand behind the neck of Irene and lifted slightly, opening her airway. She pushed her fingers into the elderly woman’s mouth and removed a set of false teeth. Her own injuries forgotten she began the harrowing task of trying to breath life into another human being.

  Bill jogged over. “Two Ambulances en route.”

  Marshall surveyed the scene. How much more carnage would this man inflict before they caught him? His voice was distant, “Thanks Bill, the dog did good.”

  Suddenly Marshall came to life. Max was still barking even though he was in his van. “Listen Bill, I think our man is nearby. Can Max track him?”

  Bill wiped his face, which dripped with the unrelenting rain. “If he can, he’s a miracle worker. There can’t be any scent left in this weather.”

  Marshall looked at the two bodies on the floor in the rain. “He found these two and I’m in need of a miracle today Bill.”

  Marie stood suddenly and backed away from Irene. She turned to her boss and burst into tears. He held the slight woman in his arms and had to swallow hard himself. He motioned over Marie’s shoulder for Bill to get Max.

  She looked up at her boss and smiled through her tears. “She’s breathing boss.”

  Marshall looked into Marie’s damaged face. He could barely control his own emotions. “I won’t forget this Marie.”

  He turned to Bill. “Come on mate, I need a second miracle now.”

  Dave’s eyes were as used to the dark as they were going to get and he could still see the square root of fuck all. The rain fell in buckets on either side of the bridge.

  Somewhere off to his left was the hole in the bridge that water poured through. His lack of activity meant that the loss of body heat was taking its toll and he had started to shake. He gripped the pistol hard with his left hand and started on a prayer in his mind.


  The light was a shock. It was so bright it rendered Dave totally blind. He raised the Browning in the general direction his mind believed the light had come from. He would have pulled the trigger but his right leg gave way. A massive explosion went off in his head. Not only was he blind but now deaf.

  Savage pain racked his leg. He had never felt pain like it. He had dropped the files and his weapon. He gripped his right leg. Hot liquid, Dave knew to be his own blood, poured from a wound just above the knee.

  Then he could see. A shadow of a man stood over him. A tall man in his forties; he held a Police issue Dragon lamp which lit the whole of the underside of the bridge. He also held a sawn off shotgun.

  The man smiled. “Can you hear me David?”

  Dave could. Just.

  “You have something for me I believe?”

  Dave looked at the floor and saw the files were about ten feet away to his right. He also saw the Browning was about the same distance away to his left.

  Casey stepped forward and stamped on Dave’s damaged leg.

  Dave screamed.

  “Ooops! That hurt David?” Casey appeared mildly amused. “Now we have to get something straight before you pass out. You see you are bleeding from an artery. See the colour? That’s how you tell. You’re dying David, so I can tell you all.”

  Casey actually seemed to relax. “You see, I am the man who killed that little slut of yours. She did have nice tits David. I would have had more fun, but it just wasn’t a professional thing to do. Now, as for Mummy and Daddy, I have some bad news there too…”

  Dave hurt. His leg was pumping too much blood for him to have much strength for long. It had to be now, he knew. His parents were dead. Anne was dead. Why not join them?

  The man put more of his weight on Dave’s leg. “Did you copy the files David?”

  Dave looked the man in the eyes. Even through his agony, he was going to enjoy this. Dave started to laugh. It was a small laugh at first. It started way down in Dave’s stomach. He just couldn’t help it. Was it hysteria? He didn’t know or care.

 

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