Murder Plot (A Sam Rader Thriller Book 3)

by Simon King

  Once she was sure he’d gone, Sam turned her attention back to Gold Teeth, feeling his blood’s stickiness on her face. The taste of it filled her very soul and as she bent over him, heard the voice a second time.

  “Now do what you were born to do.” Sam did her best to ignore the voice and the craving, leaning down until her mouth was inches from the warmth of his blood.

  “You ever come near Ruby or me again and I’ll make sure to chew your whole fucking face off.” She took a final smell of blood, then retreated back to the stairs.Only once she was sure they wouldn’t follow, Sam made her way back to her apartment. A minute later the Coke was doing its job.

  12

  It was Mumma that phoned Sam back later that day. Once her cell rang and she saw the contact photo, Sam hoped that the news was a little better.

  “Lorraine is out of surgery. They think she’ll pull through.”

  “Thank God,” Sam replied.

  “Sam, listen,” Mumma said, not wasting time. “Perkins is only the middle man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “William Tunney is the one. I ran a check of his cell phone records and found several text messages between himself and Perkins. I’m not sure why, but somehow Tunney is blackmailing Perkins. He has something over him.”

  “Blackmailing for what? The contract?” Sam tried to make sense of things in her mind, the jumble of thoughts tripping over itself.

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, there’s more to it than money. And there’s Pamela Duncan.” Sam ears pricked immediately.

  “Pam?”

  “Yes, the one and only. Did you know she was also in the military? Briefly, back in the heyday of her career commencement. Guess who she was dating?”

  “Tunney.”

  “You catch on quick. From what I gather, this Perkins has managed to surround himself with people who hold something over him. Maybe that’s why he’s always smiling so nervously.”

  “Mumma, I have to get Tim out.”

  “Yes, on that count, I fully agree with you. John’s already phoned Augustine, but he can’t act until tomorrow morning.” Sam mulled it over.

  “If I’m right, the prison will remain locked down today, so hopefully he’ll be fine. I’m meeting with Henderson tonight at midnight. Maybe he knows something more.”

  “Just be careful. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Hearing ya loud and clear,” Sam replied, dreading her instincts.

  The wait for midnight dragged like nothing before for Sam. She tried to occupy her mind by relaxing with the laptop, going back over files from the prison. But nothing she did could stop her eyes from repeatedly darting back and forth between the laptop time, the wall clock and her wristwatch.

  Out of sheer frustration, she typed his name into Google and took her chances. The first several pages were filled with webpages about Tunney’s business interests, his projects and the contracts he’d fulfilled. But as Sam progressed deeper into the void, she happened to find a single page with a line of text that immediately grabbed her attention. Tunney Completes Another Hunt.

  Sam clicked the page and an image immediately filled the top half of her monitor. William Tunney was standing above a dead elephant, one boot on the animal’s front leg, his rifle slung across his shoulders. It appeared he was in some African game reserve, hunting trophies and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “He’s a hunter,” Sam thought to herself. And that was when a thought crossed her mind, one so left-field, it made perfect sense. She quickly opened another page and followed a hunch, one she hoped would finally let the pieces fall into place.

  By the time midnight rolled around, Sam was prepped, fired-up and ready to go. The only thing missing was Henderson and that she hoped was about to be rectified. As she climbed down the stairs from her apartment, she briefly paused, listening for the sounds of someone approaching her. She wasn’t sure if old Gold Teeth had learnt his lesson, or had instead stuck around for payback.

  After making sure she was alone, Sam continued on to her car, not relaxing until she was safely inside. She only began to calm once she swung the vehicle out onto the main road, headed out to the warehouse where Augustine had originally picked up Tim.

  She arrived a little early and wasn’t surprised to find the place deserted. The warehouse had an opened front, the doors long gone into history. Sam drove into the shed, turned around and killed the headlights and engine. The darkness consumed her immediately and she sat with the window wound down, reminding herself that she was the monster.

  The silence was almost hypnotic as Sam sat and waited for Henderson to show. It was still a good ten minutes before the strike of midnight and she sank a little deeper into the seat, thrumming the wheel in time to “Another One Bites the Dust” as it played in her mind.

  She was about to hop out and walk to the warehouse’s perimeter when something suddenly touched her arm. Thinking a fly or moth, Sam absently brushed at it, felt human fingers and screamed as she turned to stare into the face of Lance Henderson looking back from the darkness.

  “What the hell,” Sam snapped. Henderson looked wildly around, waved his arms about as he tried to quiet her.

  “Keep it down,” he tried to mouth.

  “Lance. We are in the middle of nowhere. Relax.” Fearing for his manly pride, he stood upright, relaxed his shoulders and nodded. “How often do you see Tunney onsite?” Sam asked as she climbed out of the car.

  “Not a lot. He only drops by once or twice a month, if that.”

  “And always meets with Perkins?” He nodded.

  “They usually meet in the refurb building.” Sam looked at him curiously.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Get in. I think it’s time we checked just what sort of work these boys have been doing down there.” Even in the dark, Sam could see Henderson’s eyes grow wider.

  “Are you crazy? We can’t go there.” Sam shook her head.

  “We can and we will. I think Tunney and his crew are the ones murdering prisoners. Perkins has been doing his best to stall any investigation, including throwing the cops off the track. Did you see today’s papers?” Henderson nodded again. “It’s only a matter of time before the cops catch on, but until then, these sons of bitches are running their own private hunting safaris.”

  “What?” Henderson asked. “You’re serious?”

  “Pretty sure. Just not sure why Perkins is allowing it.” Henderson stared off into the distance, his mind working overtime to grasp the gravity of the situation. “And right now, we need to go and check the hunting grounds out for ourselves.”

  It took a little more effort than she first imagined, but eventually, Sam managed to convince Henderson into the car. Once in, she didn’t waste time starting the engine and flooring the small hatchback, getting them moving before he had a chance to change his mind. She knew exactly where she needed to go, following the same path she’d driven the first night she spotted Tunney enter the prison grounds.

  Henderson remained almost silent the entire way, mumbling his objections quietly to himself. Sam smiled to herself in the darkness, wondering what driving next to her did for his manhood. Even just sitting beside him, Sam could see the man was petrified.

  The prison looked just as deserted as the first night she parked her car on top of the hill. The facility sat quietly below them, although now the scattered overhead lamps were doing a poor job of illuminating the complex. The building Sam was interested in sat in complete darkness by the eastern wall, the Sally-port leading directly inside it.

  “Know how we can get inside?” Sam asked.

  “You can’t be serious,” Henderson tried again, but this time Sam let a sliver of rage slip into her words.

  “Toughen the fuck up. We’re going in,” she snapped. Henderson winced a little, then nodded.

  “The roller door is controlled via the control, but I have the override code for the pan
el.”

  “Won’t the control room see the door opening?” Henderson shook his head.

  “The code cancels the signal to the control room. Don’t ask me why, it just does.” Sam began to laugh. Henderson looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What’s so damn funny?” he asked.

  “Of course it cancels the signal to the control room. I bet that’s how Tunney gets in as well. A code, for anytime access.” Sam shook her head in disgust. “Let’s go.”

  The climb down the hill was pretty straightforward and with the patrol car already finished with the first two perimeter sweeps, Sam knew the coast would be clear all the way to the door. Doing her best to remain as close to the wall as possible, the shadows located there shielded them perfectly. With just a sliver of moon overhead, the night served its purpose with near perfection.

  Once by the door, Sam stood back and gestured for Henderson to step forward and do what he needed to. He paused again, unsure of whether to proceed.

  “Trust me,” Sam said, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. He frowned, knowing he would do it even before his fingers began punching the numbers into the electronic number pad.

  The door began to rise with a gentle wisp, sounding more like a home garage than the big industrial slider it really was. Movement suddenly caught Henderson’s eye and as he turned to peer into the darkness, two shapes appeared to hover in the shadows. As they came closer, one of the shadows appeared to wave at them.

  “Hey there, boys,” Sam said confidently. Henderson looked wide-eyed as the two shapes took form, slowly walking towards them. They wore black outfits, topped by black balaclavas with night-vision goggles fixed to their foreheads. Each carried what appeared to be a sub-machine gun, with a pistol strapped to their belts.

  “Miss Rader,” one of the newcomers spoke, the other simply waving.

  “Lance, meet my friends. Doug and Torin, say hi to Lance.” They both waved again and Henderson looked at them, his eyes threatening to drop from their sockets.

  “Who the hell are you people?” was all he could ask.

  With the pleasantries out of the way, the four of them headed inside, then waited for Henderson to close the door again. Doug and Torin each handed over some night-vision goggles, which Sam and Henderson immediately put on.

  Once ready, they quickly took note of where they were. It was a small room, a little larger than a standard double garage. A single door stood before them and that was where they headed once Sam gave the nod.

  While the upper section of the old building appeared untouched, it were the lower floors the group found interesting. Dozens of tunnels and passageways had either been newly built, or unearthed after historical cave-ins and collapses. Around every corner was another junction, offering those trying to make their way through with multiple options.

  Doug made a point for the others to remain close. He said the chances of getting lost were extremely high.

  “What the hell is this place?” Henderson asked, as he and Sam rounded yet another corner.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Sam said. “This is their hunting ground. I’ll bet they’ve been bringing prisoners down here and letting them run free, hunting them like animals before killing them.”

  They looked around in amazement, the endless tunnels offering a multitude of directions. Several portable cages sat against one wall, appearing like make-shift cells. Just as they were about to return to the surface, something rattled overhead, an engine began to fire and the lights throughout the tunnels sprang to life.

  Each of them grabbed their goggles, with Henderson briefly hissing in pain. With the lights on, the scope of the facility was brought into reality, the true size now revealed in all its glory.

  “Fuck,” Henderson snapped. “Someone’s here.”

  Doug gestured for the others to follow and the four of them began to half-run towards one of the corridors. Above them, voices began to fill the air, their tone sounding excited. Sam wondered whether they would be stupid enough to have a third killing in as many nights, but doubted they would be that dumb.

  Despite waiting for the intruders to close in on them, the voices didn’t appear to get any closer, so Sam motioned for the team to close in, instead. Although Henderson tried his best to stop them, Sam soon shoved him forward, following Doug and Torin back to the upper floors.

  As they gained ground, the voices soon became more identifiable and within a few meters, Sam began to recognize them. One was Perkins, of that she was sure. He sounded angry and defensive, another voice she couldn’t identify yelling at him.

  “Why the fuck would you be so stupid as to let her in?” the voice yelled.

  “I had no choice, I swear,”Perkins replied.

  “Kill him now,” another voice cried, to which Perkins simply squealed.

  “No one’s killing anyone right now,” another voice said and this time it was Henderson that paused, recognizing it immediately.

  “What?” Sam asked, whispering into his ear. Henderson simply shook his head and continued on.

  It wasn’t until they were almost in the same room, a huge open space where the original cafeteria had been, that the true extent of the meeting came to light. The group were having a serious interaction with everyone involved. Three people were tied to chairs, two with gags covering their mouths. Perkins was one, while the other two had their backs turned to where Sam and the others were hiding.

  “So what the hell do we do now? Who knows how much these fuckers know,” one of the men said.

  “We simply lie low. No one gives a shit, as long as we keep feeding the cops what they need to hear. Aint that right?” It was Tunney, speaking to someone to his left, the man hidden behind a pillar.

  “The boys’ll be fine as long as the cash keeps coming.”

  Sam looked at Henderson, the man almost shaking with fear. Doug and Torin gave her a nod and instead of agreeing, waved them down. She needed to hear what was going on before running in with all guns blazing.

  “It’s too hot, I tell you,” Perkins cried.

  “Shut the fuck up, you freak,” Tunney snapped. “We’re the only thing keeping your sorry ass out of jail right now. Know what they do to your kind in a place like this?”

  “Fucken kiddie fiddler,” someone else said. Sam stared back at Henderson, finally understanding the hold they had over him.

  “As for this stupid bitch,” Tunney said, taking a pistol from his belt. He pulled the second person off the chair, turned her around and forced her to kneel. “On your knees, dumb cunt.” As the woman looked up, Sam was stunned to see Pam, facing away from them as Tunney put the barrel to the back of her head. One side of her face was blackened, the eye almost completely shut.

  Before she had a chance to speak, Pam’s face disappeared in an explosion of gore, a thin cloud of blood and bone shooting out in a neat arc before her. The blast of the shot rang loud in the enclosed space, enough to hide Sam’s brief gasp.

  “Bury this piece of shit,” Tunney said. Perkins bent forward and began to vomit. “What the hell happened to you? You used to have balls.”

  “Really?” someone else said sarcastically and a couple of others laughed.

  “Why kill her?” Perkins said once he had himself back under control.

  “BECAUSE SHE KILLED THAT GUY ON HER OWN!” Tunney screamed, before swinging a boot into Perkins’s middle. He dropped to the floor and began gasping for breath as the big man turned his attention to the last figure. “And the day after a fucken hunt. Who the hell is so stupid.” He turned towards the third person tied to a chair. “And now to you.”

  He reached forward and pulled the gag down, then took a couple of steps back, before bending over enough to come face-to-face with the seated man.

  “How many more of you are there?” The man remained silent. Tunney removed the gun from his belt again, cocked the hammer and pointed the barrel into the man’s face. “Listen, champ. I don’t know if you noticed, but my fuse is a pretty
short one. I don’t tend to ask questions twice.”

  “Just me,” the bound man said and Sam’s eyes widened as she heard Tim’s voice.

  “Now why do I think you’re lying?”

  “I’m not,” Tim replied, sounding as calm as ever.

  “Then who the fuck is Tami Clark?” Tunney said and Sam felt her cheeks burning, more from anger than anything else. Almost on cue, the voice of Harry returned, as if to taunt her.

  “Get ready for the fun to begin,” he whispered in her mind.

  “I have no idea,” Tim said. Tunney screamed, stepped forward and brought the butt of the pistol down on top of Tim’s head. The sickening crack sounded like hammer on wood. Tim’s body fell forward, then back into the chair as Tunney lifted a boot into his chest.

  Sam looked at Doug, gave him a wink and a nod, then pointed to where the men were standing. Both Doug and Torin nodded back, raised their weapons and prepared to fire.

  “Because I’m going to kill you, its’ not going to matter much, but do you have any idea what you walked in on?” Tunney asked. Tim looked up at the man, his neck craning to see the very top. “Each kill is worth a million in our pocket. A million for the pleasure of hunting these pieces of shit,; these society rejects that nobody cares about. Do you know the amount of people that happily pay to hunt?” Tunney turned back to the four men standing behind him. “I don’t get why those fuckers get looked after so well. Send them to me. I’ll give them something worthwhile to live for. Imagine a world where we could hunt unimpeded.”