by mark mctighe
Leo and Mikey were now in a squad car, travelling fast and negotiating a route through north London. Contact had been made with the Leicestershire Constabulary and local officers were attending.
“We’ve actually got something.” The school’s Project Manager sounded surprised at his own statement.
“What?” Leo spat.
“One of the drivers did think it odd that there was no reinforcement in a small section of the North East corner but, well, it’s not his job so he just ignored it. The JCB’s just about to start digging. He was the third lorry in this morning so I know exactly where we’re looking.”
“Remember he’s in a locker or coffin sized box and we believe he’s got oxygen.” Leo added helpfully.
“I know the depths so we’ll have a go at getting him out of there in one piece.” The call ended, there was a faint vein of optimism in the car.
James Horsham came around slowly. The first thing he noticed was that the box he was in had changed. He also now lay on his back, the wooden lid half a centimetre from his face. A dull light shone down by his feet; a tube hooked into his mouth from a bottle of mineral water alongside; an IPod, speaker and 2 way radio, inaccessible but audible. At first he couldn’t hear the voice clearly; they were just random words, unconnected. Perhaps Simon Wass was standing outside again. His head span in a confused and semi-drugged state. After about half an hour things became much clearer. The pure oxygen he was being fed stimulated his mind; made him feel better than he had for days. And then there was that voice. He began to listen, began to feel sealed, compressed, imagining an over burdening weight on his chest; James Horsham began to pant, something snapped and a moment of knuckle breaking terror followed. He blacked out, all hope syringed out of his emaciated soul.
19. Wass.
Forty five minutes after the JCB had started digging and the coffin was discovered. Two men waded in the setting concrete and forced the lid. They dragged the body through the footings and beyond. They lay Horsham on the grass and flat on his back. His chest rose and fell, unconscious but alive.
The ambulance team checked his vitals, checked for any obstructions then loaded him into the ambulance for the twenty minute ride to Leicester Royal Infirmary. His pulse was thin and erratic.
The relief in Leo’s rapidly approaching car was extraordinary. They’d got half the job done. Now they needed to close the chapter on Simon Wass. Leo spoke to the attending police and arrange for the pupils to be bussed off the property and held at another local school. He arranged for the school to be sealed off. ‘Not just the access roads’ he’d said, ‘we need a perimeter in place.’ The Leicestershire constabulary duly obliged. When a man had killed two police officers nothing was ever too much trouble.
Leo and Mikey were now only half an hour away. Mandy had emailed a photo of Simon Wass, from the ‘All Office’ archives, to the headmaster and printed copies had been passed around the officers present.
“He’s at the school Mikey, I tell you he’s there. This was the king pin for him and he just wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. And another thing, I don’t think he gives a fuck if he’s caught or not. It’s like Scarlett’s Ant Murderer, he’d got his revenge and quite frankly nothing else mattered.” The Ant Murderer reference flew over Mikey’s head, and if it was one of Scarlett’s particularly gruesome tales, then he was pretty sure he’d sleep better if he didn’t hear it. Leo pulled in front of the impressive school architecture and rubbed his hands in anticipation of the hunt.
In Wass’s mind he climbed the steep stone staircase. The very one he’d been pushed down. Wass felt exhausted. He imagined looking East through the window and towards the new sports complex. He was sure he could still hear the radio; the pleading and weeping; unintelligible. Wass relaxed and tried to sleep, his job done, his nightmare finished; revenge exacted. The image of the radio fighting for breath came to mind. He’d conquered his fear of confinement in that one moment of sealing Horsham in for the last, final, time; his claustrophobia had flown. In a strange way he now feared space. Wass curled up on the bed foetal. He tucked the covers around himself.
Wass stared up at the nurse as she lifted the oxygen mask for him to reply.
“The doctors are coming to see you now Mr Horsham, and I’m pleased to say that you don’t need the oxygen anymore. Would you like some water?” Wass looked up into her deep blue eyes. She was beautiful; and it wasn’t the uniform that did it. She was not a bit like his Victoria; not precise and pinned into place. No, the nurse had a sort of anarchic beauty; her hair out of place, her overly large crooked red lips; more womanly than Victoria. But precision was hard to beat in his book. Her name badge flashed in front of him, Cathy, she didn’t look like a Cathy. ‘She looks more exotic than that’ Wass thought. The two doctors had joined him; they were examining their clip boards.
“Any respiratory problems James?” The doctor with the mole on his nose asked. Wass inhaled deeply and let the air seep out ever so slowly.
“No”, Wass shook his head deliberately; Cathy smiled crookedly.
“You’re in remarkably good shape considering........ Considering what you’ve been through James.” The second doctor joined the conversation. “Your physical health is actually fine but we need to be careful; you’re likely to be suffering some emotional trauma. That’s why we’ve arranged a psychological assessment for you in the morning. Cathy will keep looking in on you until then.” They moved on swiftly. Wass didn’t know why there had been two of them. He thought the NHS was trying to save money. ‘Well the first thing they could do is get rid of half the doctors’ he thought.
Wass’s private room looked clean and tidy. He was impressed with the hospital’s management. ‘Someone’s doing something right’ he thought. Wass sat up. The drip had been wheeled away, the oxygen mask now hung on the wall behind the bed. He wasn’t expecting it but he’d been given a second chance. For the first time ever, life had thrown him an opportunity, offered him a hand. By all rights he should be experiencing the emotions and feelings that Horsham was. That was why he’d prepared the two coffins. He’d needed to known how much pain Horsham was feeling, and how else would he have known if the oxygen or the IPod stopped first? He’d needed to sink into oblivion with Horsham but in a bizarre twist of fate he now found himself a free man. Yes he really was free to start again. Cathy wouldn’t be coming back in a hurry to check on him. As the doctors had said, he was in great shape. Wass thought about the rainbow coloured teddy bears. He looked out of the window; it was raining hard. Yes, he’d been given a second chance; he should go back and get them; give them a second chance; then they could all start afresh. A new job; a new name even and certainly a new country. Wass was getting excited at the prospect. He’d always wanted to visit The States, yes, The USA it was, he’d make his way there. Wass stood up and went in search of some clothes. A hospital full of people....... There were certain to be some suitable clothes lying around.
20. ICU.
After two hours nothing had shown up. Leo left the uniforms to continue their search and wandered over to the new concrete foundations of the sports hall. The Project Manager had, with approval, started to clean up the spot where the rescue had been carried out. Leo strode over purposefully and offered a hand. “Leo Dix, we spoke on the phone a couple of times, thanks for your help.”
“It was close.” The man stated the obvious. “Can we shift this coffin now?” He pointed at the wooden box.
“Not yet, I’ll get it taped off. The forensics team are coming to take a look.” Leo replied. ‘It really is a coffin’; Leo stared down, ‘Christ we’ve been lucky’ he thought. A two way radio sat alongside the box. “Is this yours?” Leo pointed at the radio.
“No, ours are yellow.”
The protective glove slipped easily onto Leo’s hand. He picked it up. It had an ‘All Office’ stamp and serial number on the back. ‘You really don’t spend any of your own money, do you Simon?’ Leo thought. The JCB moved away for a tea break and
a now audible crackling sound came from the radio in Leo’s hand. He held it in his open palm and looked enquiringly, disbelievingly at the breathing object. Was it interference? It sounded like short sharp breaths. Leo depressed the red button on the side and spoke. “Hello, are you there Simon?” He released his finger; it was pointless, it was just background noise.
“Help”, weak, “help”, a little stronger. Leo waved Mikey over frantically. “Help, it’s James Horsham” then tears; “I can’t breathe”. He never spoke again; the breathing continued as the concrete set. Mikey appeared at a considerable pace.
“It’s not Horsham at the hospital, it’s got to be Wass; sort it.” Leo barked the orders and Mikey was off again like a scalded cat; cornering a uniform and relaying instructions for Wass to be detained at the hospital. It was now an impossible situation for Horsham, but Leo had to try. If it was Rufus under there he’d try forever.
After ten minutes Mikey drew up alongside Leo. “Guv, he’s gone. He’s now dressed in some brown cords, Viyella checked shirt and blue puffa. The squad cars are doing the rounds to see if they can pick him up.” It was more bad news, and ‘what the hell was Wass doing buried in the concrete? Only Scarlett would have a reasonable explanation for that’ he thought. Leo needed to cut the corner and catch Wass up. ‘He’s a man on the run, where’s he going now?’
Progress on site was terribly slow. A second JCB had arrived but the concrete had changed and the reinforcement was getting in the way. Hopeless, everyone involved in the rescue operation knew he was never going to make it, but still they tried. Leo passed the excavations on to Mikey to oversee. Leo had one thing on his mind...... He wanted Wass. ‘Where were you keeping him for the last 24 hours, Simon?’ Leo caught sight of Ziggy kneeling next to the coffin; he sped over, “Zigs, IPad?”
“Nice to see you too” he fished around in his case and pulled the screen out.
“Can you get me onto Google Maps; overhead view of this school?” Leo fidgeted as Ziggy pulled up the image and scanned out a little to take in the surrounding villages.
“This looks interesting”, Ziggy pointed at a concrete strip and buildings. “Looks like one of those disused airfields. There are cabins everywhere”. Ziggy zoomed in a little. “Actually, look here, it’s a bunch of disused fairground equipment.”
“He’s there” Leo said emphatically; “but he won’t be for long.” He got his bearings, grabbed the occupied Mikey and headed off whilst placing a call to the armed response unit. But Leo knew he couldn’t wait, they’d have to go in now.
“Take it steady” Ziggy blurted out; more mother than work colleague.
The wooden boarding on the sides of the dodgem was heavily weathered; rotten in places; Billy Bart’s Circus could still be interpreted from the panels that remained. A human cannonball dominated the cluster of vehicles and equipment; undoubtedly a draw for the local adolescents. A hundred crushed cans of cheap beer lay scattered alongside the cigarettes smoked to the butt and beyond. Leo and Mikey moved silently, carefully; stab vests and long truncheons their only defence. Their principal strike weapon..... Surprise. There was no noise, no movement; the coaches empty; the two ‘Nissan Hut’ style buildings inaccessible. Then Leo saw it and signalled to Mikey. A white Luton van; Wass was here.
A mumbling, singing; more mumbling from behind a large damaged container; the blue paint peeling and revealing the brown rusty colouring of bare metal. Leo signalled for Mikey to go around and cover the other side. The mumblings became clearer as Leo reached the container doors; large heavy metal doors hung on industrial hinges....... Doors scarred, scored and scorched from the repeated welding and cutting. The only fool proof method of ensuring that the contents remained contents. He was talking now and Leo could hear the echoing words quite clearly from the depths of the container.
“We’re not going to leave you. We said we’d come back and get you and here we are.” Wass’s voice was light and airy, friendly even.
‘Who was he holding now’ Leo thought. There had been no local reports of missing people, children. Yes, he was talking to them as if they were children. Leo’s pulse raced. The mouth of the container was dark and it wasn’t possible, wasn’t advisable to go in. Leo signalled for Mikey to wait. They needed Simon Wass to come to them; springs coiled they waited. It was starting to sound like Wass had a whole family trapped in the back of the lock-up. He was renaming them, but strangely the conversation remained one sided.
The hard leather soles of Wass’s newly acquired footwear tapped their way towards the open doorway. The strike was aimed at the knees; Wass buckled forwards spilling four rainbow coloured teddy bears onto the concrete surface. Leo pulled Wass’s arms behind his back and attached the plastic cuff; then checked him for weapons. Leo turned towards Mikey, “Clear”.
Wass lay prone and in great pain from his shattered knee cap. He refused to let them see his agony. Wass looked across at the rainbow bears. “Looks like you’ll be fending for yourselves then.” He looked up and recognised Leo. “You should be dead”. Wass never uttered another word. As the JCB’s dug, they pushed him hard for four hours. They needed to know where Horsham had been buried. But Wass never even registered that others were there. He sat and stared into space, vacant, uncommunicative, and unforgiving.
21. Miss Sharpe.
“Couldn’t get a word out of him Rufus” Leo continued. “We’re two weeks on and he still hasn’t said a word. Scarlett had a go at getting through. He brought in half a dozen rainbow coloured teddy bears and for a second or two Simon Wass seemed to pay attention; then he was gone again. He’s got right up Scarlett’s nose, you know, the fact that he won’t talk to him, won’t acknowledge Scarlett’s existence........ It’ll preoccupy him until the next one comes along. Is the reception holding good?”
Rufus pulled the phone away from his ear and checked the bars. “Not bad, I’ve stabilised on one bar. I’m hearing most of it Dad, but I think there must be a storm coming in. How’s the face now?”
“Better; give me another month and you’ll hardly be able to tell. At least I’ve been able to take the mask off now.”
“Simone was really upset when she saw the picture you’d sent me. It’s not easy for her Dad.”
“No, I understand....... I need to speak to her...... Look Rufus, look after yourself and as always it’s been great to chat,” the call ended; it had lasted 45 minutes longer than Leo had anticipated and he was now running late. He glanced at his watch then composed a short text; ‘Victoria, on my way, just got held up. Leo X’; life was so.......... difficult.