by M A Comley
“Yes, Mrs Smallwood, any information you can give us about James Boyd will go a long way to help our investigation.”
“Good, good, umm…not that I can really tell you much. I’ve seen him in my street a few times. Croft Road, it is, dear. You’ll need to look it up on the map, I’m in my seventies and not one for giving accurate directions, I’m afraid. And hubby is long gone, so I can’t even hand the phone over to someone else to fill you in either.”
“Don’t worry, I can sort that out. Can I ask if the gentleman in question visited a certain house at all?”
“I couldn’t tell you that. He walked past my window one day, looking over his shoulder and acting suspiciously, which drew my attention. Then he got in a blue car. I know what you’re going to say next, no, I neither know the make nor model of it. I’m sorry to be so useless.”
“Goodness me, you’re far from that, believe me. Your call could be just what we’ve been waiting for to solve this case.”
“Really? I saw you on the TV, and I’ve been sitting here debating whether to ring you or not, thought I’d be wasting your time. What with me not knowing much.”
“Nonsense. We appreciate your call. We haven’t had many and were beginning to get concerned.”
“Oh, in that case, I’m glad I took the plunge.”
“If I can just take your details for our records. We’ll look into the information you’ve given us.”
Mrs Smallwood gave her address and phone number and added, “I hope this doesn’t come back and bite me in the bum. I’m all for helping folks out but I’ve never snitched to the police before. That is the right term, isn’t it?”
“It is. Although, I wouldn’t class what you’ve just told me as snitching. I can’t thank you enough for contacting us. Promise me you’ll stay vigilant, and if you should see this man in your area in the near future, will you call us?”
“Oh, I will that. I thought I’d be nervous speaking to an officer of the law, but I must say, you have a nice way about you, my dear.”
“Thank you. I do my best. Enjoy your evening, Mrs Smallwood.”
“I’ll do that now I’ve relieved myself of such a burden. Thank you and good luck.”
Charlie ended the call and left her desk. “Graham, I’ve taken an interesting call from a sweet old lady.”
“Is there any other type? Oh, wait, I take that back. I remember what my foul-mouthed gran used to be like. Sorry, I digress, you were saying, Charlie?”
She smiled and shook her head. “You’re nuts. Anyway, adding to what we learnt earlier, about the car disappearing in the Whitechapel area, she lives in Croft Road. Can you bring it up on the map, see how close it is to where the car went missing?”
He tapped a few keys and zoomed in on the map. “Croft Road, ah, here it is. Yeah, it’s not far, not far at all, in fact.”
“I’m going to run it past DCI Roberts.”
At that moment, he chose to come out of the office and caught the tail end of their conversation. “What’s that?”
Charlie ran through what they’d uncovered. “What do you think we should do now, sir, bearing in mind the restrictions we have in place?”
“Hogwash. We forget about them for the time being. We’ve got a serial killer on the loose, and it’s imperative we bring the shit down. Let’s get some patrol cars doing what they do best in the area and see what that brings.”
Charlie grimaced and then tutted. “What if he’s changed his car by now?”
Roberts groaned. “Then we’re up the proverbial creek, aren’t we? Get the patrol cars organised, Charlie. Then I think we should call it a day.”
Charlie’s eyes were drawn to the clock on the wall.
“Something wrong, DC Simpkins?” Roberts followed her gaze.
“Umm…no, sir. I was wondering what the time was, that’s all. Gosh, is it that late already? Doesn’t time fly when—?”
“Yes, yes. It may only be five-forty, but I think we should go home all the same.”
Graham glanced at Charlie. She saw him turn his head her way, but her focus remained on Roberts.
“What is it, Graham?” DCI Roberts demanded. “I’m getting the distinct impression that none of you have homes to go to, am I wrong?”
“It’s just that…” Graham started and stopped.
“It’s just that we need to be around to man the phones, sir, you know, what with the press conference going out on the evening news,” Charlie finished off for her colleague who seemed relieved at her interjection.
“Oh yes. You’re right. Well, in my eyes it’s only going to need one person to remain behind, and only for a maximum of two hours. Who’s up for the job?”
Charlie grinned. “I’ll happily volunteer, sir.”
“What utter nonsense. You have swatting up to do this evening for your important exam tomorrow, or had you forgotten about that, Simpkins?”
“Hardly, sir. I could do all my revision here, while I answer the calls.”
He blew out a breath. “Very well, if that’s how you want to go about things, who am I to argue with you? The rest of you can pack up and go home.”
He left the incident room before anyone else could argue the toss with him.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Patrick whispered, “Is he for real? We’re closing in on a serial killer, and he wants us to put the brakes on and piss off home. What the fuck?”
Charlie shook her head. “It’s the cuts driving his decision, I’m sure it is. You guys go, leave me to man the phones.”
Karen shook her head. “That’s not fair on you, Charlie. You’ve got important revision to do this evening. Let me stay here and you go home.”
“Honestly, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I wasn’t planning on revising that much anyway to tell you the truth. I’ll hang around until eight as instructed and then call it a day.”
The team despondently switched off their equipment, and reluctantly left her to it.
Charlie found the empty incident room eerie to begin with. She shuddered as a cool breeze swept past her half an hour later. She shot out of her chair, a prominent thought in her mind. She glanced at the door, making sure it was shut and asked, “Pete, is that you?” She recollected the stories her mother used to tell her regarding her former partner always being present. She sniffed the air. A faint smell of aftershave wafted under her nose, and she knew he was close by. She’d regarded Pete as an uncle figure when she was younger, he’d been a good man. Why was he here? To protect her? Or had he come to take her with him?
She shook the ghastly thought from her head. No, not the latter, please, not that!
The faintest of laughs spooked her. Is he reading my mind? Can spirits do that? Where’s Carol when I need her?
Charlie flipped open her revision folder and concentrated on that, instead of trying to figure out things that were beyond her.
Just like that, Pete seemed to disappear. The phone on her desk rang, and she almost leapt out of her seat. “DC Simpkins, how can I help?”
The caller was one of those nuisance calls she’d heard so much about. The young man ended the conversation with a laugh and hung up, leaving her frustrated as she crossed through the information he’d spent five minutes giving her.
“Fucking dipshit!” The rest of the evening proved to be a disappointment. Maybe the chief was right in his thinking, ordering the staff to go home early. She packed up at around eight and left the station.
Now all she had to do was go home, rustle up some dinner and get a good night’s sleep. She had a feeling sleep wouldn’t be on the agenda, not with her mind whirling up a storm before her exam.
9
Boyd was on the prowl again. He’d followed the two men to the pub. Laughed when he saw the two uniformed coppers get out of their car and take up their positions on either side of the main entrance.
“The guys always did like their drink. Fancy dragging the coppers along with them. What a waste of police time.”
; What are you going to do? Sit here and wait for them to come out?
“What other option do I have? I can’t go in there and do the deed, can I?”
It sucks either way. It’s a cold December evening, we should be tucked up at home in front of a roaring open fire.
“You do talk a load of shit at times. That squat is colder than the damn car. I can’t wait for all this to be over and to get back to the house. It might not be much, but at least it was comfortable.”
Fecking idiot, as if you’ll be able to go back there after what you’ve done!
“Correction, what we’ve done. You’re just as responsible as me. In fact, you’re the one who drove me to kill the others. All I wanted to do was have some fun, for them to regret their actions.”
Where would the fun have been in that? Glad to see you’ve finally grown a pair. Shame you didn’t kill Dad sooner, while we’re on the subject of growing a pair.
“He got what was coming to him in the end. I was biding my time. I needed to make it look convincing. Poisoning him was the only plausible way I could think of to get rid of the old bastard.”
It wasn’t good enough. If I’d had my way, he would have been kept in an underground storage unit and tortured to within an inch of his life every goddamn day after what he did. Sticking his dick up your arse like that. Fucking sick shit.
Boyd swallowed down the acid burning his throat. “Did you have to remind me of that? Why do you do it? Why can’t you leave things alone?”
Furthermore, you should have cut it off and forced him to eat that vile wrinkled sausage of his.
“Enough, I don’t want to think about him. He got what was due to him. Why do you have to keep raising the subject all the time?”
Because I like to poke you with a stick. Not a dick like he used to, no, a stick. You need to get rid of your softer side and start treating people the way they should be treated. The way they treat you. Disrespectfully. What your colleagues did to you was nothing more than a disgrace.
“Don’t you think I know that? Which is why I’ve set out on this reckless path. To punish those who felt it right to treat me like an idiot. To ditch me in favour of that bitch despite my success record and years of experience. Well, I showed them, didn’t I?”
Sort of. You still have these two to see to and then you can go off and live life to the fullest again. Whores and drink and debauchery, I think that should be in your future. I’m up for it anyway.
Boyd laughed. “Does anyone say debauchery these days? You’re crazy. No, I want the opposite. I’ll sell everything. If the coppers won’t allow me to do that, then I’ll leave the house and take off.”
And live on what? You clearly haven’t thought things through, as usual.
“Then I’ll rob a bank or swindle some money out of an investor. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
Now you’re talking!
His inner voice died down, and he rested his head back, his gaze fixed on the front door. An hour later, he saw one of the coppers reach for his mobile. Was that a signal? He snatched up his rifle and took up his position from the rear of the car park. He’d specifically chosen this spot, far enough away that the coppers wouldn’t detect him and close enough to be within range to take the shot and drive away before they had a chance to know what hit them. Excitement mixed with fear coursed through his veins. He peered through the sniper scope and placed his finger on the trigger. The coppers glanced over their shoulders, one facing the pub and the other facing the car park. There was definite movement up ahead.
The second Ben and Steve emerged, his hand shook.
Don’t you dare back down, not after you’ve come so far.
“I won’t. Shut the fuck up and let me concentrate.”
The coppers walked them back to the vehicle, one on either side of the two men. Boyd fired off two quick rounds. Ben immediately dropped to the ground. The coppers tried to shield Steve, but it was too late. Boyd took aim a second time and fired off another couple of shots. The coppers lay on the ground, their bodies flung across the two men. He started the car, purposefully kept the lights off and drove quietly out of the car park, keeping to the rear of the other parked vehicles. It wasn’t until he reached the main road that he switched on the lights and floored the accelerator.
He drove a few feet then steered the car into an alley he’d spotted earlier and, turning in his seat, he watched three patrol cars whizz past him, their sirens wailing like crazed cats and their blue lights illuminating the dense night surrounding him. He remained in the same location for the next twenty minutes and then slipped onto the main road again and headed back to the squat. A few roads away, he decided it would be best to dump the car and steal another one. Was he taking a risk doing it in his own backyard?
Boyd was past caring. He wouldn’t be sticking around here much longer anyway, now that everyone had been dealt with.
10
Charlie had just arrived home when the desk sergeant rang her. “Hi, yes, I can attend. Give me the address. Were the officers injured?”
“No, they escaped injury. Sorry my guys let you down, or should I say, the victims down.”
“He’s a determined killer, your guys were lucky not to get harmed. What were they doing in the pub?”
“The men insisted they needed a drink to calm their nerves.”
“Jesus, what is wrong with people? Okay, I’m on my way. Crap, I have a dilemma now, who should I call for assistance, DI Foster or DCI Roberts?”
“I didn’t know either, hence the reason I called you,” Mick confessed.
“Leave it with me. I’ll call Roberts, see what he says.” Charlie disconnected and immediately rang Roberts. “Hi, I’m very sorry to disturb you, sir, but I have a quandary.”
“Charlie, do you realise what the time is?”
“I do, which is why I apologised about disturbing you. The thing is, there’s been another shooting.”
“What? Where? And yes, you’ve done the right thing getting in touch with me. Why the hesitation?”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d handed the reins over to Katy or not yet.”
“No, that’ll happen in the morning.”
“I see. I’m on my way to the crime scene.”
“Where?”
“Outside a pub, the Wheatsheaf on Saunders Road. Do you know it?”
“As it happens, I do. I’ll meet you there.” Roberts ended the call.
Charlie raced upstairs to get changed and came back down to Brandon waiting for her at the front door. He was holding her coat out for her. She slipped her arms into it and kissed him. “I’m so sorry to be running out on you, again.”
“Charlie, don’t be, it goes with the job, right? I understand that. Do you think it’ll get any easier once you’re a sergeant?”
She pulled on one ankle boot and then the other and kissed him again. “I doubt it, it’ll probably be a darn sight worse, knowing my luck.”
His face dropped. “In that case, I think we’ll need to sit down and have a proper chat about our future at the weekend.”
“What? You’re dumping this on me now? When I have to attend another murder scene? Okay, we’ll talk soon. Just remember one thing, Brandon, before you think about calling off our engagement.”
“What’s that?”
“I love you. I might not always show it but I regard you as my rock. There, I’ve said it.” She pecked him on the lips and rushed out of the front door. Glancing over the roof of the car, she saw him hesitate for a few seconds before he went back inside.
She tried to set aside her personal problems and concentrated on her driving instead. She failed, and her thoughts turned to her mother’s situation and how she had coped all those years being married to her father. She hadn’t realised at the time how much of a bastard he’d been to her. Brandon wasn’t from the same mould as her father, he was a much more placid person. She hoped they could get past this sticky patch. If not, she’d focus on her career for the next ten years and s
ee where that led her. Easy come, easy go, life was too short to be downhearted all the time.
Arriving at the scene, she sought out DCI Roberts who was already organising the uniform team to guard the pub, ensuring the punters remained inside rather than gawping at the victims.
“I’m here at last, sir. Sorry for the delay, traffic!”
“It doesn’t matter. The good news is that we’re dealing with one victim. Ben Thompson has been whisked off to hospital with life-threatening wounds.”
“Damn. Sorry one of them didn’t make it.”
“Can you collaborate with the pathologist—not sure I have anything to say to her at present—while I continue barking out the orders and coordinating the taking down of statements?”
“Leave it with me.” Charlie went in search of Patti.
“We meet again, and so soon.” Patti rolled her eyes. “I take it the victim, and the one who was taken to hospital, both worked at Zedex?”
“They did. They’re the last known colleagues of the murderer. The question is, what is he going to do next?”
“Who bloody knows if he can take two people out under the noses of uniformed coppers?”
“That was my thinking. This is over my head.” Charlie kicked out at a stone close to her foot and sent it hurtling towards a car a few feet away. It hit the metal wheel trim and tinged.
Patti tapped her upper arm with a fisted hand. “Hey, you can pack that in. Don’t go taking this personally. I’ll let you in on a secret.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “I’m listening.”
Patti crossed her arms, her paper suit rustling. She lowered her voice so only Charlie could hear. “It’s beyond me, too. I mean, we all get ticked off at work from time to time, but how many of us go around killing off any colleagues who have wronged us? The answer is not many, not from what I’ve seen anyway.”