Remorseless: A British Crime Thriller (Doc Powers & D.I. Carver Investigate #1)

by Will Patching

  John listened as various individuals were interviewed, all spouting the same rhetoric: life should mean life, our prison system is too soft, why was this man paroled?

  Right now, he could not agree more.

  The upside down face was thrust into his own, filling his universe, mad eyes wide, a lopsided grin on the battered lips, cheeks blue-green and swollen from bruising.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got a celebrity house guest. I’m famous. Good job I had my face re-shaped. I look nothing like that photo! Still, you don’t mind if I borrow some of your hair dye do ya? You bloody pooftah.’

  The celebrity house guest left him, and John allowed himself to wallow in his terror, self-pity and hopelessness.

  Why was this happening to him?

  ***

  ‘What d’you think Doc?’

  DI Carver and Doc were back at Leech’s apartment, both of them on the balcony overlooking the Thames.

  ‘He bought the telescope and the mobile phone for a purpose Jack.’ Doc pointed across the river. ‘I’ve been to that office building, it’s where his brother Shaun works.’

  ‘So why did he lob it off here onto his neighbour’s car?’ Carver leaned out, peering at the road below. ‘We know from the receipt he only bought it Friday. The guy reported his car vandalised that evening. Doesn’t seem very rational to me...’ He straightened and made a face at Doc.

  ‘Mmm.’ Doc pondered on that too. ‘His brother was out of his office all day Friday.’ Doc scooped up the boxed mobile and handed it to Carver. ‘Leech wanted to watch his brother. Talk to him with this. Observe how he reacted through the telescope.’

  ‘Whoa, Doc. I know he’s not exactly been a model parolee, but the moment he contacted his brother we’d have been here arresting him. Terms of his license – no contact with his brother or the man’s family. To be honest, I’m surprised they let him live so close.’

  ‘London’s a big place. We couldn’t ban him from the whole city on the off chance he would bump into his brother.’ Doc lifted his shoulders, spread his hands, explained, ‘Four hundred metres from the office, that’s the boundary. We’re probably not much more than that here are we?’

  Carver shook his head. ‘He’s allowed out, sets himself up here to spy on big brother, wants to phone him... Taunt him? But I still don’t get it. Shaun would call us and have him back inside in a flash.’

  ‘Would he?’ Doc’s question was aimed at himself, not the detective, but Carver answered.

  ‘Why not? He objected to the parole, and with good reason. Surely he would be delighted to see his brother behind bars again?’

  Doc chose not to answer that question, allowing himself time to chew it over. Instead, he said, ‘The telescope must be enough to warrant some protection for Shaun Leech and his family.’

  ‘Sorry. It’s out of my hands anyhow. There’s a taskforce being set up to hunt Leech down. I’ve been sidelined, though I’m still on it,’ he grumbled. ‘They want you to liaise with them directly. And I doubt you’ll convince them to put his brother under protective observation.’

  ‘Tell them I will only liaise with you.’ Doc’s stomach flipped at the thought of being dragged back into the full team on a major operation. He had been there, done that. ‘No more politics for me Jack. I also hate having to educate everyone involved. I’m not going to do it.’ He tapped a finger on Carver’s arm as he said, ‘I’ll only act as a consultant to you. Fair enough?’ Doc knew it would give Jack some leverage, some elbow to regain his status within the operation.

  ‘Thanks Doc. They’ll go for that. They could get another profiler, sure, but you’ve got personal experience of our man and a track record second to none... I still doubt they’ll give Shaun Leech protection though.’

  ‘He won’t want it anyway.’ Doc saw Carver’s face scrunch in confusion. He shared his thoughts. ‘I said the other day that Peter Leech had threatened his brother and you told me I was reaching.’

  ‘Yeah. What’d he say? My brother’s dead?’

  ‘Uh-huh. They both said it. Shaun after the trial and Peter at his parole hearing.’

  ‘Now what? You saying they want to kill each other? That Shaun Leech would refuse protection to draw his brother to him!’ Carver pointed at Shaun’s office block. ‘His parents died at the hands of his lunatic brother. He knows what his brother’s capable of. The man’s a suit – a business consultant for chrissake. You think he would go head to head with psycho-sibling? You think he’s got a death wish?’ Carver turned away, his expression doubtful.

  ‘Phone him. You’ve got his number. Call him now. Ask him how he would feel about protection.’

  ‘We can’t promise him that Doc!’

  ‘Don’t offer it. Tell him the truth. That it’s a possibility we would consider if he requested it, if and when we feel the threat is justified. It’s his choice whether to accept. We need to know how he’d feel about that.’

  Carver said nothing, flipped open his phone and made the call.

  Doc thought things through, tuning out Carver’s conversation as he was convinced he knew the outcome. He considered the relationship between the Leech boys. Shaun had told him outright he would kill his murderous brother if he came near his family. Certainly Shaun believed himself capable... Had told Doc how he sometimes wondered if it was in his genes.

  ‘You really spook me with this shit sometimes Doc.’ Carver joined him on the balcony again. ‘On the strength of a busted telescope you make leap to his brother not wanting protection. How the fuck did you do that?’

  Doc allowed a little smugness to creep into his voice – he had not lost his touch, despite everything he had been through. ‘The telescope was smashed in a fit of rage, as was the table top.’ Doc pointed at the broken glass, then to the new mobile. ‘He wanted to speak to his brother, let him know he was hunting him. Wanted to see how Shaun responded. Wanted to see his brother scared.’

  ‘And he knew his brother wouldn’t call us? How?’

  Doc eyed him, his own face quizzical, mirroring Carver’s expression.

  ‘Now that is something we need to find out... There’s more between these two than meets the eye. Let’s head back to the station. There are some things I’d like to research.’

  ***

  ‘The recording. The Judy Finch interview. What did that tell you?’ Carver drove through the London traffic, manoeuvring into the bus lane to speed their progress.

  ‘Rather less than I hoped.’ Doc had been horrified at the content, the man’s blasé attitude, the manipulative nature of his exposés of prison life, obviously scripted to wrench Judy’s heart strings. Doc had also checked on some of the things Leech had stated as fact. ‘It confirms he’s a compulsive liar. I think he may even believe some of his own fictions.’

  ‘Sounds like a screwball to me Doc. You still pronounce him sane, if he can’t tell fact from fiction?’

  ‘False memory syndrome is not insanity. Sane, in the legal sense, is a term used to determine if someone is fit to be punished, or whether treatment is more appropriate.’

  ‘Too right he needs some sort of treatment. An injection, maybe. A lethal injection.’ He grinned humourlessly. ‘The yanks have the right idea when it comes to dealing with his type.’

  Doc ignored the comment, knew too well Jack’s views on capital punishment and would not be drawn into that argument.

  ‘Peter Leech really may not know if he murdered his folks.’ Something about the claim from Leech that his brother framed him fluttered into Doc’s brain. What? He was not sure. ‘He was in therapy as a boy. I don’t remember a therapist testifying at the trial.’

  ‘No.’ They arrived at the station and Carver opened his door, paused half in, half out. ‘They didn’t need him. You testified as to Leech’s state of mind.’

  ‘Was he interviewed?’

  ‘No. At the time they decided it wasn’t necessary, and anyway, the guy had suffered a stroke around the time of the murder, if my memory serves.’ Carver ease
d out of the car and slammed the door.

  Doc remained inside, staring out the windscreen, making no move to follow. Carver grew impatient, went to his door, tugged it open.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘The therapist. What happened to him?’ Doc dragged himself out. ‘Did he recover?’

  ‘No idea. Why?’

  ‘Oh. It may be nothing... but I’d like to meet him.’

  ‘Is it really that important?’ When Doc did not reply Carver stomped off to try to track the therapist while Doc headed to his office, continuing his research into the man they were hunting.

  The Judge called as he opened the file. ‘I’m having a dreadful day Doc. This Leech affair is throwing everything out. Worse, the Home Secretary carpeted me for recommending paroling Leech in the first place.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve not had a rollicking like that since school.’

  ‘Aren’t we supposed to be independent of the politicians?’

  ‘That’s irrelevant. I’m the whipping boy. And if you still want my job in a couple of years then you had better get used to the idea.’

  Doc could tell his boss was tired, and crotchety too. Not surprising since he had lost two staff to the Leech affair – initially himself, and now Judy.

  ‘Have you managed to reschedule everything?’ He felt guilty, but there was no option. He was obliged to help find Leech, after all, he had paroled him. There was also the issue with Judy... She was in danger, so he had two powerful reasons to focus on the hunt. The self-justification did not help. He felt sorry for the Judge and the extra load he had placed on his boss.

  ‘We’ll cope. Although Judy did call.’

  ‘And?’ Doc sensed some bad news.

  ‘She said she is available for work. I’ve scheduled her back in for the hearings she was due to undertake this week. She has her divorce hearing tomorrow too.’ The Judge sounded businesslike as he added, ‘Sorry Doc. She told me you wouldn’t approve but she was adamant.’

  ‘That’s okay. Thanks for the call.’ He hung up.

  Damn you Judy.

  She was supposed to be at his home, under police protection. He had needed to agree it as part of a decoy plan. He had recommended that a female police officer, with a passing resemblance to Judy, should stay in her apartment in the hope that Leech would appear there. A team of officers would stake out the house.

  Not much point if the real Judy was wandering round, showing her face everywhere.

  She had spent the night at his house, but objected to being kept prisoner there. He thought he had convinced her when he left that morning. Clearly not.

  In a way, he was proud of her. But his overriding concern was for her safety. He called her.

  ‘Look, I’m going mad here Colin. Josh and I are bored. He wants to go to school tomorrow. And I am going back to work too.’

  He imagined how she looked, het-up, the red splotches on her cheeks. Warmth spread through him at the thought. She was a true English rose – beautiful to look at but prickly as hell.

  ‘Okay. I understand. But you be careful.’

  ‘Think about it. I’ll be in closed sessions at our office or at prisons... I’m hardly likely to bump into him there am I?’

  ‘True.’ He felt a little better... She would be okay.

  ‘And the police have agreed to escort Josh to and from school. Please don’t worry about us. Just catch him. Soon.’

  Well, he was doing his best. He returned to his files, searching for enlightenment.

  ***

  ‘School tomorrow sunshine.’ Judy ruffled Josh’s hair as they snuggled on the sofa in Doc’s lounge. They were watching their third video of the day, microwaved popcorn half eaten in bowls in front of them. She kissed her son’s head, inhaled his scent.

  ‘Brill! Are we going home mummy?’

  ‘Not just yet sweetheart.’ He must be petrified, she reasoned despite her efforts to reassure him, to keep the full details from him.

  She had told him that there was a tiny chance that a bad man from prison might visit their house. So they were moving into Colin’s home for a few days while the police caught the man. From those sparse facts Josh had somehow divined that his mummy was in danger and he had cried last night, tearing her soul with his great gut-wrenching sobs of fear.

  It must be the divorce too, she decided. Losing his father, in a way, especially if she got her way at the hearing. Poor Josh, first losing his daddy and now facing the prospect of losing his mummy. Oh well, she thought, we’ll just have to snuggle again tonight.

  Her eyes roved to the picture of Doc with Natalie. He had even asked her if she minded, if she would prefer he put it away where she could not see it. She had pecked him on the lips, told him, of course not, not to be so silly, Natalie had been a big part of his life, that she understood.

  And now she wanted to be the biggest part of his life. She smiled at the photo, Doc’s boyish face splitting in a smile, the love and affection radiating from them both.

  She drew a juddering breath, felt her boy nuzzle closer in response, wondering if her son was trying to comfort her, allay her fears. She gave him a squeeze and then shuffled her thoughts back to Doc and Natalie.

  No. It was not jealousy, but a different emotion she felt. Such a shame she had to sleep with Josh tonight... It was the perfect opportunity to move things on with Colin. Her stomach tingled at the thought.

  She hugged her son closer, ashamed of herself. There would be plenty of time for that later.

  Then she began to wonder, was Doc overreacting, out of his feelings for her? He had listened to the recording last night, checked her notes and quizzed her about the interview. He had then pronounced himself satisfied that Leech thought he’d made some connection with her, that he could be obsessing over her, that Birdy and Finch were too close to ignore. He had justified the move to his home, said he would try to convince them to put a decoy in her apartment.

  But still she wondered, just how serious was this threat to her? How can a man, admittedly one with limited experience and zero availability when it came to women, believe, after speaking with her for just two hours, that he could be in love with her?

  Despite Colin’s explanation she had her doubts. She had pushed him until he had admitted it was not definitive, although he fell short of admitting he could be wrong about the whole thing. No, just that it may not be as serious an obsession as he thought likely.

  They both hoped so.

  Except in Judy’s mind, a maggot of doubt wriggled, munching away at her reassuring logic, gradually exposing a half-remembered comment at the end of the interview. She tried to put herself back in that room, mentally reliving the meeting, Josh now asleep on her lap.

  What had he said, after she had stopped the recorder, while she was packing up to go?

  Then it came to her. He had asked her out.

  Oh Christ!

  That was it. She hadn’t told Colin, they had been so focussed on the recording, the transcript, her notes, with her mind blocking the memory anyway. Should she call him, tell him now?

  No. It would only worry him more. What was the point?

  But she knew, with absolute certainty, Doc was right. A connection had been made. Leech wanted her.

  She found herself holding on to her son, his warm body close to her chest, chilled despite his body heat.

  The maggot continued wriggling, chewing away, finally forcing her to recall Leech’s parting words, uttered after she had refused to meet him outside of prison.

  We’ll see.

  ***

  Doc’s eyeballs were in meltdown by the time Carver arrived with coffee later in the afternoon.

  ‘Eff Plo!’ He said it with a toothy smile as he entered.

  Doc assumed he had misheard, but the detective went on, ‘F.P.L.O. That’s me. The Met’s one and only Forensic Psychiatrist’s Liaison Officer. It’s official. I’m back on the inside track thanks to you Doc. I’m grateful. I’ve been in the doghouse lately with the PTBs. Got caught with my pa
nts down. Literally. She was worth it though!’

  Doc shrugged and smiled, too preoccupied with Leech to probe Jack for more.

  Carver placed a cup in front of Doc, sipped his own and tapped the files with a finger.

  ‘The court transcripts? What are you hoping to find there?’

  Doc was not yet ready to share his suspicions with Carver, but what he had found was adding plausibility to an idea he had been loath to give credence.

  ‘Did you find anything out about the therapist?’

  Carver appeared to have forgotten his own question – he knew Doc moved in mysterious ways.

  ‘Yeah. Name’s Henley. He hasn’t practised since his stroke. He says he’s reasonably fit but he’s nearly seventy now. Will be happy to see you, though he doesn’t know what you expect from him.’ Carver was curious but if he was expecting enlightenment he would have to wait.

  Doc merely asked, ‘Can I see him? Today? Now?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Carver chuckled. ‘That important huh?’ Still nothing from Doc. ‘It’s a drive, just south of Bristol. You can take my car. I warned him you would want to see him. Said he’s usually available as he has nothing much to do these days. I’ll call and confirm you’re on your way.’ He fished in his pocket for the car key. ‘Probably a couple of hours drive Doc. If you leave now you should just about miss rush hour.’

  ‘No time to lose then.’ Doc gulped his coffee, grimaced as he swallowed the lukewarm gunk, and followed Jack out. ‘If I can have the file and the address I’ll get going.’

  ***

  While Doc threaded his way through city traffic Carver spoke to Henley, confirming he had a visitor on the way, then called Doc. ‘No problem. He’s expecting you between five and six.’

  That gave Doc a couple of hours alone, time to let his brain sift all the information he had absorbed over the last few days. He disliked driving, found it a chore, and since the accident he had been reluctant to get behind the wheel again.