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

by Will Patching

  Shaun, subdued, but not completely out, made the error of speaking again. ‘Don’t listen sweetheart. He’s a mad – ’

  Peter whipped round and jammed the stock of the gun into Shaun’s mouth, breaking his front teeth, shutting him up. Shaun spat blood and tooth fragments to the floor.

  Peter spoke softly now. ‘I’m quicker too. They called me the Snake, in prison, I struck that fast. You should be careful. Snakes can kill.’

  Suzie let out a wail, a garbled plea. ‘Billy... Not hurt him... Kill me...’

  He stroked her head. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve had a change of plan. First I want you to know what really happened.’

  ‘Don’t listen to him sweetheart...’

  The gun was hoisted once more and delivered to Shaun’s other kneecap with devastating force. Peter had to let him finish screaming before he could continue his heart to heart with Suzie.

  ‘He raped you that day. I came back, caught him, and he beat me shitless! Then he convinced my father it was me. And you believed him!’ He could see her doubt, her loyalty to Shaun too strong. His words unconvincing.

  ‘Not true. You... always... liar!’ Her voice strengthened and faded as she gasped the words out.

  ‘Tell her, you bastard.’ He went to Shaun, who was no longer the cocky big brother he had feared. He poked the barrel under Shaun’s chin, lifting his head with it. ‘That’s if you don’t want me to revisit your knees.’ He placed his other hand on Shaun’s shattered right kneecap. His brother winced at the touch, his face blanching at the pressure. ‘Tell her.’

  Shaun hesitated. It was enough. Peter gripped the fractured bone fragments, twisted hard. Shaun screeched and fainted.

  ‘Who’s the wimp now big bruvver?’ Peter went to the bathroom, soaked another towel, returned and wrung it over Shaun’s head. Shaun roused, but was not fully conscious. Peter slapped him a few times.

  Shaun’s focus returned from some dreadful distant place, defeated. Humbled, bettered by his brother.

  ‘Now tell her.’

  Peter did not need to touch his brother now, the confession dribbled from his lips, a statement of fact. No apology, no emotion.

  ‘Yeah, I fucked you that day Suzie. I was sick of seeing you with him. I wanted you and I could see you wanted me... Okay? What’s the big deal anyway? You were unconscious.’

  ‘Shaun I know that’s not true!’ Suzie was appalled, denying it still, her words forceful as she regained full alertness. ‘He made you say that.’

  ‘YOU CUNT!’ Peter whirled on her, the gun butt raised to crush her face, to stop that stupid mouth speaking, accusing him again.

  He stopped himself.

  I’m in control.

  He panted, rapid breaths, trying to bring himself back, finally gaining the upper hand on his fury and frustration. He let the gun fall to his side. ‘No one ever believes me. But it’s true. Your hubby killed our parents too, Suzie.’

  ‘Noooooo!’ Suzie’s face twisted in disbelief and horror at what she was hearing. ‘Not possible... Shaun?’ She looked from one brother to the other and back.

  Peter went back to Shaun, stroked a knee with his hand. ‘The truth Shaun. Tell your little wifey the truth.’ He needed little prompting now.

  ‘Oh fuck you! Both of you... Yes I killed them.’ He spat more blood from his mashed mouth. ‘Happy now little brother? And it’s not as if you could give a shit about our parents.’ He glanced over at Suzie. ‘We both hated them.’ His brittle laugh cracked in his throat. He glared at Peter now, defiant. ‘And you got locked up, you sap.’

  Peter tapped a brief tattoo on Shaun’s knee with his knuckles, let his brother keen with the pain, then said, ‘This is what you married Suzie. A killer. He’d been planning it for years. Told me he would set it up to look like burglary.’

  He was back, looming over her, peering down at her. ‘He’s such a lying cunt. Told me we’d both be rich. I would’ve been happy with half, but no – ’

  ‘I wanted it all. And I got it!’ Shaun the braggart resurfaced. ‘You were just a junkie. A fucking waster, squandering the money on booze and drugs.’

  Peter addressed Suzie, determined she should know the truth, could see she was becoming convinced. Saw how she was looking at Shaun, as if she did not know what to think of him anymore, anger and fear mingling behind her eyes. ‘Shaun even convinced my parents to defer my trust fund. It was supposed to be my motive. What bullshit! It also meant he got even more money when he killed them. He’s a clever fucker. But I’m better.’

  Peter was happy now. At last someone, someone he once wanted for himself, believed him. Believed the truth. It was what he came for. He put the gun to Shaun’s cheek, his finger tickling the trigger.

  Then Suzie spoke, her strength returning with the revelations, but her voice still tremulous. ‘I loved you Shaun... Now I don’t think I ever knew you at all.’

  ‘Oh stop whining, you pathetic bitch. I’ve had it with your endless whingeing. God knows, there have been many times I could have happily topped you myself.’

  ‘You... don’t mean that...’ She started to weep.

  Peter watched, satisfied that despite her initial doubt she was starting to understand how she had wasted her life by marrying his brother.

  Shaun looked at her with disgust, then grinned his bloody lips at Peter and said, ‘Do me a favour. Give her a whack and shut her up... That’s about your level isn’t it baby brother? How about you cut me loose? I’m legless. It’d almost be a fair fight. I’ll still kill you...’ He hawked and spat more muck.

  Peter considered it. It was an attractive proposition. But he didn’t want to kill his brother... And certainly not like that.

  ‘No. I’ve got a much better idea.’ He noticed Suzie’s weeping had intensified at Shaun’s callous words, and thought: Good. You deserve it you heartless slut. He really didn’t fancy her any more.

  ‘I thought I’d want to fuck you Suzie. But I don’t. You’re past it. You need some surgery too. And I reckon I can help with that.’ He mopped his face with the towel again. The bleeding had eased. His forehead, eye sockets and cheeks felt numb, but otherwise his whole head throbbed. No problem, he would have another joint later.

  ‘I was going to share it with you.’ Shaun held his head back and was looking down his nose at his brother, despite being seated.

  Peter shook his head, a bull dislodging tiresome flies. ‘So now you want me to believe you really wanted to cut me in... Bollocks!’

  ‘It’s true. I thought we’d concoct a story of how I came back and disturbed a burglar. I was going to have to stab you, wound you, of course.’

  ‘But then you had a better idea?’ Peter wanted to hear his reason, waited, hands on hips, amazed at Shaun’s neck.

  ‘Fraid so. I went a bit over the top with the knife. And then I saw you in the shower. It struck me that the police might not believe our prepared fiction – a phantom attacker who was never caught... They’d have eventually sussed it. Then we’d both have been inside. I couldn’t have that.’ It was a bald statement, without malice.

  Suzie, her weeping now subsided, stared at Shaun, her face twisted in horror and abhorrence as she spoke to the man she had loved. ‘So you decided to frame Peter?’

  ‘Please,’ Shaun, ignoring her question, addressed Peter. ‘Just put her out of her misery will you?’

  Peter put his mouth next to Suzie’s ear and whispered like a lover. ‘I bet you’re real proud of yourself now. He’s your hubby. The father of your little boy... Little tyke reminds me of me.’ He straightened up, eyes on hers as he spoke to Shaun. ‘So, I was in the shower, and it came to you. Inspiration. No phantom. A pissed off son instead. A compulsive liar. A druggie. A waste of space. And genius boy Shaun, butter wouldn’t melt in his gob, the poor orphan, arrives home early to find the black sheep was actually an evil wolf.’ He saw the defeat in Suzie’s face, the capitulation, she was totally convinced. He glanced at Shaun. ‘It worked. But they weren’t meant to release me, w
ere they?’

  ‘That seems to be the current problem. Let me loose. We can sort things out, man to man. For old time’s sake.’

  Peter was sure he could take his brother, especially now Shaun’s legs were ruined. But, he would not allow himself to be diverted.

  Keep control. Don’t let him wind you up.

  Suzie started sobbing again.

  Shaun raised an eyebrow at Peter as he said to his wife, ‘Oh do shut up you soppy cow! None of it matters. He’s going to kill us all anyway.’

  ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong bruv.’ He flipped the gun in the air, caught the barrel and slammed the stock into the side of his brother’s neck, then whispered, ‘Goodnight Shaun. Been nice talking to you again...’

  ***

  ‘Thanks Jack.’ Carver placed the pint in front of Doc. They were both exhausted, trying to unwind over a late beer. Doc had called Judy and told her the Judge was dead. She tried to press him for details but he had fobbed her off, would tell her all about it later. We’ll talk, he had said.

  He was numb. The Judge. Dead.

  He could not accept it was an accidental suicide. ‘I think we may find something. At the scene... Pointing to Peter Leech.’ He sipped his beer. It tasted too good.

  ‘Jesus Doc. You never let it rest, do you? Tomorrow, okay. I’ll have the tapes checked. As a favour. You hear me?’ He clinked his glass with Doc’s.

  ‘Yeah. Thanks. Not just for that Jack... The car, everything.’ Doc placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, gave a little squeeze. ‘I didn’t realise it was your car.’

  ‘Thought it was an unmarked patrol car?’ The DI laughed. ‘Nah, that Saab’s my pride and joy!’

  ‘Anyway. Thanks. For trusting me.’ Doc let go of Carver’s shoulder, sipped his beer as memories of the accident tried to crowd into his mind.

  Carver diverted Doc as he spoke. ‘You know, you might not trust yourself to drive, but I do. Okay?’ He landed a playful punch on Doc’s upper arm. ‘Anyway, why d’you think I got that escort? It was for my car, not for you!’

  Doc couldn’t help but laugh. Despite his day, the shocks, the stress, the bereavement, his laughter silenced the demons, the camaraderie he felt soothing his soul. He took a long draught of his beer, thinking Jack was a good friend to have.

  ‘You know, you were lucky. You missed a pile up at the end of the M4 by just a few minutes.’ Carver’s light-hearted look turned to stone as he spoke.

  ‘Really?’ It happens, thought Doc.

  ‘Yeah. Some idiot was weaving in and out of the traffic doing eighty or ninety. A couple of the guys who’d been escorting you pulled him over.’ Carver’s voice was serious. Back to business. It was not just Doc who could not let it rest. Carver’s work was his life.

  ‘The car behind?’ Doc vaguely remembered the second police car pulling off the carriageway as he sped away in the patrol car, chauffeured to the Judge’s apartment.

  ‘Yup. Anyway, this guy is driving an AC Cobra. A sixties muscle car, all curves, chrome and engine, you know?’ Doc did not, but nodded so Carver went on. ‘Anyway, they stop him, he gets out and just blows the two poor traffic boys straight to the emergency room – with a sawn off! Then, get this, he shoots up the traffic. Hence the pile up.’ Carver downed his pint. Stood to get more.

  ‘Really?’ Doc was not giving it much thought, he was just glad he missed the chaos. He handed his empty glass to Jack.

  ‘Funny thing though. The car’s registered to a guy named Finch. Weird huh?’ He was about to move to the bar as Doc’s hand gripped his arm.

  ‘Finch? As in Judy?’ Doc’s brain wound up, a jet engine, starting to whine.

  ‘Yeah, John Finch. Some rich fucker, lives near Windsor. They’ve got a Tac squad on the way there now.’

  ‘John Finch?’ Judy’s ex-husband, John, lived near Windsor. And he collected classic cars. This was unreal. Doc’s head spun.

  ‘That’s right. Are you gonna let go of my arm anytime soon? I need it to get us another pint.’ Carver was watching Doc closely now. ‘You look like you could do with something stronger... Do you know him Doc?’

  ‘No. But I think I know his ex-wife.’

  ***`

  ‘Did I tell you, the cabbie’s missing?’ Carver had been to the bar, bought more beer and made a quick phone call. They were waiting for the response to his query, the beer a lubricant for their tired brains.

  ‘The one at Gruber’s office?’ It was the only taxi driver Doc could think of. ‘You reckon Leech abducted him?’

  ‘He’s certainly missing. The boys in blue, the street soldiers, have interviewed just about every black cab driver in central London. Only one cab is missing. And the driver...’ Carver was blunt. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’

  ‘I don’t know... but, in all probability? Yes. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘This Leech is one weirdo.’ Carver’s phone rang before he could complete the thought. He went outside, away from the hubbub of the bar. A bell rang for last orders.

  Almost eleven. What a day.

  Carver slipped back onto his stool, a sombre expression on his face.

  ‘One of the patrolmen just died in hospital. Any reason why Judy’s ex would shoot up a couple of police officers, then create a pile up on the motorway?’

  ‘It is him? Judy’s husband?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough. The Tac team are at his home now. Should be inside in the next few minutes. They’ll call me if he’s there.’ He was all business again. ‘What’s the story Doc?’

  ‘I don’t know him. Only what Judy has told me. This doesn’t sound like him... He was in the States on business. Although...’ Could he have flipped out? Over Judy and Josh? Jesus, that’s all he needed. ‘Although he is supposed to be in court tomorrow. She’s trying to restrict his access to their son.’

  ‘What, the kid who was at the station? Yesterday?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Doc refused to believe it, his analytical mind on overload with this latest piece of the jig-saw. Judy’s ex a cop killer, the Judge a pervert, Peter Leech an innocent victim, Shaun Leech a manipulative killer... It was too much. His universe had somersaulted. And Judy. Christ knows what he would tell her.

  He downed his pint and went to the bar, just getting there with seconds to spare before the final bell chimed time. He slopped Carver’s beer as he put the mug on the table, his thoughts transported back to his interview with Henley. He was about to speak when Carver’s phone trilled again. Doc waited as the detective walked outside to better hear the caller.

  He tried to stop his mind wandering, tried to clear his head. He was not doing too well and was relieved when Jack came back.

  ‘I need to sleep on this Doc.’ He had a strange look on his face. ‘John Finch was found in his home, bound and gagged. He’s in a coma and they’re taking him to hospital now.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Was he burgled? And his car stolen?’ And could it really be Judy’s husband?

  ‘Looks that way. Anyway, I’ve asked them to call me if they get more... How did it go with Henley?’

  ‘Huh?’ Doc was elsewhere. Then he switched back into gear, re-focussed. ‘You won’t believe this but he thinks Peter Leech is innocent.’

  ‘Too right I won’t. Innocent? My arse. We know he’s killed three people since getting out!’

  ‘And I agree. With him.’

  Carver slapped his forehead, exasperated. ‘Right... Mother Theresa did it. With her knitting needles.’ He sank his beer and slammed the glass down. ‘Next you’ll be asking me to re-open the case.’ His smile slid off his face as Doc answered.

  ‘Yes. I think you should.’

  ***

  The shotgun was wedged between Shaun’s legs, his arms bound either side of his bent knees, hands and ankles conjoined. Peter stepped back to admire his handiwork, then added a few more turns of the tape to his mummified brother. He checked for any movement in the arrangement. Occasionally he bumped his brother’s knee
, but Shaun was still out cold. Peter would have preferred his victim to be awake, would have to make sure he was conscious when his time was up.

  Finally he shoved the end of the barrel into his brother’s mouth, taping it to his skull, winding the adhesive material round the back of Shaun’s head several times to secure it.

  Suzie watched the operation in silence, her eyes gaping, her mouth paralysed. Eventually she spoke.

  ‘Peter. Please let me go... I’ve never meant to hurt you.’

  He snorted, a sound like a horse. ‘Not hurt me? You hurt me more than anyone. We were together. Friends at first, then boyfriend, girlfriend. Then he lied. You thought I raped you!’ He shook a fist at her. ‘Believe me, you hurt me Suzie. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to.’

  He found the fishing line he’d taken from Finch’s house, deep in one of the pockets of his coat, and started rigging it to the trigger, feeding it to the door handle. He went back to Suzie.

  His belly was ice and fire. Placid on the surface, yet still the rage was burning within him. ‘He ruined my life. You were part of that.’

  She begged him, ‘I didn’t know... Forgive me. Please. He was so convincing. I married him for chrissake! He fooled me... Everyone!’ She tried to appeal to his altruism. ‘Let me go... for Billy. He’s your nephew. Your own flesh and blood...’

  It was a waste of time.

  He rounded on her. ‘You are such a stupid bint, you know? You mean nothing to me. Billy is nothing to me.’ He held her with his green eyes flashing anger. ‘And Shaun feels the same, you know. He doesn’t give a damn. He only wanted you because you were mine. That’s all you were to him, my possession, and he always had to have what was mine.’

  ‘No... You’re crazy. He must’ve loved me – ’

  ‘He told me Suzie! Just after my sentencing hearing he came to gloat. The only reason he wanted you was to hurt me... He taunted me, wanted me to think about you being with him every day while I rotted in prison.’ The anguish was visible in his face as he jutted his chin at her. ‘And I did. But not now. Not any more...’