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

by Will Patching

  ‘Jack!’

  Carver returned his attention to the matter in hand, swerved round a taxi, hit the siren to make it seem as if he meant it.

  ‘Sorry. What’s less palatable than Leech coming after you? Coming to kill you?’

  ‘Perhaps he knew Judy would be there.’ Had he gone there to wait for Judy to return?

  ‘How could he have known that?’

  ‘I don’t know... Maybe we should be asking who knew she was there. Who could’ve told him. Inadvertently. Or otherwise.’

  Carver burnt rubber as he swung into the hospital entrance, then screeched to a halt in the ambulance bay.

  He gave Doc a hard look. ‘Come off it. Conspiracy now? You think someone on our side would help this guy? He’s shot four policemen. Three are dead. One is critical, almost certainly blinded.’

  Doc had almost forgotten about the policemen at Hammersmith who had escorted him on his trip back from Bristol, it seemed so long ago.

  ‘I didn’t mean...’ His voice faded. He was not thinking clearly, not sure what to say any more. Befuddled. ‘You’re right. We should assume he came for me. That I’m a target now.’

  ‘You were a target the moment you and Judy became an item.’

  ‘Not if he didn’t know Jack. And I ask again, how could he know these things? About Judy and me, about her living in my house?’

  Carver pursed his lips. ‘You’ve got a point. Whatever, we should get you some protection too. I’ll square it with the PTBs.’

  ‘While you’re at it can you get an armed guard to watch over Josh? If anything more happens to him...’ Doc could not conceive of how Judy would react. He willed Carver to say yes.

  Carver spoke gently, but his attitude was sceptical. ‘Are you honestly telling me the lad’s in danger?’

  ‘Leech could’ve been trying to abduct him. To draw Judy to him. I really don’t know, but please...’

  ‘Okay, I’ll get them both an armed guard. The good news is that Leech is hurt.’

  ‘Really? But not badly enough it would seem.’

  ‘I don’t know Doc. His head and hands are swathed in bloody bandages according to the neighbour who saw him leave your place. Should make it easy for us to catch him now. The update is with every beat bobby and patrol car in London. Fingers crossed, eh Doc?’

  ‘That seems to be what we need to catch Leech.’ Doc opened the car door as he spoke. ‘Luck. Just about everything else is failing us. He’s a regular Houdini.’

  ‘Yeah, and look what happened to him!’

  As Carver drove off Doc was trying to remember what had happened to the magician. He had seen a film about the man when he was a boy.

  Oh yes.

  He died, trying to escape.

  Doc crossed his fingers.

  ***

  Leech went to the bar and asked the barman, ‘Hey mate. I’m not feeling too great, where’s the nearest casualty department.’

  ‘I did wonder when I saw you come in. You don’t look too good, pal. The nearest Accident and Emergency is at Charing Cross hospital. You been in a fight with a lawnmower?’

  ‘Nah! Fell through a window. Patched meself up and came for a few jars. But I feel like shit.’ He rubbed a hand over his lower belly and added, ‘Think I might’ve ruptured something too.’

  The barman pointed at the window, the ambulance visible as it passed the bar, lights flashing. ‘Shame you couldn’t hitch a lift with that, eh? They’ll be from Charing Cross. Sit down, and I’ll order a taxi. Don’t go fainting on me though, will you?’

  Leech returned to his seat, well satisfied. He would sort Finch. And then Powers. After that he would disappear. He poked around in his coat pockets and found the fake passport, thinking how handy the huge poacher’s pouches were, so much better than lugging a bag around. He fondled it, slipped it into his jeans back pocket.

  He should lose the Barbour. He had been seen wearing it too many times already. The rain had stopped and he could buy himself another jacket later. He made the decision, went to the bathroom, miming to the barman that he was about to throw up. Once inside the gents he emptied the pockets, stuffed the coat in the rubbish bin, smashed the shotgun butt on the toilet cistern, shattering the wood and removing a chunk of porcelain simultaneously. He rammed the bits under the coat, thinking it was a shame, he had grown rather fond of the weapon.

  He untucked his shirt, poked one police pistol in his waistband, discarded the other, jammed a couple of spare clips of ammunition in his pocket along with a can of pepper spray he had salvaged from his would be ambushers, shoved the remaining duct tape in the other, and selected a small round plastic container for his next task.

  He opened the box and removed the blue contacts Gruber had given him. He was impressed with the effect. His eyes sparkled a Caribbean turquoise. He looked fantastic!

  He chucked the remaining items into the bin, and went back to the bar, clutching his head for effect, avoiding eye contact with the barman who said, ‘Taxi’s outside mate.’

  He grunted his thanks, went out and sank into the back seat of the cab. The driver pulled away, confirming his destination but saying nothing more, leaving his passenger to suffer in silence.

  Ten minutes later he arrived at the hospital.

  ‘Hello. I wonder if you can help me.’ Leech was in the A and E reception, but there was no sign of Birdy or her kid. He turned up his charisma levels, smiled toothlessly at the nurse, a young girl oozing compassion and sympathy.

  ‘I’ll certainly try. You’ve been in the wars haven’t you?’

  ‘Fraid so. But I’m more worried about my nephew. He was just brought in... Hit by a car. Name’s Finch.’

  She checked her computer, and moments later said. ‘Joshua? He’s in theatre. You can wait?’

  Damn. He did not want to hang about. He glanced around, worried the police would be here. They were never far from a Casualty Department, many of their ‘clients’ often finding themselves in need of treatment.

  The nurse saw his frown, and smiled at him. ‘His mother’s here. She’s in the relative’s room. She could probably do with some company right now.’ She gave him directions, probably mistaking his gummy grin as thanks for a job well done.

  Perfect. He had her now. At last. Six weeks since he had met her and he would finally be with her. He felt himself harden, aroused at the prospect.

  Oh yes Birdy. We’ll play a little. And then I’ll finish you off. Make sure lover boy Powers is in mourning again... when he dies.

  He let his thoughts dwell on what he would do to them, the anticipation of revenge delicious, a flavour to be savoured and enjoyed. He swaggered through the corridors, bounded up the three flights of stairs and found the relative’s suite. Room three the nurse had said.

  The blinds were down, no one could see into the room. Or out. He stood at the door, his hand on the doorknob, his penis engorged and throbbing. He drank in the moment, groped for something in his pocket, and then opened the door.

  ***

  ‘He’s still in surgery.’ The nurse on reception looked about twenty years old to Doc, fresh faced and cheery in this place of broken bones and mangled bodies, of gushing wounds and terrible trauma. Misery all around and she appeared for all the world as if she was at a picnic or theme park. She chirped at him, ‘You can wait upstairs. Third floor, family room three. His mother and uncle are there.’

  ‘Uncle?’ Judy’s brother had died years ago and she had told him John was an only child. His mind cranked slowly, still suffering from the shock of his recent experiences. ‘That can’t be right.’

  ‘Oh yes. He arrived several minutes ago.’ She was reacting to the alarm in his eyes, her own transmitting caring concern. ‘He was pretty badly injured himself. His head – ’

  ‘And hands were bandaged?’ She was nodding, expression shifting to bewilderment as Doc backed away, his voice urgent, demanding. ‘Call security and the police. His name’s Leech. He’s armed and extremely dangerous.’

&nbs
p; She dithered, gave him a look that told him she thought he was a madman. He pulled his ID out and slung it at her. ‘I’m with the police. DO IT NOW!’

  He ran to the stairs, not bothering to check whether she was doing as he said. His palms were sweaty as he gripped the rail with one hand, the other clutching his mobile. His foot slipped off a step as he hit the speed-dial number for Carver, the phone spinning from his fingers, tumbling down the stairs and exploding into pieces as it landed.

  ‘SHIT!’

  He flew up the steps, three at a time, collided with an old man hobbling down who smacked him on the head with his stick as he ricocheted past.

  He did not stop. He ignored the abuse that echoed after him, his own mind full of horrors far worse than the old boy could ever wish on him.

  An illusion, a hallucination appeared that almost stopped him in his tracks. It was Leech, raping Judy from behind, his green eyes alight, his face leering at Doc. He managed to fight through it, stopped a nurse and asked her, ‘Where’s family room three?’

  She stared down at his hand. He was gripping her arm, his fingers white from the pressure as they dug deep into her flesh. He forced himself to release her, eyes frantic, jerking round the hall looking for a sign to guide him.

  ‘Do you realise that’s assault sir? You need to calm down. And please don’t run in the corridors... Room three is straight on, second on the left.’

  If she said anything else he did not hear her. The adrenalin pumped through him, his ears roared, his heart hammered and his lungs swelled. He was out of shape but he sprinted for the room, not sure what he would do when he got there.

  He had no weapon. Nothing to handle Leech with. What was he doing? He didn’t know, he only knew he had to get to Judy. Now.

  He turned into the passageway and crashed into a trolley. The patient was feet first toward him and Doc doubled over as the metal railing slammed into his belly, knocking the air from his lungs. His head swung down from the momentum of the impact and cracked on the man’s plastered leg. They both yelped. Doc shoved the trolley away as the orderly made a grab for him, throwing himself at the door marked number three.

  He hit it full pelt, blasting it open with his shoulder, bursting in, hardly slowing.

  ***

  His hallucination was real.

  Leech was behind Judy, her small frame bent over the back of the sofa, his hands round her throat, her face puce from lack of oxygen, a strip of grey tape on her mouth and more of the same binding her hands. Her eyes bulged in recognition and terror as Doc burst in.

  His emotions congealed into an overwhelming mass of fury at the sight. He registered Leech’s eyes as the thug’s head jerked toward the door. They were blue in this light and the battered face barely recognisable, but there was no doubt it was Leech. The bandaged hands and head, the sick smug smile Doc had glimpsed at the parole hearing.

  He was still moving as he took it all in, his legs pounding into the room, barely five paces between them. Leech let go of Judy and turned to face him, his manhood angry and red, poking proud of his jeans zipper.

  Doc was conscious of it all, his outrage and wrath powering him towards the odious creature. In a moment of total clarity he became aware of the balcony behind Leech. And the open door at the man’s back...

  Doc had never played rugby. But he had watched it.

  He slammed into Leech, ducking his head below the outstretched hand, his skull connecting with the solid midriff, the obscene penis waggling in Doc’s face as he connected.

  It was like hitting a brick wall headfirst and at that moment Doc knew he was going to die.

  But his own flabby bulk, his momentum, and the sheer force of his animal rage, took Leech by surprise. The bigger man stumbled back towards the balcony, his hands scrabbling and groping, then linking under Doc’s chest, hugging him under the armpits, trying to regain his balance and get some purchase.

  Doc would not have believed he had any reserves, felt Leech’s immense power start to crush his ribs, but yet more adrenalin swamped his system as he struggled. He felt his ribs starting to crack just as Leech’s tee shirt rode up, exposing a handgun right before Doc’s eyes. He let go of Leech with his right hand, and grabbed at the weapon, accidentally pulling the trigger as he tried to wrench it from Leech’s waistband.

  The detonation so close to his face stunned Doc and he let go of the gun as Leech’s inner thigh flowered into a red rose of bloody flesh, the wound giving Doc the edge. Leech grunted with the pain, faltered but held on.

  Doc was unrelenting, seizing the advantage he ploughed forward, arms clamped round Leech’s buttocks again, lifting and toppling Leech backwards. They hit the balcony wall like that, in a deadly embrace.

  Doc’s fingers were crushed on impact, the combined speed and weight of their bodies driving the delicate bones into the concrete, rupturing his joints. He didn’t feel it. His feet kept moving, shoving, determined to push Leech over. He could sense Leech was weakening from the wound in his leg, his lifeblood pulsing from a ravaged artery.

  Leech pivoted back over the balcony wall, his legs swung up either side of Doc and he howled a hellbound scream as gravity started to take effect.

  Doc had him.

  But Leech had Doc too.

  Their momentum kept them moving, toppling them both over the parapet. Leech’s legs flailed then clasped Doc’s hips as they swung out above three storeys of nothingness.

  Doc tried to stop himself, but it was too late. He had over-committed. He thought he heard Judy call his name as, entwined with Leech in some perverse parody of gay lovers, they went over the balcony together.

  ***

  Epilogue: A Life After Death

  ‘Dying didn’t hurt.’

  He was talking to Natalie. She was floating with him, her beauty radiating, dazzling.

  ‘You aren’t dead, honey.’ Her smile dissolved him.

  He was confused.

  ‘I must be dead. I’m with you.’

  ‘No you’re not.’ It wasn’t Natalie. It was Judy. How could he have made that mistake? He heard her calling to him now, her face a halo of sunlight. ‘Come back to me Colin. Can you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me...’

  He spun away.

  ***

  He was a light. A fluorescent. A strip light with a faulty starter. He was on the ceiling and, below him, in the strobe effect he was creating, he saw a bed, machines, a man, bandaged, legs under a canopy, wires and tubes leading from his body to the machines. And a woman sitting with him, weeping.

  The woman was familiar.

  She spoke.

  ‘Colin. Can you hear me?’

  His light flickered.

  She was gone.

  Then nurses came. Cleaning the man. It was him. He looked destroyed. It didn’t matter. He felt nothing.

  ***

  ‘Hey Doc? You awake?’

  Carver’s voice hovered above him. Where was he now? He couldn’t see, the lights blinding him.

  ‘Jack? I’m here.’ He thought he spoke, but could not hear his voice.

  ‘Nurse!’ Carver’s voice, moving away from him now. ‘His eyes opened. Just for a few seconds...’

  ***

  Natalie was back. They drifted and chatted. He felt fabulous. Then her voice shifted again.

  ‘Colin. Look at me. I’m here. It’s Judy.’

  Her face. The halo, again.

  ‘I’m fine Judy. I feel good.’ He still could not hear his voice.

  Blackness.

  ***

  His eyes hurt, refused to focus. Too much light overloaded his optic nerves, blurring his view. Then everything clicked into place with a clarity well beyond his normal vision.

  Carver was sitting by the bedside, reading a magazine. His nose was covered with black pores and fine hairs – Doc had never noticed those before. And lying where he was he could see the black bristles, short and stubby, poking from Carver’s nostrils.

  He laughed.

  And this time
he heard himself. A bubble and rattle that hurt his throat. There was a tube there.

  Carver dropped his magazine, startled. ‘Doc! You’re back!’ He went to the door and called, ‘Nurse! He really is awake this time.’

  ***

  He was not awake for long, but Carver was still with him when he re-surfaced.

  He felt alive with pain, all over his body. He did not laugh this time, he groaned as he woke.

  ‘Glad you could join us, Doc. How you doing?’

  It hurt to speak, but at least the tube had gone.

  ‘I don’t know, but I need something for the pain.’

  ‘You’ve already got a morphine patch on and I don’t think they plan on giving you more... You’ve been under for three days.’ Carver’s expression was filled with warmth and sympathy, his mouth curving into a smile, his eyes twinkling. ‘Some people will do anything to get a few days off!’

  ‘Why am I in here?’ He tried to remember. Was it the car crash? It couldn’t be that, he remembered coming out of hospital already. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You really don’t remember?’

  Doc was tired, wanted to sleep, the short period of concentration draining him. But he needed to know.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re a real life super-hero.’ He held up his magazine with a picture of Doc on the front page. The headline screamed, ‘Flying Doctor to the rescue!’

  Flying? Doc had been flying with Natalie in his dream... It must have been a dream because he knew she was dead.

  He wanted to know more, but his throat was too sore to speak. He waited for Carver to explain.

  ‘Leech? You must remember Leech! He was assaulting your Judy. He’d arrived here, at this hospital, about five minutes before I dropped you off to see Josh.’

  Carver raised his eyebrows, trying to see some sign that Doc remembered.

  It started to come back.

  ‘Josh... He was hit by a car. How is he?’ His voice was croaky and dry. Carver held a glass of water with a straw to his mouth. It tasted delicious.

  ‘He was smashed up pretty bad. Broke both legs, had some internal injuries and a fractured skull. They took his spleen out... But they reckon he’ll make it. Judy’s with him now.’