“Rifle?” he repeated before shaking his head, “Not that I can think of. It’s too big for most of them if you ask me. Closest they get to a rifle is sniping on one of the FPS’s on the computer.”
Raising an eyebrow at the anagram he realised I wasn’t as up to date as he was with the lingo of the console generation, “First Person Shooters, Mister Harper.”
“I get you. Well Mister Thompson, if you could think of anyone who you think could be linked to these shootings or, and I stress not putting yourself in danger here, if you could possibly ask around for any information then it would be very helpful.”
“They’re not likely to give each other up Mister Harper, no matter who is asking the question.”
“I understand but there are people shooting each other out there and I don’t want to see more bloodshed. Anyone who can use a rifle accurately to do the damage that has been inflicted on this community needs to be stopped.”
Thompson put his hands together as if in prayer and touched them to his lips, slowly closing his eyes. A moment later raised his eyelids stared at me and then spoke, “You’re right. I’ll start asking about rifles and who could possibly have been involved. If I get any names then I’ll pass them on to you.”
“Just one more thing. What is your opinion on the Boulton shooting? Do you think that the Morrison kid had it in him to pull the trigger?”
The social worker exhaled and looked up for a second, “I know Morrison in passing and he’s not the smartest of lads. Look, he got caught up with the gang and peer pressure can force you into doing a lot of things that you may not want to do.”
“Thanks it’s good to get the opinion of people who know this place. Here’s my card, feel free to call me anytime if you manage to find something out.”
“Here’s hoping I do.”
Chapter Twenty Four
I walked out into the winter morning sunlight and inhaled as much of the cold air as possible feeling the bite on my teeth. Grimacing, I let out the breath in a long column of condensation. I was sore and feeling slightly out of my depth in the investigation.
When I worked on the force I had resources at my disposal to try and ensure a successful resolution to cases. Now I didn’t have those benefits, I was relying solely on my own investigative and deductive powers. It was difficult to accept the new challenge and it could be overwhelming knowing that the fate of a young man rested on my shoulders but I was morally obliged to help and if the person who had shot Boulton was the same gunman who had attacked the football game then my investigation was even more important.
I stood there for a long moment and just appreciated being outside in the cold. The reverie was broken by my phone ringing. A quick look at the caller identification stopped my automatic inclination to respond. Inhaling sharply I then answered, “Spencer, I wasn’t expecting a reply so soon. Calling to thank me?”
“Not exactly. You’re just causing me more problems.”
“Really? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Well this Leo Ambrose character you had me looking at appears to be something of a nutter.”
I tilted my head a little, “Why, what’s up?”
“For one I don’t know how the hell they haven’t taken away his license. He’s been flirting with the law for the past couple of years.”
I bit my lip so as not to laugh or make a joke at the thought of flirting with Lady Justice. In my defence it was still relatively early in the morning and I was having a brief spell of mischievousness which seemed to happen a lot around Spencer, “What we looking at?”
“He’s been around a couple of altercations, some disturbance calls to his residence as well but the one that stands out is threatening a neighbour with a rifle. In the end the complaint was dropped but it has drawn the attention of our investigation now especially since the weapon in question uses the same calibre of bullet as the one used in the football massacre. We’re going to pick him up at work for a spot of questioning now. If it pays off I’ll owe you again. I just thought it best to thank you now so you don’t hold it over me.”
“Would I ever do such a thing?”
“Bye Harper.”
A smile crossed my face and I quickly rang Rich to tell him the good news. He answered with a cheery, “Good morning my friend, what’s the word?”
“Morning Rich, I’ve just got off the phone with the local plod and they’re going to pick up Ambrose as we speak.”
“Have they got anything new on him?”
“Not really just he has a little bit of a record which is enough for them to want to have a chat about his rifles.”
“So they’re going to his house now?”
“No, he’s at work,” I mentioned and then immediately regretted it.
I could hear Richard on the other end moving, “Right, where are you?”
“I’m in Elsworth at the community centre,” I said with a little trepidation in my voice and praying I was wrong about what he wanted to do.
“Ok, I’m just getting in my car and will pick you up and we can go have a look around Ambrose’s house.”
“Rich, we don’t need to do that,” I replied with a slight laugh in my voice to try and encourage him to stop but I knew it would do me no good.
“It can’t hurt, see you in ten.”
I wanted to tell him it could most definitely hinder my investigation and could make it very difficult for the police to close a case on Leo Ambrose if we did something wrong in his house. The problem was he knew that and didn’t care which made things more dangerous for me. I wasn’t used to being the responsible one.
Chapter Twenty Five
Rich picked me up in his car and quickly sped off. I sat there for a moment in silence collecting my thoughts to prepare my argument, “Mate you know this isn’t a good idea right?”
“As you know there needs to be evidence that he was involved in the Boulton shooting and I’m here to help you,” he said his eyes never leaving the road as he accelerated following the satellite navigation in his car.
“Rich, I can’t thank you enough for the help you have given me on this but I can’t ruin the investigation of the locals by doing something illegal.”
He smiled ever so slightly, “John, we both know you’re no boy scout by any stretch of the imagination. Hell, in that investigation in Hollingswood you would’ve had to get information somehow and I’ll lay odds that you went some places you shouldn’t have been.”
I was left shaking my head, “That’s not the point, here it is different.”
“How so? It was worse then because you were a police officer breaking into houses. Now you’re just a civilian who may have found a house open. We’ll be as quick and as discrete as possible.”
It was the way he said it that convinced me not to bother questioning him any further on the topic, so I changed the subject slightly, “Are you in a rush?”
“I don’t think we have that much time before your old boys decide to go to his house. The other thing is I’ve got to leave you unfortunately. Some work has come up and I’ll have to leave the country in a day or so. I do want to help though which is why I rang the rifle club and got the address for us. This whole experience has been rather fun if I do say so myself and when I’m back I’d love to help out you again.”
Rich had been useful and with his connections I could see him being a brilliant addition to my detective agency in the future. I was disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to utilise his expertise much longer but I understood his time was in demand, “To be honest mate I wish you were staying around but I know that if you are leaving it must be important. When you get back if I have anything interesting I’ll let you know as soon as it reaches my desk.”
“Thanks, it’s nice to be appreciated sometimes.”
“Do you mind me asking where you are going?”
“I don’t mind but other people might. Just keep an eye on the news in the New Year and you can guess where I’m off to.”
Nodding I just looked out of the window till we arrived at our destination wondering where in the world Rich was off to. One of my flaws, and I will openly admit it, is geography which, added to my lack of knowledge on current world affairs, made it a struggle to deduce a possible destination for my friend. I made a mental note to do some actual research when the case was over and not just slink back into my comfortable world of mystery and thriller novels but I’d made similar promises to myself in the past so I held out little hope.
We pulled up on cul-de-sac surrounded by bungalows built in the Fifties. Nice well kept gardens lined the street and it was a quiet and frozen in the middle of winter. I noticed a number of people staring out from the windows of their houses at us but no one bothered us. Rich was dressed like I was but in a black suit and white shirt so they probably thought us salesmen or officials of some sort. This was a much nicer suburb than I had been in visiting the last couple of days.
I followed as the former soldier strode towards the front door, taking out a pair of white surgical gloves and snapping them on his hands. My leather gloves served the same purpose of protecting my fingerprints. The front door was new and I didn’t think I would be able to open it with my lock picking skills. Rich just nodded at it and I shook my head to which he indicated the backdoor with his thumb. Biting my lip, I shrugged and walked around the back simply opening the gate at the side.
The creosoted fencing on my right hiding my actions from view of the house next door, but as I walked towards the rear entrance I stopped at the sight of an open window. I was surprised that someone would leave anything open in this weather but it was safer than picking a lock. There was a silver set of blinds so I couldn’t see into the house but when I put my hands inside on the window it was a lot warmer. Before I could lift the window however Rich grabbed my arm.
“Hold on,” he said as he pushed me out of the way. Standing there with my arms crossed I wondered why he wanted to open the window himself I watched him feel the inside of the window. Rich nodded to himself and turned to me as he put his back to the wall, “Stand back.”
Rich lifted the window as best he could with one hand and the next moment we were greeted by a rattling sound and then a whoosh as an arrow flew out of the window and imbedded itself in the fence. I turned towards it as nonchalantly as possible so as but my friend had seen the surprise on my face. He smiled before saying, “I had a feeling that he might booby trap his house.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I replied keeping my voice low since we were still breaking into Ambrose’s home.
“It was a hunch. When I spoke to the rifle club members this morning to get the address it was mentioned in passing that Ambrose was very pro defence of his home, you know like that fella who shot those burglars,” Rich told me as he pulled the arrow from the fence and in move that suggested to me that he was showing off, sniffed the point. He then used the arrow shaft to lift the bottom of the blinds to reveal a crossbow. The weapon was propped up on a set of books facing the window with string attached to the trigger mechanism. Having seen it in action I knew the workings of the pulley system Ambrose had used.
“I’m pretty sure Tony Martin didn’t rig crossbows to his windows.”
Rich looked at me with the sardonic grin on his face before climbing delicately into the room having inspected the area for anymore traps. From inside he replied, “You’re probably right and I’m sure Martin didn’t put rat poison on his traps either.”
I clambered inside the house, happy to be out of the cold, “Is that what you smelt on the arrow?”
“Technically this isn’t an arrow,” Rich said holding the projectile up and placing it back on the crossbow which he had rearmed, “It is known as a bolt.”
“Ok Mister Pedantic,” I quipped.
“But yes you’re right. Ambrose put anti-coagulant on the end of the bolt. If it had hit an intended body part then it would have prevented blood clotting and you could have a pretty serious bleed on your hands. Not a very nice way to go.”
I looked at the crossbow again, “I think I’m beginning to see how bad this guy could be. Also I’m a little surprised he doesn’t have a woman in his life.”
Rich laughed and we split up to investigate the small domicile. The room we had entered was once a bedroom, with a mattress propped up against the wall and an open empty wooden wardrobe opposite it. Rich went to the left towards the back of the building and I went right to the entrance. On my left was another bedroom that was bigger than the first. The windows were covered in old newspaper letting in very little light to the dusty room. There was nothing of interest there other than an old fashioned bear trap on the floor beneath the window. Ambrose’s paranoia was impressive.
I walked back into the hall and then directly across to the living room. It lived up to the name as it was evidently where Ambrose spent most of his time. He wasn’t the cleanest of fellows with pizza and fried chicken boxes scattered over the couch, table and chairs. Mixed in with the takeaway wrappings were empty beer bottles and magazines all facing towards a plasma screen television.
“John you probably want to see this,” Rich called out.
I retraced my steps till I found him in another bedroom in the room next to where we had made our entrance. There was a bed that was well made and a wardrobe that Rich stood in front of. It doubled as a gun cabinet with three rifles and two shotguns stacked inside. Hung on the door was a black tactical vest and at the bottom of the cabinet a bag of the same durable black fabric. I let out a low whistle at the armoury, “Impressive.”
“Yeah it is,” Rich said as he picked out a green camouflaged rifle and held it up for inspection. He then did the same with the AK-47 which I recognised before placing them both on the bed, “That’s the CZ rifle. The scope is former Soviet military spec. This guy has spent some serious money on his weapons.”
“Nothing that surprising really, anything that helps us?”
Rich walked over to the cabinet at the side of the bed and opened the drawers, “I’ve tried not to move things around too much but I have found some interesting. Ambrose has a set of night vision goggles here and two pistols here.”
“We’re not saying he used a pistol.”
“True but it does mean that Ambrose has been messing around with some very naughty people. You know pistols are illegal and these ones are converted CO2 weapons. Other than that though I’ve not found anything that ties him to the Boulton shooting but I’ll keep looking.”
“Let’s not linger though,” I said and walked to the bathroom. I checked the cupboards for medication and found nothing. The last room of the house was the kitchen which was surprisingly clean compared to the living room. Yes there were plates in the sink but for a bachelor it was rather good. That being said, my home was spotless compared to this one. The microwave seemed the most used appliance with stains around it. There was no dishwasher but a washing machine was full and resting after a full cycle. I found nothing in the cupboards in the way of medication or food other than instant noodles. The fridge however had been recently stocked with ready meals, and meat lining the shelves. On the kitchen table however was something interesting.
Recent newspapers lay open with stories about the shootings, next to a switched off laptop and a cold cup of coffee in a chipped white mug, stained with years of use. A laminated map rested on top off the papers with the location of the murders marked in red pen, “Ok, now that is a bad sign.”
Before I could call Rich he was in the kitchen with me with a finger on his lip before pointing to the front of the house, he then indicated the back door and mimed opening it. I raised my eyebrows but moved quickly at his behest. When breaking into someone’s home with a partner who is now being silent it usual pays to do as instructed. As if to punctuate the point the sound of keys entering a lock came from the front door.
The door was locked and there was no key in sight. I looked around as much as possible without making a noise before the door opened. The am
ount of time it took suggested to me that the person opening it was rushing and nervous. With time running out I went to my pocket and removed the lock pick set I carried. I wasn’t as practiced as I had been in my youth but quickly went to work.
“Who the hell do they think they are messing with?!” came from the front of the house and Rich moved to the kitchen door slowly closing it but keeping an eye on the small slit he had left as an early warning. The door from the living room was shut tight.
Loud banging noises came from the rest of the house and more shouting, “I’ll show them. They think I’m a bad guy. I’ll show them bad. Moat has nothing on me. I’m trained, I’ve got a plan. No way they’ll find me.”
Rich moved away from the door and I could hear him at the kitchen counter and the sound of a knife sliding out of a block. The rasp of metal was comforting but also petrifying when right behind you. I didn’t bother turning around but I was struggling to open the lock. Like I said I was out of practice doing such a thing.
The banging got louder and the yelling as Ambrose smashed around his room, “I’ve done nothing wrong. I knew the corrupt bastards would come for me one day though. Well I’ll show them.”
I’d watched enough films to know the sound of a gun being loaded. This situation was getting out of hand. I was beginning to sweat and my usual calm fingers began to shake. It was a stupid thing to do but I turned around and looked at my friend. He was calm stood by the door with a large kitchen knife in his hand the back of the blade resting on his forearm. Rich didn’t look at me but kept peering out of the small gap in the door, with his free hand he motioned to hurry up.
“Right what do I need? Toothbrush! Won’t need deodorant, it will give me away in the wild,” the voice said from beyond as Ambrose spoke aloud his checklist. His voice was loud and angry but was more measured than when he first arrived in the house, “I’ve got ration packs in my bag but it would be a waste leaving the food I bought.”
A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) Page 10