To him it was just a way of life; in some ways he could say he enjoyed it. It gave him a chance to lose himself, to explore that other side of him, the sinister side. The man circulated, absorbing his environment but taking care not to appear too obvious. He’d tried to buy drugs in several nightclubs during the last couple of weeks, but it was always the wrong dealer.
The man wanted one person in particular, and he was pleased that tonight he had found that person, Les Stevens. He recognised him from the photographs that he had seen.
After a few minutes he noticed a slightly built man flitting from person to person. He’d also noticed him earlier talking to Les. He reminded him of a whippet. There was always a whippet in these places; the type of man who was nice to all the right people, the people with power, fearful of upsetting them, but at the same time hoping to gain respect because of his connections.
The man knew that he could use the whippet to try to get to Les and it wasn’t long before he caught his attention. As their eyes locked he motioned for the whippet to approach his table. He knew the whippet would obey; the man was too imposing to ignore.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked the whippet.
‘Ernie,’ he replied offering his outstretched hand, anxious to please.
‘And yours?’ asked Ernie.
‘Dan.’
‘Dan who?’
‘Dan is all you need to know!’
‘Oh,’ was the only word Ernie could muster.
‘You a regular here?’ asked Dan.
‘Oh yeah.’
‘So you know all the movers and shakers then do you?’
‘Might do,’ said Ernie.
Dan guessed what was troubling Ernie and was quick to point out, ‘I’m not a copper, don’t worry. I just need to get hold of something and I thought you might know where I can get it.’
‘Oh yeah, what is it you want then?’
‘Uppers.’
‘Yeah, I can get hold of them for you, but it’ll cost.’
‘How much?’
‘Whatever he charges, plus an extra tenner to me for making the introduction.’
‘OK, go for it.’
Dan watched, amused, as Ernie shuffled eagerly through the crowds towards Les. Dan knew that a direct approach to Les was out of the question. Les, a hardened drug pusher, would be far too cautious for that.
It wasn’t long before Ernie returned and signalled for Dan to follow him.
‘This is him,’ said Ernie when they reached Les.
‘You after some uppers?’ asked Les.
‘Yeah, that’s right.’
‘What’s wrong with your usual supplier?’
‘I’ve just moved up from London. Things were getting a bit hot down there so I had to get out quick.’
‘Oh yeah, how hot? What happened?’
Dan could tell that his obvious Mancunian accent had aroused Les’s suspicion.
‘Coppers nicked a few dealers. It was getting harder to get hold of anything and a few users were nicked as well. I didn’t want to take any chances so I came up here. I’m from Manchester anyway, but a lot of people have moved on since I was last here.’
Les swallowed the tale. ‘Right, before we do the deal, no fuckin’ hand shakin’ or anything, right?’
‘Do I look stupid?’ asked Dan.
‘Right, OK, if anyone asks you’re just a mate who knows me from the club. Don’t let anyone see the drugs or the money, but if anyone does ask, you were just lending an old mate a few quid right, and the drugs have got nowt to do with me.’
‘Sure, I know the score.’
The deal was carried out. ‘Cheers mate. I’ll know where to find you again,’ said Dan.
‘Yeah, I’m usually in here or the Hacienda,’ Les replied.
As Dan turned to walk away, he noticed Ernie the whippet. He couldn’t let such a weak man put one over on him. He had to stamp his authority at the outset if he was going to deal convincingly with these people again.
‘And you can fuck off if you think you’re gonna screw a tenner out of me, you fuckin’ worm!’ Then, pointing his finger aggressively at Ernie for Les’s benefit, he added. ‘I might have just arrived here, but everyone will soon find out who I am, so just fuckin’ watch yourself.’
He strode away, nodding at Les while noting his enjoyment at his treatment of Ernie. Les had taken it all in, hook, line and sinker. He just needed to deal with him a few more times now to gain his complete trust, then he could make his final move.
--------------------
Saturday 20th September 1986
It wasn’t long after that before Ernie also left the Blue Macaw. Les watched as he disappeared. He had been searching for Ernie for a couple of weeks now, but it seemed that he had been keeping a low profile for whatever reason, probably owed somebody money knowing him. Les wanted to follow straightaway, but he had a few customers awaiting his attention, and he couldn’t resist the lure of easy money. Besides, he couldn’t afford to turn customers down; he didn’t want them to take their business elsewhere.
Unbeknown to Les though, Ernie had been on his way to an important meeting with Leroy Booth, a local gangster and hard man. Ernie had been working for Leroy for several weeks, hence his low profile. Leroy had found that Ernie was a useful pawn due to his meek demeanour. Unlike Leroy and his bully boys, who were forever being pulled by the police, Ernie had the knack of evading suspicion. Leroy had therefore put him to work in a number of areas but advised him to continue his usual activities. Part of Leroy’s plans were to find out who his rivals were in the drugs supply chain and Ernie had provided him with some very handy information lately.
As soon as Les had finished with his customers he sped after Ernie. Outside the club he could see him a couple of hundred yards down the road. Les quickly caught up with him.
‘Ernie!’ he shouted as he drew closer. ‘I want a word with you.’
His voice belied the contempt that he felt within.
Ernie swung around, suspecting nothing.
‘Hiya Les, what is it?’ he asked.
‘It’s a bit delicate. We’d be better off out of the way so no-one can hear us. Come down here and I’ll tell ya.’
Ernie complied with his instruction as Les knew he would, because Ernie was always keen to find new ways of gaining information, respect or both. In his eagerness Ernie unwittingly allowed Les to guide him into a side road followed by a shop doorway, which was deserted at this time of night. Then Les sprung his surprise, taking Ernie’s arm and twisting it up his back in an arm-lock.
‘You fuckin’ dickhead!’ he snarled. ‘Why don’t you learn to keep your big mouth shut?’
He could sense Ernie’s pain and confusion as he stammered, ‘W-w-what have I done?’
‘At the flat, you prat! You mouthed off to that Jacqueline.’
‘I don’t know what you mean. Who’s Jacqueline?’ Ernie pleaded.
‘You know, that bird that was there last time you came round. Why did you open your fuckin’ big trap in front of her?’ As he spoke he twisted Ernie’s arm tighter up his back.
‘Please Les, you’re hurting me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘The drugs dickhead! Why did you have to let her know what we were up to?’
‘Shit Les, I didn’t realise. I thought she knew. I’m sorry but I thought she was your bird.’
This angered Les more. ‘Fuck off! Why would I want an ugly cow like her, you moron.’ He released Ernie’s arm and shoved him against the shop door.
Ernie stared at him, horrified, on realising his mistake. He had no choice but to wait while Les decided his fate. Ernie didn’t have to wait long until Les administered his punishment, kicking and punching savagely.
It was difficult for Les to get at him though; the little wimp had curled into a ball and squeezed into a corner of the shop doorway. When Les grew tired of his exertions, he dragged Ernie to his feet and held a knife to his throat. Now he was really beginning to
squirm!
‘In future keep your big mouth shut, right!’
Despite his contempt of Ernie, Les had planned to leave it at that. In fact, he was so sure of his hold over Ernie that he hadn’t challenged him at the flat straightaway; he was more concerned with how Jacqueline would react if she realised that Ernie was trying to buy drugs from him. And even now, he was confident that Ernie would be so petrified by his threat, that he daren’t utter a word to anybody. That was until Ernie made his second mistake; he opened his mouth again.
‘What about the girl? What if she says something?’
Les was so hyped up by the thrill of violence that he replied instinctively. ‘She won’t, not now.’
He cringed as a look of recognition flashed across Ernie’s face. Ernie knew what had happened to Jacqueline. Maybe he hadn’t seen it on the news with him being NFA or maybe he had and just hadn’t realised until now that it was the same girl. Either way, it left Les with no choice; he had to dispose of Ernie as well.
--------------------
Tuesday 7th October 1986
‘Julie, you’ve got to go to the police again. We can’t go on like this,’ pleaded Betty as she sat beside Julie on their settee while they both digested the contents of this latest threat.
Julie refused to be drawn into another argument. There had been a few over the preceding weeks with each going over the same ground. Julie’s parents usually begged her to go to the police, and Julie refused to go through the same ordeal again just to be told that she was wasting police time.
She looked at the piece of paper placed between her and Betty. It was a message made up from letters cut out of newspapers; one of several that had arrived recently. This time, however, the words were even more alarming:-
‘Give yourself up or you’ll meet the same fate as your friend.’
The word ‘friend’ was in italics indicating that it was used cynically, and she wondered whether it referred to Amanda or Jacqueline. Julie and Betty didn’t discuss the meaning of the letter; they didn’t need to. They both recognised the implicit message that it carried.
It had to be from Les. Ever since he had caught her in his flat she had been receiving threats in various forms; letters, phone calls at work and home, and another parcel that had arrived at work just that morning delivered by the same courier as the previous package.
This time Julie was prepared for him though. She abandoned her phone call and chased after him, stopping in time to see him mount his motorbike. She made a mental note of the number plate, and dashed back to the switchboard to jot it down in her diary before announcing to Norma in glee.
‘I’ve got the bastard this time!’
Norma looked surprised. ‘What, you mean you got his registration number?’
‘That’s right!’ said Julie before shutting the diary and replacing it in her drawer.
‘Good for you!’ said Norma. ‘Ring the police; maybe they can track him down.’
‘They won’t believe me. It’s not much to go on, is it?’
Norma shrugged noncommittally, failing to reason with her. Perhaps she had reached the conclusion that her reasoning was to no avail.
To be on the safe side Julie also scribbled down the registration number on a small piece of paper and placed it inside her purse. Maybe she was just being paranoid but recent events had had that effect on her and she wasn’t taking any chances. She might not be able to use this piece of evidence yet but it might come in useful soon enough.
First she had to see Vinny’s plan through and, once it had reached its conclusion, she felt sure that the registration number would prove useful in reigning justice on the sinister motorbike rider, but Les had to be dealt with first.
Norma withdrew her from her pensive mode by asking, ‘Don’t you want to open it?’
Julie stared at the ominous parcel as she replied, ‘Not really, but I suppose I should.’
She began to tear the paper away cautiously before lifting the lid, which was decorated with a cross, representing a coffin. Even though she had tried to mentally prepare herself it still took her by surprise.
Inside the small rectangular box was a picture, which, she guessed, must have been ripped from a horror magazine. It showed a naked woman stretched out on a bed, her body mutilated and bloody. Above her hovered a man with a dagger in his hand, his expression joyful but at the same time chilling.
Julie didn’t fail to notice the similarities between the woman and herself; she was also slim with long wavy hair. This picture represented a re-enactment of the time when Les had caught Julie in his flat; a scenario familiar only to those who shared that secret, but in this representation Vinny was absent.
Les had obviously taken into account the fact that few knew about the break-in when he had carried out this sick fantasy. He knew as well as Julie did that it proved nothing in terms of evidence, but its eerie message had a whole wealth of meaning attached to it.
Julie tried to put all thoughts of the picture out of her mind as she made her daily round of the shops during her lunch break, avoiding the hostility of the canteen, as usual.
When she returned to the office, the first thing she did was to reach inside her desk drawer for her diary, but it had vanished, proving her assumption that she had been right in taking down the registration number again.
‘My bloody diary’s gone,’ she said to Norma.
‘You’re joking!’
‘No, I put it in the drawer and it’s disappeared.’
They carried out a thorough search of the reception area but the diary was nowhere to be found. While Julie had been on her lunch break Norma had been in the manager’s office having her annual appraisal, and one of the office juniors had manned the switchboard.
‘It’s a good job I wrote the number down again and put it in my purse,’ said Julie.
‘Yes, it looks as though the mystery courier might have returned and swiped the diary while we were both away.’
That was a troubling thought; someone may have been watching the reception area from the street and waiting for an opportunity. Julie had intended to ask Norma who had manned the switchboard in their absence but they had both become so busy clearing a backlog of calls that it had slipped her mind. Despite her concerns it never re-entered her head, which was a maelstrom of anxieties at the moment. Aside from that, she was too consumed with thoughts of the disturbing threat contained in the parcel.
Chapter 31
Sunday 12th October 1986
Dan woke late. After another night at the Blue Macaw he wasn’t in the best frame of mind, especially after what he had been hearing over the last few days. He’d been dealing with Les for a few weeks now and the pressure was starting to get to him. He went to the fridge to grab himself a can of Coke, but as he stared at the empty shelf he remembered guzzling the last one the previous night. A quick scan around the rest of the fridge revealed that he was low on stocks of everything else as well. “Shit!” he thought. “That means I’ll have to go to the damn supermarket. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate.”
Before he did anything else though he knew that he had an important call to make. Once he had fixed himself something to eat with the meagre supplies that were available, he reached for the phone.
After the initial greeting the voice at the other end asked, ‘How’s it going Dan? Have you got close enough to Les yet?’
‘A bit too close for fuckin’ comfort if you ask me.’ Dan replied. ‘The guy’s a total head case. I’ve been talking to some of the tarts that he’s been with and they say he likes to slap them around. From what they’ve told me he never treated them with much respect before. What bloke does? But since Amanda died he’s gone from bad to worse.’
‘Really?’
‘Straight up. I tell you, the guy’s a fuckin’ time bomb waiting to go off. One of the girls said she was almost in fear of her life. She thinks that if she hadn’t have done what he asked then he’d have done her some serious damage.’
/> ‘Sorry Dan, I didn’t know he was that bad!’
‘Don’t worry about it mate, it comes with the territory but I’m telling you, there’s no doubt in my mind that he killed Amanda and the other girl. He’s capable of it. There’s something else a bit fishy as well. There was this guy called Ernie who introduced me to Les. He was one of the regulars in the Blue Macaw but nobody’s seen him since the night I met him. It seems like he’s just disappeared off the face of the earth.’
‘Jesus! Looks like you’d better act quickly then. He’s still sending the nasty letters as well. In fact, they’re worse than ever. I’m worried what he might do next.’
‘I’ll be acting as quick as I can, maybe tonight if the situation’s right. I want to see the back of that sick bastard.’
‘OK, mind how you go then Dan.’
‘I always do.’
--------------------
Thursday 16th October 1986
‘For God’s sake, I don’t believe it! This is turning into a damn serial killer and we’re no nearer to finding him now than we’ve ever been,’ Inspector Bowden roared throughout the office for the benefit of everyone in general. He hoped that his shouting would have the effect of shaking up his murder team and would prompt them to come up with something useful. This latest murder had shaken him. Following reports of another body, he and Sergeant Drummond had returned from the crime scene a few days previously and it wasn’t a pretty sight.
The body was found on a rubbish tip, buried several feet under the festering, malodorous waste, and it was estimated that the person had been dead for almost a month. Inspector Bowden’s guess was that somebody had carried out the killing first and dumped the body later. Whether it had been dumped directly on the tip or via some other means wasn’t yet established.
Although nobody had specifically reported Ernie Cummings as a missing person, the police had received an anonymous tip off that Ernie had not been seen around for a while. This was unusual because he used to frequent the Manchester drugs scene. Due to this tip off, the police carried out checks against the information pertaining to Ernie Cummings that they held on their system. This soon led to an identification of the body.
Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1 Page 20