‘Good morning, sir,’ McFarland said.
‘Good morning again, James. Good morning, Terry,’ Jasper smiled. ‘I’m sure you both know Kyle?’
‘Mr Secretary…’ McFarland said greeting Kyle. Terry gestured, nodding his head once. Kyle Moran’s official capacity was that of Secretary of New Scotland Yard. In the eyes of the Metropolitan Police, he was God and Jasper was Jesus – although unofficially it was the other way round. Kyle was a man never to be crossed.
‘So, Terry… you want back in?’ Kyle asked, his face stern.
‘I never said I wanted back in, Kyle.’
‘Terry… it’s Mr Secretary,’ McFarland stated, worried that this had started badly.
‘No, McFarland, its Kyle, whilst I’m still a civilian.’
‘It’s only a matter of time Terry… before you come back,’ the hardened man replied. ‘It’s the only way that you’ll get your press conference.’
‘My press conference?’ Terry looked amazed, ‘Jasper, you called on me for help. I only offered my help, not my soul.’
‘Terry, I would never allow you to be a spokesman for The Yard, unless you rejoined the family, and you’re not dim enough to have thought otherwise,’ Jasper said, joining the conversation.
‘Is that the offer?’
‘Let’s leave the past where it belongs Terry, in the past,’ Kyle said taking a small step forward. ‘You know how we play the game here,’ he added, holding out his hand. ‘Please, shake my hand Terry. We were all under the cosh back in the day and we had to get the job done. OK we won’t ever exchange Christmas cards, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t move on. Does it?’
‘Let’s cut to the chase,’ Terry said as he shook Kyle’s hand. ‘Cards on the table time.’
‘You rejoin the family and it’s your call, and your case.’
‘McFarland?’
‘My place in heaven is guaranteed, mate,’ McFarland grinned.
‘OK, where do I sign?’
‘Jasper will make the address, then you’ll read from the script and open the floor to the Q and As.’
‘And after?’
‘And after… what?’
‘This has all been put to bed; The Ultimate has been locked up.’
‘Once a result has been achieved, is that what you mean?’
‘Yes, that is exactly what I mean, Mr Secretary.’
‘Business as usual, as per the status quo. Your days as a reporter will be a distant memory.’
‘OK, show me the script.’
***
Jasper led the way followed by McFarland and Terry. The room was very noisy. Camera lenses began to click as soon as Terry emerged from behind McFarland.
‘OK, OK, please calm down,’ Jasper yelled. The room fell into silence. ‘You all know who I am, but for the record, I am Chief Inspector Jasper Ward. To my left, you have Detective Inspector James McFarland and to my right, Mr Terry Bane, Former Detective Inspector and the leading Detective Inspector In Charge.’ Jasper looked at Terry, and gave him a small smile. Camera shutters made a frantic united click. ‘I will invite questions once we have finished our announcement,’ Jasper said trying to maintain order. ‘To bring you all up to speed – Detective Inspector In Charge Bane was approached by New Scotland Yard to assist in the apprehension of the person who is solely responsible for two recent brutal crimes. I am going to pass you over to D.I.I.C. Bane who has a brief to give you and then questions will be welcomed. Let me please ask for your complete co-operation while the brief is given, thank you. Terry...’
‘OK, as you know there have been a couple of brutal killings recently, linked by a man in a shiny black suit. We are no closer to catching this guy than we were at the beginning of the investigation.’
Some of the journalists started barking like dogs.
‘Come on, please calm down!’ Jasper ordered. ‘If you don’t let him speak, we’ll have to call a halt to this press conference!’
‘Thank you,’ Terry said holding his hands in the air. ‘As I was saying… we have been contacted by a male calling himself “The Ultimate”. We know that this is a genuine claim, but as you are well aware, I am unable to divulge why we know this. We owe it to the victims, Brain James and Hector Hylie, we also owe it to the victims’ families so I implore anybody who thinks they might have any information surrounding recent events to come forward. I can guarantee complete anonymity and confidentiality. Without your help, we are blind. This man is among you; he is out there walking and stalking our streets. Until we catch him and put him behind bars, where he belongs, those streets, our streets, are his. We urge you not to try to apprehend this man alone, call for assistance. He is a truly dangerous person; the details of these horrendous crimes clearly spell that out. We are going to make a freephone number available twenty-four hours a day until we catch this criminal,’ Terry paused for a sip of water. ‘Now ask your questions one at a time.’
‘Blake Ward, the London Echo. Are you admitting that you haven’t made any progress?’
‘That’s not what I said, we’re just trying to use the media to gain as much coverage as we can; that is why we are asking for your help today.’
‘Fulton Myers, the Daily Telegraph. Isn’t this what The Ultimate wants… to be in the headlines? You’re playing in to his hands, giving him his glory.’
‘No, Mr Myers, I disagree. He dresses in black, he leaves no trace of his presence at any of the scenes. None of the victims, or witnesses, can give us any kind of a firm description. He wants to remain anonymous. That is why he fades to black.’
‘Blake Ward, the London Echo. What’s he hoping to achieve?’
‘We’re not sure on that; we think that there’s a link, but until we are certain…’
‘Fulton Myers, the Daily Telegraph. How long have you been working on this case?’
Terry looked at Jasper, who nodded his approval. ‘The day I reported the first murder, I was approached and I had a meeting with New Scotland Yard.’
‘Who approached you?’ Fulton Myers fired back.
‘You know that’s strictly confidential, Mr Myers,’ Terry smiled.
‘Bill Davis, the Sun. Both victims have been male, does that mean that women are safe?’
‘No Bill, that’s not true. It would be foolish for us to assume that. The first murder victim was male, though the person who murdered him wasn’t. It is too early to guess any kind of pattern and it would be foolish if we were to make any assumptions.’
‘Blake Ward, the London Echo. Do you have any idea what his motives are? Or is that a foolish question?’ Intermittent laughter followed, though only briefly.
‘At the moment, we have a number of theories, but until we are sure, we would only be guessing – as you would be foolish to guess, Mr Ward. We need your help,’ Terry had warmed to this reporter.
‘Gill Morgan, the Times. Why “The Ultimate”?’
‘That, Mrs Morgan, is something we don’t know, we think he is some sort of vigilante who sees himself as giving the ultimate justice. All we do know is that he is going to strike again and again until he is caught.’
‘Gill Morgan, The Times. When do you think he’ll strike again?’
‘The only honest answer to that is soon. He will continue until he is caught. At this time, it is too early for us to gauge any kind of time pattern. But we don’t intend on giving him enough time to establish one.’
‘Gareth Charles, the Standard. I think that my colleagues and I would be more than happy to ensure that this appeal is printed on the front page of tonight’s edition of the Standard.’
‘Thank you. I would respectfully request that you all do that. It goes without saying that we hope this is going to make the front page of all your papers. That way we can get as much coverage as possible.’
‘OK, thank you ladies and gentlemen,’ Jasper concluded.
‘Thank you all,’ Terry added.
‘Do you want Mr Ward silenced, Terry?’
�
�No don’t, we need him. He’s done us a lot of good and he knows it,’ Terry said calmly. ‘He did that on purpose.’
‘Why?’ McFarland asked.
‘To demonstrate that we meant what we were saying, that we weren’t just trying to lay down a smokescreen; that we are not just guessing. McFarland, the press have always thought that we have always held back the truth until a case is solved. He thought that by directing his questions the way he did, my answers would demonstrate that we truly showed them, and the British public, our hand and that our cards are on the table. Now, The Ultimate, who I can guarantee would have been watching this – will be fucking pissed off and this will hopefully force him to play his next card. We have won over Mr Blake Ward, along with all his fellow journalists, but I think he didn’t need winning over. You remove the smoke from their eyes and they can report with better clarity, mate,’ Terry said, placing his arm on the shoulder of the Scotsman.
‘Welcome back Terry,’ McFarland chuckled.
‘It feels like I never left,’ Terry laughed.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Greg waited, surrounded by the darkness of the foliage. His thoughts traced back to the charade that he had watched on his television. He needed to block it out and remain focused on the task at hand. Control was everything. He watched intently as Valerie parked her car; his heart began to race. He continued to watch and wait until she had gone in to the building, allowing Valerie and Conrad enough time to occupy themselves.
His body started to shake as the adrenalin started to rush its way through his bloodstream. He could hear the echo of his own heartbeat as his nerves tried to kick in. The thrill was getting bigger every time.
Greg made his way across the road and in to the building. Once outside the main entrance, he used his snap gun to pick the lock. He was standing in the main hallway within seconds. He darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, but stopped and smiled at the front door to Conrad’s flat. Carefully, he placed his ear to the door, the noise coming from inside confirmed it was time for him to make his entrance. He quickly used the snap gun and, closing the door quietly behind him, Greg walked softly to the bedroom where Valerie was facing the bottom of the bed, with her back to Conrad, jumping up and down like a rodeo rider. Valerie opened her eyes for a split second, seeing Greg’s silhouette, she stopped dead.
‘Let me give it to you from behind,’ Conrad said, completely lost in his own pleasure, unaware of Valerie’s reason for halting.
‘What?’ Valerie was shocked at seeing their uninvited guest.
‘Please finish. I can wait,’ Greg said calmly.
‘Conrad!’ Valerie said, too shocked to be alarmed.
Conrad pushed Valerie off, and attempted to stand up as to confront Greg. Greg stepped forward and struck Conrad with the back of his fist. Conrad fell backwards onto the bed, then, without control, he slid awkwardly on to the floor.
‘Stay down,’ Greg ordered.
‘I’ll fucking kill you!’ Conrad’s threat fuelled with anger.
Greg calmly raised his right arm, aimed the taser gun at Conrad and squeezed the trigger. Two electrically-charged probes fired in to Conrad’s abdomen causing him to convulse violently. His eyeballs rolled around until only the whites of his eyes were visible. Greg stepped forward and took a tube of pepper spray out from a compartment concealed in his belt and sprayed Conrad directly in his eyes. He released the trigger of the taser gun, stopping any further electrical discharge, turning the taser gun in Valerie’s direction.
‘No, no, no! Please no!’ she pleaded. Panic-stricken, she tried to hide behind one of the pillows that had been pushed up against the headboard.
‘Keep your voice down and I won’t hurt you.’ Greg’s voice was chillingly controlled.
Conrad had now entered into a state of semi-consciousness. Valerie froze. She glanced at Conrad.
‘He can’t help you now, Valerie.’
Greg put both items back in his suit and pulled out some zip ties. Conrad still had not recovered from the electric shock and was struggling to breathe as he passed out.
‘That makes that a little easier,’ Greg said, as though it was all in a day’s work for him.
Greg zipped Conrad’s thumbs together and then his big toes. Greg then manoeuvred Conrad, laying him back on the bed next to Valerie. ‘Valerie, he’s a big lad, isn’t he?’ Greg confirmed.
‘If you want money, my handbag is in the other room!’
‘Valerie Hope… Mrs Valerie Hope, please tell me how long you’ve been shagging Conrad behind your husband’s back?’
‘What? Is he behind this? Has Brent paid you to do this?’
‘Mr Brent Hope has no idea. He doesn’t know anything about this… yet!’
‘Who are you? What do you want?’ Valerie was petrified and couldn’t understand how this was happening.
‘Valerie, Valerie, Valerie… don’t you watch the news? I’m all over the news at the moment. I’m the hot topic, the latest headline.’
‘What are you on about?’
‘Oh dear, Valerie. Let’s wait for big boy to wake up first, I don’t want to have to go through it all twice. Nice tits by the way. I bet Conrad has never thought to thank Brent for those.’ Greg laughed.
‘Fuck off!’ Valerie replied covering up. She was silent for a few moments whilst her mind raced. ‘Oh shit you’re… you’re…that bloke in the rubber suit aren’t you? What is it they call you?’ Tears began to drip off her chin.
‘They call me “The Ultimate”.’
‘What?’
‘I’m the person that will see that the scum that has been allowed to breed in our society is culled. I will make sure that the filth is cleaned and all the stains they have created are removed.’
‘Are you going to kill me?’ she asked fearfully.
‘No, Valerie. I’m not going to kill anyone.’
Conrad began to move. His eyes were still burning. He was struggling to breathe. ‘Who the fuck sent you?’ he murmured, his throat burning.
‘Oh good, I’m glad you could join us.’
‘Cocky fucker, aren’t you?’ Conrad barked in reply.
Greg walked over to the bed and raised his right leg, hovering the flat plain sole of his boot in front of Conrad’s face.
‘You are not in a position to be speaking to me like that. Please don’t make me hurt you.’
‘OK, OK,’ Conrad humbled.
‘I am here to right all the wrong that you two have brought in to the world. I really feel for Brent, he is the victim here – so I’m victim support,’ Greg laughed.
‘What?’ Valerie asked, astounded.
‘This is a listening exercise Val, so shut the fuck up and listen. In a moment, I’m going to give Brent a call and let him know where we all are. I’m also going to let him know what you two have been up to, and for God knows how long. I will invite him to join us; he will then see the pair of you with his own eyes. Who knows what will happen once the realisation kicks in and he finds out what his wife has been up to behind his back. All this time he thought you were playing bridge or something.’
‘What’s going to happen to us?’ Conrad asked.
‘Well, that will be up to Brent to decide. I think that he’s not going to be too pleased to see you both. I think he’s going to hurt you Conrad. I think he’s going to hurt you bad. I’m not sure what he’ll do to you though… I would not want to be either of you,’ Greg said, looking at Valerie. ‘May I?’ he continued, as he picked up the cordless telephone that was sitting on the bedside table. He dialled Brent’s mobile number from memory.
‘Good evening, Brent.’
‘Good evening. To whom am I speaking?’ Brent enquired.
‘That’s not important, what is important is who I am with,’ Greg paused for a reaction.
‘OK, enough of the games. What is it you want?’ Brent had never been patient.
‘Direct, straight to the point, I like that. I am standing in the bedroom of a flat th
at is owned by the man who is fucking your wife. He has been fucking your wife for some time now.’ Greg paused. ‘Please don’t ask me how long this deception has been going on for, because I don’t know… What might be a good idea, is if you come over here and ask her for yourself.’
‘What?’ Brent could not digest this information. ‘What did you just say?’ Brent shook, dropping the glass he was holding.
‘Exactly what you thought I said. I have your wife here and I must say that she does have fantastic tits, they must have cost you.’
‘What do you want… money? I have money…’ Brent became worried.
‘No, this isn’t about money. I want you to come along and join the party to see for yourself what your slut of a wife has been up to behind your back.’
‘OK,where are you?’
‘Brent… be sure that you come alone, otherwise I won’t be able to guarantee Val’s safety if you know what I mean?’
‘You have my word, the word of a Mason, please don’t hurt my wife.’ Oddly Brent had become fearful for his wife’s safety.
‘She doesn’t realise how much you love her… OK we are at flat 5a, Lavender Gardens. Do you know where that is?’
‘Yes,’ Brent was already contemplating alerting the police.
‘Remove that thought from your head, Brent. I think you know that I am not playing games here, this is the real deal. You have ten minutes,’ Greg ended the conversation abruptly.
‘What kind of sick game are you playing?’ Valerie asked.
‘I am a firm believer that ye shall reap what ye shall sow. For a long time now, you have treated your husband as a means to an end. If it wasn’t for his money you would have left him a long time ago.’ Greg stopped and pointed at Conrad. ‘He doesn’t want you. He is a habitual adulterer, responsible for many a marriage break-up, a homewrecker. Conrad, why is it that you can’t find your own fruit, you have to have the forbidden type?’ Greg was becoming agitated by Brent’s awaited arrival.
‘I don’t know, but I promise that I won’t look at another married woman again, how’s that?’ Conrad pleaded.
‘Not my decision I’m afraid, it’s out of my hands. We’ll see what Brent thinks… speak of the devil.’
The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To Page 21