by Jake Barton
"We took it steady as far as the park," Jimmy continued.
"Did you see anyone else?"
Jimmy shook his head. "Some old boy on a push bike, that’s all. He passed us on Banks Road; don’t know where he was off to at that time of the morning. I remember saying something to Alex, about how he was probably doing the same as us. You know, exercising off the ale from the night before?"
"An old boy, you said?"
"Yeah. I only saw him from the back, but he must have been getting on a bit 'cause he was on one of those old sit up and beg bikes, you know? Nobody our age would be seen dead on one of them, right? When we reached the park, the gates were locked, but we got in through the hedge at the side. I’ve been doing that for years, ever since they started locking the gates at night. That’s a sign of the times, isn’t it, having to lock up a public park? There’ve been problems with kids riding motorbikes after dark. They don’t bother keeping to the paths and do a lot of damage. Anyway, like I said, the gates were locked when I got there, but there’s always ways to get in, if you know where to look."
"It seems he knew about them too. The other man, I mean."
"Yeah, he must have done. It was very dark on the path. I never saw him coming. One minute we were running along the path, next minute this nutter steps out from behind the bushes and whacks Alex on the head with a baseball bat. That or a fucking pickaxe handle. There was just a little light from a street light on the road past the church. The rest was darkness, until the mad sod turned and I saw the knife gleaming. I never saw his face, just the knife-"
Donna raised her hand and he stopped in mid-sentence, practically in mid-word. "Sorry to interrupt," Donna said. "He definitely had a knife?"
Jimmy nodded, seeming annoyed at the interruption. Gary tapped him on the arm. "Go on, Jimmy," he said.
"I just took off when I saw the fucking knife. Didn’t think about it at the time, just ran. He came after me. I could hear him, twenty or so yards behind. I couldn’t hear my own footsteps, well only just, but I could hear him behind me. He had shoes on, not leather soles, but heavier than trainers, you know? A different sound to my running shoes."
"Was it still dark?"
"Oh God, yes, pitch black. I could just about make out the edges of the path. I was running flat out, but the footsteps kept pace with me. He was keeping up, even in shoes, and I was just wearing shorts and a running vest."
"He was fit then?"
"Bloody fit. I’m on the track team, not a star athlete or anything but pretty good." He looked across at Gary, as if seeking confirmation. Gary nodded for him to go on.
"He was keeping up with me, that’s what I’m trying to say. When I ran off I never imagined he could catch me."
Gary leant forward, his attention fixed on Jimmy. "Which way did you go?" Christ, Donna thought, Gary’s running the show now. Not that she said anything. It was a good question.
"Past the bowling green, then straight across the Wirral Way into the top park."
"Why not go down the Wirral Way?"
"Too fucking dangerous, that’s why. Pitch black and all ruts and bumps. Easy to break a bloody ankle. I set off for the top gate, the one by the Church, but then I remembered I couldn’t get out that way until they unlock the gates, so I ran along the top path towards the far gate. You can get out through the railings there even when the gates are locked." He took a deep pull on his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then continued. He spoke directly to Gary, but Donna didn’t mind. At least he was talking.
"I had a good start, but he was still there behind me. I was running as fast as I could when the footsteps just stopped. I kept on running, didn’t slow down at all. There was no way out, until I got to the end of the path, another half mile at least. I kept on going flat out, wanting to put some distance between us. Then I heard him go down. He was almost next to me, no more than five yards on my left. He’d gone across the grass, to cut me off."
"A short cut?"
"Well, yeah, I suppose. The path goes round the edge of the park, curves around past some flowerbeds, following the line of the railings. He’d left the path, that’s why I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, gone onto the grass. He would have caught me if he hadn’t fallen."
"The grass was slippery?"
"Too fucking right it was. It had been raining most of the night. The path had dried off, apart from the odd puddle, but the grass was soaking. That’s why I kept to the path."
"He knew the area well then, didn’t he?"
"He must have done. He would have cut me off if he hadn’t fallen. He fell heavily, obviously running flat out, same as me. When I heard him go down it gave me a hell of a fright. I didn’t expect him, there, certainly not so close. I ran like the fucking wind for the other exit. Squeezed through the railings and fucked off out of there. I ran to the end of the little road, well it’s a sort of slip road, where it joins the main road, past some garages and workshops. I’ll show you." Jimmy pulled a piece of paper out of his inside pocket and drew a rough plan of the area. The path curved around the outside edge of the park. He pointed at the sketch. "I ran here, past the bowling green and up the ramp over the Wirral Way, leading to the top park. Thought I’d lose him easy enough, but he stayed with me. I really thought he’d given up because I couldn’t hear him any more, but still carried on running hard."
Donna borrowed his pen and drew a dotted line across the paper. "This is where he cut across the grass?"
"Yeah, well a bit straighter, but that’s the idea."
"And it was dark?"
"Really pitch black."
"So, he knew the path well, knew he could get across to head you off."
"Yes, he would have done too, if he hadn’t fallen."
"You didn’t go to the police about this at the time." Donna pointed out. It was not a question. "Never mind, at least we know about it now. That’s a big help Jimmy."
"I don’t see how."
"We know he’s fit, very fit you’d say?" Donna confirmed. Jimmy nodded.
"And he knew the area," Donna continued. "Knew how to get into the park when the gates were locked; he knew the path curved around the edge of the park; knew it well enough to be confident of catching you in the dark. Either he’s local or he’s spent a lot of time there, that’s very useful. Someone will have seen him. Anything else you can think of, any idea of his height or build?"
Jimmy shook his head. "I just saw a shape. By the sound of his footsteps, I’d say he was smaller than me, shorter, the stride pattern, you know?" Donna nodded. "But that’s a guess," Jimmy continued. "I’m just going on the sound of him, his footsteps. He ran properly, on his toes, but his shoes were street shoes not running shoes."
"Did he cry out when he fell?"
"No, but he should have done. He fell heavily. He must have been running very fast when his feet went from under him and he didn’t cry out or anything. I went back half an hour later to see if Alex was all right, but he’d gone. Made himself scarce, I reckon."
Donna paid Jimmy and she and Gary took their drinks over to a corner table. "Any use, do you think?" Gary asked.
"Buggered if I know," Donna replied.
*****
Celine broke down completely when the boot lid was opened and she found herself back in the woods. Marcus slapped her face three times and she stopped crying, cringing on the floor. He pulled her to her feet, pushing her in front of him towards the shore.
"Told you I was taking you home, didn’t I?" he said, bundling her into the tiny dinghy and preparing to row back to the island.
*****
Andy was waiting on the step when they got back to the house. Donna let them in and they walked upstairs, Donna calling out to Peg that they were back. They sat down, Gary on the sofa, Andy and Donna on chairs.
Donna avoided the sofa – too many recent memories to be able to share it with Gary without turning beetroot once again. Andy provided chapter and verse on Gary’s house. Nothing had been
saved and the fire investigator was convinced it was arson. Some inflammable substance, as yet unknown, had been used to intensify the blaze. "Insurance fiddle, they reckoned," Andy said. Gary snorted.
Andy knew of their visit to the fire scene, and also knew that Dexter had advised against it. Donna knew she could rely on him to say nothing. Menials would always unite against a common enemy. Not that Dexter was an enemy as such, but he was their Line Manager with all that entailed.
"Roper wants me back by one," Andy said, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "Seems there’s been another note. Await a ‘phone call at two o’clock with the ransom demands."
"What about me?"
Andy hesitated. "He said you were to go into the office and help Martha deal with the post." Now Donna understood his embarrassment.
"It was supposed to be my fucking case," she bellowed angrily.
Gary made a soothing sound. "Don’t shoot the messenger, Donna," he said quietly.
Donna nodded an apology to Andy. Gary was right. It wasn’t his fault.
"Ring Dexter," Andy suggested. "See what he says."
"I won’t be left out of things while you lot deal with my case," Donna fumed, more quietly now after her first outburst. "Certainly not to sit in the office with bloody Martha."
"Who’s Martha?" Gary asked. Andy winced.
"She’s Roper’s bloody sister and I can’t stand the woman. I’ve tried, but I just can’t relate to her."
Andy smiled sympathetically. "God help the rest of us then." Donna looked at him sharply. "I thought you might have had something in common, female solidarity, that sort of thing."
"Oh come on. Me and Martha?"
Well, perhaps not," Andy conceded. "I’ve never taken much of a shine to her either."
Gary cleared his throat. "Well, you wouldn’t would you?" he said. Andy looked at him sharply. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Gary smiled. "Come on," he said. "Did you think I didn’t know you’re as queer as a coot?" Andy glared at Donna. Gary shook his head. "Don’t blame Donna, she didn’t tell me. She can keep a secret."
Andy screwed his eyes tightly shut, as if the assimilation of this information caused him pain. Donna showed her concern by touching his arm. He opened his eyes and smiled. He looked at Gary. "How did you know then?"
Gary sipped his coffee, taking an age to reply. "It’s the way you stir your coffee," he said. "Anti-clockwise. It’s a dead give-away is that."
"God, you nearly had me there," Andy said, laughing as Gary maintained a straight face. "Come on, really. How did you know?"
"Oh, it’s been obvious since you walked in."
He saw the shock on Andy’s face. "I’m an artist. I work with creative people. That means I see a lot of gay men. I suppose I recognised the signs. You’re just so careful, too bloody careful. It’s no big deal, is it?"
"I suppose not. It’s just a shock to find out I’m so bloody obvious, that’s all." He looked across to Donna. "You don’t suppose Roper knows, do you?
Donna grimaced. "Not a chance. I can just imagine his reaction. Poofters on the staff? Whatever next?" Donna stopped awkwardly. Andy waved his hand. He’d obviously heard the expression many times before.
"Dexter knows." Gary’s words sent a chill through Donna and she glanced at Andy to check his reaction. "I’ll guarantee it. He’s too bloody sharp not to have picked up on it by now. I shouldn’t worry, he’s a pro. As long as you do your job, and keep your hands to yourself, he’ll be happy."
"He needn’t worry, I don’t fancy him in the slightest." Andy paused to look at Gary. "I don’t fancy you either." The other man smiled, patting his heart in pretence of relief. "Anyway," Andy continued. "I can see you’re spoken for."
"What?" It was Donna’s turn to be shocked. Andy smiled wickedly, nodding at Gary. "Did you think you’re the only one who can suss things out? I’m pleased for you both. About bloody time, Donna, I’d almost given up on you."
Donna got up and went to look for Peg who was in the kitchen. On her return, Andy and Gary were sharing a beer and pissing themselves laughing. Donna had been worried about Gary’s revelations upsetting Andy, but saw she had no reason to worry. "I see you two are getting on like a house on fire," Donna said, realising as soon as she’d spoken that her words were unfortunate. That was putting it mildly. Andy looked at Gary and they both burst into further peals of laughter.
Donna scowled. "I’ll never understand men. If my house had just burnt down and someone had said that to me, I’d have been in floods of tears. Instead of which, you two lunatics are laughing your bloody heads off."
She left them to it and went to ring Dexter. He answered on the first ring. "Andy’s told you then?"
Donna started some gibberish about being sidelined from her own case by Roper when he interrupted. "My idea, Donna," he said quietly. "Not Roper’s. I’m not sidelining you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still very much part of the case. But, there’s no point in having all of us tied down waiting for a bloody ‘phone call. I didn’t suggest you go back to deal with the post though. That must have been Roper’s idea. I assume you’re not keen on the idea?"
"No, I bloody well am not."
"Forget it, then. Let Martha deal with it herself, she’s better at it than you are anyway. I’d rather you got some rest, pace yourself and await any developments. That way I’ve got fresh legs and fresh minds ready to go if anything breaks. Why don’t you take Peg out for lunch, if it’s not too late?"
Donna’s anger subsided. Bloody Dexter was so good at switching things around. Now she almost wanted to thank him for his consideration.
Instead, she filled him in on her interview with Jimmy. He grunted.
"I think Alex is part of the problem somehow," Donna said.
"It’s worth considering," Dexter replied.
"What that means is you think its bollocks."
"I didn’t say that."
"You didn’t have to. I know you. If you think something’s rubbish, but you don’t want to cause offence, you say it’s interesting or worth considering. I’d much rather you told me straight out what you think."
Silence.
"What I said is what I meant," he said eventually. "It’s worth considering."
"Yeah, sure."
"Donna," he said. "Have it your own way. You’re talking bollocks." The phone went dead.
She went back to where Gary was seeing Andy out as if he were his best mate. Donna felt a pang of jealousy. Stupid cow.
Gary came back and gave her a hug and she felt better. She told him what Dexter had said.
"Good idea," Gary said. "Take Peg out for lunch. Go on the bike if you want." Donna glared at him. "With Peg? No bloody fear."
" What about Peg?" Peg stuck her long nose round the door. Talk of the bloody Devil.
"Nothing."
Peg scowled, looking across at Gary. "I was just saying to Donna," he said. "Why don’t you two go out for lunch? You can go on the bike if you want. Do you good to get a bit of fresh air." As Peg practically skipped up the stairs to get ready, Donna punched Gary in the chest.
*****
Donna sat next to Peg in the beer garden, keeping one eye on Gary’s motorbike. A couple of young lads had been admiring it a while back and Donna didn’t want it to go missing while it was in her charge. Peg was carrying on about how she’d have liked to have gone somewhere a bit further out, somewhere they could have really opened up the bike. Peg, the frustrated Hell’s Angel. Donna ignored her.
The "Ring o’ Bells" was only half a mile or so up the road, but they’d had a good lunch and the beer garden was a real suntrap. Donna had borrowed a helmet for Peg from one of the neighbours and plonked her on the pillion, eager to get this over with, but actually she’d enjoyed it. She would have liked a longer run out herself, but not with her Granny as a passenger.
A black Labrador wandered hopefully between the tables, picking up dropped crisps and turning hopeful brown eyes in the direction of anyone eatin
g food. He found a likely prospect in a young man with a bag of crisps seated opposite them on the next table. The dog rested his big square head on the man’s knee, sighing heavily – a sigh of extreme deprivation and imminent starvation. Works every time, Donna thought as the fat Labrador was sent away with a mouthful of crisps as a leaving present.
Her mobile rang and Donna cursed under her breath. Might have known enjoying this bit of sunshine was too good to last. She flipped open the ‘phone.
Andy. He sounded agitated.
"Donna, where the fuck are you?"
"The Ringies, enjoying the sunshine. Why?"
"It’s all gone mad here. We’re all sitting down waiting by the ‘phone, when there’s a ring at the door. We got all excited, but it turned out to be a bunch of flowers for Mrs Dobson. It’s only her bloody birthday, isn’t it? She’d not even given it a thought. While she shot off to put them in water, Dobson’s telling us how his secretary had probably sent the flowers on his behalf. The sort of thing she did all the time, had birthdays and anniversaries marked in her diary. Anyway, next thing we hear is Paula’s car driving off, not a word to anyone. Dexter left me here to mind the ‘phone and he, Roper and Dobson all shot off after her. She’s got the ransom with her."
"What ransom?"
"Ten thousand quid. Dobson was all set to pay up the minute he got the word as to where and when, had it on the kitchen table all ready to deliver. Paula snatched it and buggered off. I doubt they’ll get near her, that little Mazda of hers will take some catching."
"A blue MX5?"
"Yeah, that’s right."
"It’s bloody well here. Passed me while you were talking."
"Get after it then. Keep the line open and I’ll tell Dexter where you are." Donna told Peg in as few words as possible what had happened. "Come on then," Peg said, buckling her helmet. "After her."
"Oh no, you wait here. I’ll be as quick as I can."
"Sod that," said Peg, climbing onto the pillion seat. Donna blinked at her audacity. "Come on, Donna, move it." Donna gave up and jumped on the bike. The Mazda had gone past going downhill, right indicator blinking. Donna swung out of the car park and turned sharp right down the narrow twisty section of Church Road. She opened up the bike on the short straight bit, Peg squeezing hard around her waist.