The Gated Trilogy

by Matt Drabble

He leaned forward and flicked out his hand. The knife drew a thin line of blood on Patterson’s cheek and the fat man shrieked like a woman.

  “Who sent you?” he asked in a low menacing voice as he toyed with the blade in his hands. “I won’t ask you again.”

  Patterson’s eyes bulged in terror as he reached up to touch his face and his fingers came away wet with blood.

  “It was a big man. I don’t know his name but I know who he works for.”

  “Go on.”

  “Tolanson, Christian Tolanson.”

  “The MP?”

  “Yes, yes, please don’t cut me again.”

  Horton mulled the name over in his mind and tried to picture the face. He wasn’t much for politics but even he’d heard of Tolanson - the guy’s face had been everywhere lately.

  “Well now, why didn’t you say so?” He smiled, offering a hand to help Patterson up.

  Patterson climbed unsteadily back to his feet and tried in vain to brush off some of the dirt caked to his trousers.

  “And what exactly would a man like our future prime minister want with me?” he asked good-naturedly.

  Patterson picked up the box from the ground and handed it to him like a good little boy. “I was instructed not to open it so I don’t know what the message is; it’s better for me not to know.”

  Horton took the box. “Wait,” he ordered as Patterson started to leave.

  He grinned as Patterson obeyed like a scared puppy with his tail stuck firmly between his legs. His grin started to widen further as he opened the box and started to read from a sheet of paper inside.

  “Oh Detective Sutherland,” he whispered to himself. “You must have really pissed someone off.”

  He finished the note and then took the small revolver from inside the box.

  Patterson started to whimper as soon as he saw the gun. “What’s that for? Oh dear God, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, I shouldn’t be involved in any of this.”

  “Then why are you?” Horton couldn’t help but ask.

  “Tolanson did me a favour. I had a nephew who got into trouble with the police and he sorted the problem.”

  “No kidding? What was your nephew’s name?”

  “Jeremy Darin,” Patterson replied, his eyes never leaving the revolver in Horton’s hand.

  “No shit? Well isn’t it a small world; that was my case.”

  “You’re a police officer?” Patterson asked in disbelief.

  “Yep and I had to swallow a ton of shit over that case but you know what? Karma’s a bitch,” he said, starting to laugh. “A fella I know made me tank the arrest because he knows a deep dark secret about me. He says that we’re square now but how am I supposed to trust him?”

  Patterson joined in the laughter, albeit uneasily. He just wanted to leave. “Then I suppose our business is concluded,” he said, trying to move away.

  “Almost… there’s just one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  Horton shot the gun into Patterson’s face and grimaced as the back of the man’s head exploded. He stepped to the fallen body and pumped another couple of rounds into it just to make sure.

  He wiped the revolver free of his prints and dropped it onto the ground next to the body. It wouldn’t take the lab boys long to find a ballistics match as every department-assigned weapon would be traced back to its owner. Sutherland was about to find out just how much of a bitch karma really was because his service revolver had just murdered a man in cold blood.

  ----------

  Avery started the next day with a thick knot of fear in her stomach. Even if she believed a fraction of what Lomax had told her then she was willingly walking back into the lion’s den.

  Lomax had been cagey with her until she’d left for work this morning. There was still only an uneasy trust between them and she didn’t want to push it. He’d told her that Tolanson had ruined his career and sent him into hiding, but she could tell that there was more to that particular story; she’d just have to wait for him to tell it.

  The office parking lot was as busy as always when she pulled in, but the building itself looked dark and foreboding as she sat in her car not quite wanting to get out. She stared up at the windows which seemed like the deep dark sockets of an empty skull. Lomax had told her not to trust anyone in the place as her life might just depend on it.

  She’d asked him why Tolanson had picked her, but it was one of several questions that he either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer.

  As per usual she’d collected the day’s newspapers on the way in. Although the news was spread quicker by electronic media, the columnists could make or break a candidate and their endorsement was a precious commodity.

  Up until very recently she’d been working on William Montague who was a well-respected voice in the media, one that carried a lot of weight. His office had been leaving messages for her and she knew that he wanted some face time with Tolanson. Before Lomax she would have been delighted at his potential endorsement, but now she was afraid of it.

  Finally, she plastered on a sunny fake smile and plucked up the courage to exit the car. Her heels clicked noisily across the tarmac ground as she walked to the office, each echo seemingly more ominous than the one before.

  The place was buzzing as she entered and she had to fight the urge to stare at the faces flying past her at full throttle. She couldn’t accept that all of these people were under some kind of Tolanson spell; there had to be someone else like her left.

  “Avery, my dear, how are you today?”

  Tolanson’s voice startled her and she realised with terror that she’d almost screamed aloud.

  “Fine, Sir,” she covered quickly.

  “I truly wish that we had the time to allow you some rest after that… unfortunate business.”

  His eyes seemed genuine up this close and suddenly she felt her fears running away like melting ice cream. Lomax’s whole scenario was clearly ridiculous: this was no monster, this was a caring compassionate man. This was a leader, her leader, the country’s leader.

  She caught the thoughts quickly and touched a small ribbon bracelet around her wrist. Lomax had given it to her the night before and made her promise to wear it. He’d told her that its power did not emanate from magic but from her own strength. The strength to hold onto herself and her own thoughts.

  In a flash she felt Tolanson’s influence wane, and her own mind grew sharper. She could picture the night before with Lomax in Debbie’s apartment, his voice as she’d closed her eyes in what for her was a rare moment of absolute trust. He’d told her to tie the bracelet around her wrist and tie her own thoughts securely to it, to remember their conversation surrounded by Debbie’s scent and to not forget who she was.

  All of this took no more than a second or two but it was still long enough for Tolanson’s brow to furrow.

  “I’m fine, Sir,” she responded. “Well at least… you know… but hey, the show goes on, right? We’ve come this far and we’ll see it through, I promise you that.”

  Tolanson looked hard at her as if trying to read her mind. She kept one hand touching the bracelet at all times as his eyes bored into her. If Lomax was right and Tolanson was growing weaker then she knew instinctively that she wouldn’t have stood a chance against his will at full strength.

  “Very good.” He finally smiled. “Debate prep it is,” and Avery breathed again.

  ----------

  They were waiting for him outside his house and Sutherland had lived on the wrong side of the law long enough to know an arrest party when he saw one.

  He ducked into a row of shrubbery and watched intently. There was an armed response unit, all with guns drawn and dressed in intimidating black fatigues.

  Fortunately for him, he’d spent the night at Steve’s place for a burgers and beer night with more beer than burgers being consumed. Steve’s daughters had both been out for the night and it was a good chance for Steve to cut loose a little.

  He’d only nipped
home for a quick shower and he knew that was the only reason he was still alive. He recognised several of the team outside his place preparing to storm it and those he knew weren’t the sort to ask questions first. These were the guys you used when you didn’t want a suspect answering questions.

  His first thought was that maybe Donovan had betrayed him to Tolanson and this was the politician’s response, but his gut told him that wasn’t right. Donovan had screwed up yesterday when chasing after Michaels, and if anyone had to fear Tolanson, it was the kid now.

  Whoever had sent the hit squad knew every dirty cop that he did and now he wouldn’t be able to trust any of them; if there was no honour among thieves, there was even less among crooked cops.

  He slipped away back into the fields behind his house, thanking the gods that Steve had stopped him from driving home that morning because he’d still been some way over the limit. Oddly, he felt stone-cold sober now - a near brush with death did that to a man.

  He took out his phone and called Donovan, hating the fact that he was going to have to rely on a halfwit.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Donovan’s groggy voice answered.

  “It’s morning, so wake the fuck up!”

  “What’s got your goat?” Donovan yawned, unmoved by the insult.

  “There’s a hit squad outside my place right now.”

  “Bummer.”

  “I swear to God, you little shit, if you’re behind this I’ll gut you,” Sutherland snarled.

  “Cool your jets, Pops, it wasn’t me.”

  “Then who?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know? You know, you’re not exactly the easiest bloke to get along with… can’t help but think that there’d be a line a mile long of people who’d want to see you dead.”

  “If it wasn’t you then there’s only one man I know with enough juice.”

  “Who’s that then?” Donovan asked, yawning again, disinterested.

  Sutherland let the kid think for a moment; it didn’t take long.

  “Holy shit, Tolanson? You think he knows we were looking to screw him?”

  Sutherland heard the kid clamber out of his bed as some female complained sleepily in the background.

  “There’s no one outside my place,” Donovan said with relief.

  “Well now, isn’t that just dandy for you?” Sutherland snorted.

  “Hey, them’s the breaks.”

  “Well if he knows about me, how long do you think that you’re going to last?”

  “I’ll be okay,” Donovan said with bravado.

  “For how long, kid? I told you that he’s going to clean house and it looks like he’s already started. If he’s starting with me then I guarantee you’re next.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is we’d better do it fast.”

  CHAPTER 25

  GETTING READY FOR A CLOSE UP

  Tolanson was starting to feel a little more like his old self, or at least one of his old selves. He was beginning to feel more confident that his plans would bear fruit sooner rather than later and all he had to do was to concentrate fully on the matter at hand.

  He’d been right to start clearing the board of distractions. Sutherland may have been useful down the years but now he was fast becoming a liability. He would have to clear all of his pawns from the board sooner or later and he’d make an excellent start. It was time to distance himself from the filth of the gutter; he was about to become a major leader in the world and there could be no skeletons lurking about in any of his furniture.

  The other pleasing thing about today’s events had been that he was the only one not flagging. The debate prep had been long and arduous and he’d been destroying practice partners at pace. He had the facts down cold now that he was clearing space in his mind. When fully focussed, his recall of any facts and figures was truly astounding.

  “Maybe we should take a break, Sir?” Avery called out and he was pleased to see that even she was feeling the pace and looking exhausted.

  “Why? I feel great. I could do this all night.” He beamed to the weary room.

  “I’m not sure that we have any more prime minister stand-ins, Sir,” she said, motioning to the rank of men sitting beat on folding chairs at the back of the room.

  The office was laid out in exactly the same manner as the real debate would be. In spite of all of Avery’s complex negotiations, he really couldn’t have cared less about the debate’s details. All he needed was the camera trained on him and he’d take care of the rest.

  He currently stood behind a tall wooden podium on a stage with a duplicate to the side of him for his opponent. There were multiple TV screens placed around him and masses of hanging artwork depicting the real debate’s décor. The Union Jack flags hung proudly and the stage was carpeted a deep blue.

  The rest of staff were seated like an audience behind the cameras. Somehow Avery had managed to secure the use of real TV studio cameras for the day just to add the ultimate air of authenticity to the proceedings.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he replied to Avery as he looked over at the man now sagging on the podium next to him and waved him away.

  The man left gratefully after being tied in knots for the past hour or so, just another beaten victim.

  “Do we not have anyone left?” he asked, still eager for combat.

  He’d been wavering for the past few days now and it felt good to finally feel like he was in control again.

  “Sorry, Sir, Justin was the last one,” Avery answered.

  “How about you?”

  “Me, Sir?”

  “Yes, you’re a smart girl - far smarter, I’d wager, than any of the volunteers so far.” He smiled engagingly.

  “Well I’m not exactly prepped for it, Sir.”

  “Come now, let us leave false modesty at the door, my dear. I’m sure that you’re more than a match for me.”

  There was a moment in the room, one that dragged on for what seemed like an age. At first he’d offered her out just for a bit of fun, but now the air crackled with an electricity and he knew that this was more than a little fun. This woman before him had done a remarkable job on the campaign and he took great pride in having chosen her for the position. It had been his instincts that had selected her when everyone else had told him that she was too green, but he’d known that the two of them together could get him where he wanted to be, where he deserved to be, where he needed to be.

  “Come on up, Avery,” he said, waving her forwards. “You pick the topic. I can’t say fairer than that.”

  “As you wish,” she finally agreed and walked up onto the stage.

  He felt the room waken a little as Avery stepped forward. She was undoubtedly an outsider in the office, not being one of his converts, but she was well respected. For the briefest moment he felt a stab of unease as though he’d made a mistake, but his ego soon calmed his fledgling nerves. She may well have been an extremely capable woman, but he was a god.

  “Well then, where shall we start?” he asked magnanimously.

  “To be honest I think that you’ve been superb all day, Sir. But we have to bear in mind the perception problem.”

  “Perception problem?”

  “Yes, Sir. You see, we will already have a bump in people’s opinions if you manage to at least hold your own against the prime minister. He will be the recognisable face out there; the Nationalists have been in power for a long time now while the Progressive Party have long been seen as… well… weak, for want of a better word.”

  “Go on.”

  “You see, Sir, the people will not be expecting a strong charismatic Progressive Party leader; we will have to change their thoughts on what they believe the party stands for. The world is a scary place today and voters want a strong leader in charge, they want to feel safe and they want the prime minister to give them that security. Knowles tracks well with his stances on migration and crime.”

  “Whereas the
Progressive Party are seen as weak-kneed?”

  “Exactly, Sir. Now that we’ve closed the gap in the polls on Knowles and you’ve tested fantastically well when people have met you in person, we just have to use the cameras to project that strength through the lens and into people’s homes.”

  Tolanson smiled and nodded along; projecting himself through the lens was exactly the plan.

  “So why don’t we work on that side of the debate? How about the threat of terror attacks on home soil?”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “Who shall begin?”

  “Why don’t you give out your thoughts, Sir, and let me challenge?”

  “Fine,” he said, preparing himself. “People of Britain,” he said to the camera, “we all know that the world today is a dangerous place. We face threats from both outside and within our own borders and now is not the time to shy from the difficult decisions that we must make.” He banged his fist down on the podium for emphasis.

  “Good,” Avery added.

  “Now, my opponent has seen nothing but an increase in the dangers facing our own country’s security under his party’s rule and I say that it’s time for change. It is time for a new approach and a change to the old routine, a routine that has failed us and will continue to fail our children for generations to come.”

  A ripple of applause broke out from the back of the room but he didn’t take much pride in it. The place was stuffed with his own converts: men and women who would applaud wildly if he got on stage and farted on a snare drum.

  “This is the usual bland meaningless rhetoric that we can expect from those sitting on the outside looking in,” Avery announced loudly. “While Mr Tolanson wants to shout and bawl about the dangers of the world, he has neither the experience nor the acumen to deal with such a large and complex subject as national security. I say that this is a grown-up problem for grown-ups to deal with.”

  “And how exactly have you been dealing with the subject, Mr Knowles, during the past four years?”

  “Good, but call him Prime Minister,” Avery added. “This is the man in the top chair. Whenever you’re bringing up the government’s failings never miss the chance to remind the people that he runs the place.”