by Liz Mistry
When I saw her climb the stile at the end of the field, I drove into their drive. The car I’d stolen was a C-Max with those slidey side doors. Stupid cow made it easy, coming right up to me, smiling. I just stuck the needle in and let her fall to the ground before jumping out and dragging her into the backseat. She was still unconscious when I got her back here. Took no time to drag her onto the trolley and cable-tie her in place. Stupid, trusting fool. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
Just because I can, I kick her again. She doesn’t react, and her head lolls to one side with the momentum. I prise her eyelid open and her eyeball rolls back. Her chest rises and falls, so I knew she’s alive. I don’t want to make the same mistake I made with the other nigger. I’ll be much more careful this time. Hmm, I don’t want to stay here keeping guard, on the other hand, I don’t want her coming-to and screaming her head off either … just in case. I look around and find just what I need. Yanking her head back with her hair, and using my elbow to steady it, I insert an oily rag in her mouth. If she wakes up, she’ll not be able to make a noise, and into the bargain, the taste of that would be horrid. Win-win situation then. I move behind her and tip the trolley back at an angle and wheel her to the darkest corner of the garage. I’m not taking any chances this time. I still need to think about where I’m going to dump her body. Aah, I’ll do that over a nice cup of tea.
I slap her face … just to double-check. No response.
‘Bye-bye for now. I’ll see you soon, and then, we can have lots of fun.’
Chapter 87
08:15 Shay Farm, Shay Lane
By the time Gus arrived at his parents’ house, the SOCO team, led by Hissing Sid, was already there. The drive was large with enough space for at least four vehicles and still with room to sweep around, rather than do a three-point turn. Both of his parent’s cars were most likely in the garage, and most of the drive was taken up by SOCO vans and a large perimeter sealed off with crime scene tape. His sister Katie’s Range Rover was half on the grass verge outside the drive, as if it had been abandoned rather than parked. Gus wedged his car just behind it and got out. He knew Compo and the team were going through every builder, sub-contractor and employee Weston had on his books. Anybody who may have had access to their files. He wished Sebastian Carlton would get back to him with an updated profile. There were two anomalies to consider now. First, the attempted abduction of Jez Hopkins, and now his mum.
For once, Sid, his face serious, only nodded as Gus walked around the perimeter to enter the house, shouting, over his shoulder, ‘I’ll be out in a minute, Sid. Fucking find me something … anything to go on.’
The house seemed airless, as if all the joy had been sucked out of it, and Gus realised it was the absence of his mother that lay heavy in the air. Even the dogs hadn’t respond to his entrance … a sure indication things were not okay in the McGuire house.
Taking a deep breath, Gus moved to the kitchen where he could hear his father’s low rumble and the lighter tone of his sister talking. He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. The faint smell of singed toast hung in the air, making his eyes well up. Shit, he’d give anything to have his mum come bouncing over, pulling him down for a kiss on his cheek. His dad sat at the end of the table, a mug of coffee untouched before him. Both of his dogs lay, ears back, at his feet, large eyes staring dolefully up at his father. Bingo was on his dad’s knee, and as if sensing the older man’s pain, he merely glanced at his owner before turning back and continuing his silent vigil.
Fergus McGuire’s bulbous nose was redder than usual, and a pile of tissues scattered over the table told Gus he’d been weeping. His heart contracted as anger flooded him. How dare this bastard do this? His hands clenched into tight fists, his nails digging deep into his palms as he imagined what he’d do to the fucker when he caught him. He’d never seen his dad look so bereft, so broken, and he felt helpless … useless. What could he do?
The only thing he could do was find his mum and bring her back home. Once again, the killer had switched up the MO, and Gus knew this was now personal. A phone call from Sampson on the way over told him his parents had indeed gotten a quote from Weston Builders and had also rejected it for being too expensive. It had been for a utility room adjoining the kitchen and had been completed the previous year. It was clear that, even if Weston himself couldn’t be involved in his mother’s abduction, it was linked in some way to his business.
Sampson had also shared one other interesting piece of information about the profile, and as soon as he’d finished with his father, he intended to follow that up.
His father’s bloodshot eyes, full of desperation, beseeched him, and Gus moved to his side, nodding briefly at his sister whose face betrayed her anguish. When he was sitting, his dad grasped his hand and held on as if it was the only thing anchoring him to real life. Maybe it was. His eyes, a darker blue than Gus and Corrine’s, pierced right through Gus, and a small smile flicked his lips for a mere second. His accent was more pronounced with fear. ‘Yer eyes are the exact same colour as yer mother’s, Angus. That same piercing blue that sees everything. She’s a wise woman, your mum … and a brave one, and yer her son. I know ye’ll bring her hame tae me.’
Gus’ heart clattered in his chest. He was sure the old man’s faith was misplaced, and the very thought of what could be happening to his mum right now was clouding his brain.
His dad continued to speak, his voice low and firm, ‘Ye’ve got tae find her, Angus. You ken you do. We cannae let those things happen to her … no’ to yer mum.’ He shook his head, and his gaze slid away, clearly trying to gain control. ‘She’s had too many bad things happen to her, and I swore when we married thirty odd years ago she’d never suffer again. Do you hear me, Angus? She’s no’ tae suffer.’
Gus swallowed hard and nodded. He could tell by the starkness in his father’s eyes he was remembering the post-mortems he’d done on the Tattoo Killer’s other victims. He tightened his grip on his dad’s hand and pulled it slightly until his dad met his eyes. ‘I’ll find her dad. I’ll bring her home. We’re all working on this.’
He waited until his dad nodded and then turned to Katie. Her face was streaked with mascara, and despite her tremulous lip, she smiled at him. He reached over with his other hand and squeezed her arm. ‘Make some fresh coffee and toast, sis. Dad and I need to go through what happened this morning, and we both need sustenance.’
As she busied herself in the kitchen, Gus, finding the domestic noises reassuring, asked his dad to tell him what had happened.
His dad’s big hand stroked Bingo’s head and two pairs of eyes; one brown and one piercing blue never left Fergus’ face as he spoke. ‘She went off with the dogs, like she always does at six o’ clock or so. She was so happy. She loves that time of the morning when it’s quiet. At around six forty-five, I heard them barking, so I knew she was nearly home. I popped the kettle on and set up the cafetiere. The thought she was taking a bit of a while to come in did cross my mind, but I assumed that this one,’ he moved his hand to Bingo’s head and pulled his ears, ‘had rolled in something again and needed hosing off.’
He gulped. ‘I should’ve bloody known. I should have gone oot tae see what she was up to. Next thing I know, I can hear Bingo outside there on the patio, barking and whining and scraping at the glass. I knew something was up straight away, so I opened the door, and he set off ‘round the front, so I followed.’ He glanced down at his old dogs and prodded them affectionately with his slippered toe. ‘These two lumbering oafs were standing like a pair of confused schoolboys, and yer mum was nowhere to be seen. Down the drive, I saw a car, metallic red, I think, turn as if heading up to Cottingley.’ His cleared his throat. ‘That’s when I saw the note, ‘I’ve got her. Serves you right!’’
Gus was surprised. The Tattoo Killer had never left a note before. Another change in MO. What the hell was going on? And his dad said he saw a car not a van. He supposed his dad could’ve been mistaken, but that was a
long shot. There wasn’t much traffic on that road so early in the morning.
He lifted a heavily buttered slice of toast that had appeared at his elbow and bit it. It tasted like cardboard in his mouth, still he knew he needed to eat, and that was about all he could manage. He was pleased to see his dad also take a slice. He slurped his coffee, nearly scalding his mouth in the process and, grabbing another slice of toast, stood up. ‘Right, I’m off. I’ll keep in touch.’
His dad stood and, knocking a protesting Bingo from his knee, said, ‘Okay, I’m ready.’
Gus glanced at Katie who’d just walked back into the kitchen carrying a pile of clothes and hoped his face didn’t betray the horror that was on her face. ‘Eh, Dad, you can’t come with me. I’ve got to do this on my own.’
Fergus’ face took on a steely look. ‘Och, nae chance, laddie. That’s ma wife we’re looking for. I’m coming wi’ ye.’
Gus dragged his fingers through his dreads and sighed. He knew exactly what his dad was like. There was no stopping him once he’d made up his mind. ‘Okay, but you do what I tell you, and you don’t interfere.’
His father, nodding his head, was already heading over to slip his shoes on. Gus exhaled and said to Katie, ‘Why don’t I believe him?’
Kate smiled, and handed the clothes to him. ‘You’re soaked, Gus. You need to change. I found these in your old room. Put them on.’ As Gus replaced his sodden clothes with dry ones, she continued in a quiet voice, ‘He needs to do something, Gus. I just wish I could join you too.’
Gus, knowing how hard it was to do nothing bar wait, hugged her. ‘You’ll be fine, Katie. Get Gabriella to come over. You shouldn’t be alone.’ This was the first time he’d been close to his sister since her betrayal the previous year. And at the moment, none of that seemed important. All that mattered was getting his mum back. He raised his voice and shouted to his dad, ‘I’ll meet you out front. I need to talk to Sid.’
Outside, Gus struggled into a coverall and took a minute to phone Compo to tell him to see if he could trace the metallic red car. He’d take his dad into The Fort in a bit and get him to look through images of vehicles; hopefully, that would keep his mind occupied. He joined Sid, who was bent over something in the drive. ‘Anything useful, Sid?’
Sid placed a gloved hand on Gus’ sleeve and squeezed. ‘A bit, not too much. Looks like he changed the vehicle.’ He pointed to a flattened dollop of muck. ‘This is a tyre tread, not big enough for a van. I’ll be able to match it later. The note’s been bagged, though I suspect our guy’s too bloody smart to have left anything on that. Nonetheless, we’ll go through it. One interesting thing is this. I found a small clump of horse shit just here.’ He pointed to an area a few feet from the tyre track. ‘Thought it was notable, what with the horsehair we found on Lewis Gore’s clothes. Looks like it fell off someone’s shoes. There’s a tread mark there too. Mind you, it could’ve come from your mum’s footwear. Do we know if she could have picked up horse poo on her walk?’
Gus shrugged. ‘Not likely, she went through the woods usually … on the other hand, it’s not impossible.’ He glanced around. ‘My gut tells me it’s from our boy. Any chance you can send a tech up to the fields at the Bay of Biscay and see if you can match the print?’ He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking embarrassed. ‘Mind you, I went up there this morning, and I know we sent some uniforms too. Fuck, I hope I’ve not obliterated anything useable.’
‘Look, Gus, I heard you’d just got a match on the horsehair with the horse up there, and that you checked out the site but it was clear. Between you and me, I’d have gone straight there, too, if that sick fucker had taken my mum. It was worth a shot, and you did right.’
Chapter 88
09:35 The Fort
‘You can’t be here, Gus. And you certainly can’t, Fergus,’ said DCI Chalmers, walking over in her stocking soles and encompassing first his dad and then Gus in a maternal hug. Despite one toe sticking through her tights, her blouse being creased, and her skirt looking like it had swivelled round her waist and was now on back to front, her eyes held a steely look, which immediately reassured Gus.
When she released him, he shook his head. ‘You know I’m not going anywhere ‘til my mum’s been found, Nance, so you might as well stop wasting time. As for the ‘Big Yin,’ well, you’re welcome to try. We both know you’ll fail though.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ll get him looking at vehicle colours and models. Keep him busy.’
For a second, he thought Nancy was going to object, then she gave a curt nod. ‘The more of us on this, the better. Let me catch you up with where we are here.’
Glancing around the room, Gus saw Compo was busy on his PC, and Sebastian Carlton was working on a tablet in the far corner of the room. Presumably, everyone else was out doing follow-ups. Being in The Fort made him feel claustrophobic. He wanted to be out knocking down doors and searching properties; however, he knew that until they had something concrete, it was a waste of time. He needed to focus. There were answers here. His team was good, and he had faith in their abilities. They’d never let him down before, and he hoped they wouldn’t this time. Not when the stakes were so high.
With determination, he brushed that thought aside and set his dad up with his task before moving over to Nancy who was sitting in his chair. He leaned his bum on the edge of his desk, folded his arms over chest and said, ‘Right, what have we got?’
She snorted. ‘Hmm, seems Propofol isn’t very well monitored. Vets use it for operating on horses, and because it’s not a controlled drug, it’s not as well monitored as it should be. Other access points could be nurses, anaesthetists and doctors performing surgery. It’s also becoming quite popular as a recreational drug. Compo’s checking that out. I told him to follow the vet thing first because of the whole horses’ link.’
Resting one leg over her knee, she pulled at her holey tights. ‘Sampson and Taffy, with a whole load of uniforms, are trying to locate Michael Hogg. With Graeme Weston in custody, he looks like our next best bet, and he has access to the horses. His wife seems to have disappeared too. They may be together, but they’re not at their home address, or Weston’s business address. Hogg took this week off work at short notice, and apparently, Albion First are arranging a rally in support of Graeme Weston in City Park later on today.’
Gus slammed his fist into the table. ‘Where the hell is he? Have they checked the party headquarters?’
Nancy nodded. ‘We’re on this, Gus. Alice is downstairs interviewing Graeme Weston, yet again, to see if he can give us any hints to Hogg’s whereabouts. Compo’s trying to track down any properties owned by the Westons, the Hoggs or Albion First. Uniforms have been despatched to each of the known Albion First Generals. We’ll find him, ok?’
Gus had no doubt they’d find him, he just wasn’t sure they’d find him in time. He glanced up as Sebastian Carlton approached. ‘What you got, Prof? Why’s he changed his MO?’
Carlton, glasses skew-whiff on his nose, said, ‘The killer is unravelling, Gus. Unfortunately, he’s nearing his endgame. The attempted abduction of Jez Hopkins last night was atypical. He doesn’t want to target white people. That was personal. I think it was a reaction, possibly to Hopkins’ article about Graeme Weston’s wife. Abducting your mum today was more in keeping with his previous targets. Although the change of sex worries me.’ He twiddled his glasses between his finger and thumb, frowning. ‘I feel I’m missing something … this is not an exact science, Gus.’
Ramming his glasses back on his nose, he continued. ‘He watched your mother, knew her habits and chose an appropriate time, albeit not at night, when he normally strikes. Why choose a woman?’ He shook his head. ‘Hopkins had clearly not been stalked, hence the text to entice him out to neutral territory. I think with your mum he either brought her abduction forward … or he has another reason. The note intrigues me, though. That makes it personal.’ He turned and looked straight at Gus. ‘I think he took your mum to get at you. Maybe because of t
he press conference. Maybe because you’re getting close.’
Gus had an almost overwhelming urge to punch the Professor. The things that were leaked to the press – if they had endangered his mother, he’d never forgive himself … and he’d bloody well find out who’d leaked it.
The Professor was still talking. ‘Yeah, the note was a bold yet silly move. It was a taunt pure and simple, and it was aimed at you, Gus. I would suspect it’s related to Weston’s arrest, and the perceived slight regarding our killer’s sexual orientation that was leaked. Compo told me your parents consulted Weston Builders for a building quote, so your mother was clearly in the killer’s sights before now … the note and the change in MO makes it personal. I’ve asked Alice to obtain permission from Weston to access his business records. I suspect he’ll refuse, so when Compo told me the business was in joint names, I contacted Mrs Weston and got permission from her. Maybe we could send some people over there to go over his records for the past year. At least we’d know who else may be on the killer’s target list.’
He peered at Gus over the top of his glasses. ‘There is something else that bothers me, but I need to see the note first.’
Chapter 89
09:50 The Fort
It had taken Alice every ounce of willpower she possessed to smile at Graeme Weston, but smile she did. She needed something from him, and she’d play by whatever rules it took to get the information. Time was running out for Gus’ mum, and they needed results fast.
‘So, Mr Weston. We’re looking for your campaign manager, Mr Michael Hogg. Have you any idea where he may be?’