by Liz Mistry
Chapter 94
12:45 The Fort
‘You’re not doing it, Gus, and that’s final. He’s already mouthing off about police brutality and that’s not going to help your mother, is it? We need him talking. You know that.’
Fergus patted his son’s arm. ‘You know she’s right, Angus. Much as I want to smash the little scunnering bawbag into oblivion, we need to find your mum first.’
Shocked speechless by his dad’s uncharacteristic swearing, Gus nodded. ‘Okay, okay. But I’m watching the interview, and so’s he.’ He jerked his thumb in his dad’s direction before saying, ‘Come on, Da, this way.’ He heard Nancy’s loud sigh of relief as he left the room and smiled. She was probably relieved he’d given in so easily.
Alice sat opposite Michael Hogg in the interview room. Gus had cuffed him for resisting arrest, and if his face was anything to go by, he’d put up quite a resistance. Although he’d wanted to wallop him, Alice’s arm on his shoulder had stopped him from slamming his raised fist into the man’s face. All the damage had been done when Gus wrestled him to the ground. Unfortunately, his face had scraped along the tarmac as he fell. Gus felt no remorse and, in fact, was glad to have hurt him. When his dad had thundered up seconds later, Gus had stood in front of him as Taffy and Sampson escorted Hogg to their waiting car. Hogg had been cleared fit for interview by the police doctor, and his lawyer had turned up surprisingly quickly. Gus reckoned he’d been on standby, on account of the rally.
Alice went in gently to begin with, establishing his name and address and then introducing evidence after evidence. By the time she’d covered the horsehair and the building quotes and their link to all the victims, Hogg’s confident expression had been replaced by look of anxiety. He’d pulled his tie loose and kept wiping his brow with a handkerchief. His lawyer demanded consultation time with his client.
Alice left the room and joined them in the investigation room.
‘You need to offer him a deal, Al. Tell him we’ll ask for a reduced sentence in a low security wing, if he co-operates. We need him to tell us where my mum is. The evidence is all circumstantial. We don’t have DNA. The most we can hope for is him seeing sense. You have got to appeal to his better nature.’ As he said it, Gus knew it was futile. What better nature did he suppose Michael Hogg had? He’d no sooner share information with the police than with Nelson Mandela.
Alice, however, agreed they should try, and they continued to work on their strategy. Then, Professor Carlton rushed in, panting slightly, luminous yellow trainers flashing as he moved. ‘Don’t you answer my calls any more, Gus?’
‘Eh?’ Gus pulled his phone from his pocket and realised he’d turned it off. ‘Sorry, turned it off. What’s up?’
Carlton caught his breath and said, ‘I wondered earlier on. All that reacting to the article against Weston and then Weston’s arrest got me thinking. After, when I saw the handwritten note, I was nearly sure, so I took it to my friend at the university. Had to hunt her down because she’d turned off her phone too. Anyway, I was right.’
Gus, impatient and feeling no desire to play Carlton’s games, said, ‘Spit it out then.’
‘It’s a woman.’
Gus frowned. ‘What is?’
Carlton spread his hands out before him. ‘The Tattoo Killer is a woman. One who wants to protect Graeme Weston, I’d say.’
Gus closed his mouth and spun away, raking his fingers through his dreads. A woman? Not Michael Hogg, despite the fact all the circumstantial evidence fit Hogg. He closed his eyes and went through everything they had: horsehair, building quotes, shadowy figure in baggy clothes, access to the kill site.
Shit, which one of them is it? Just then, Michael Hogg’s lawyer came through the door. ‘Your sergeant asked for a list of buildings owned by Weston’s Builders, and my client has supplied this list. Now, can we re-commence this interview?’
Gus read the list and then, heading out the door, said, ‘No, we’re holding him for obstructing arrest. Take him back to the cells, Sampson. Come on, Dad, let’s go get Mum.’
Chapter 95
13:30 The New Kill Site
Anger ripples through my body. I can feel it in the tension across my shoulders. What were they playing at, arresting Michael? Imagine that nigger laying hands on Michael like that. Wrestling him to the ground, like he was some sort of animal … it was abhorrent. How dare he? Well, he’ll be sorry now. His actions have just made it a hundred percent worse for his mum. First, he targets Graeme, now Michael. No way will I go easy on her now. No, she is going to suffer, and I am going to enjoy every minute of it.
I park up and get out. Faint wafts of smoke float in the air as I survey my surroundings. It’s as quiet as it was this morning when I dropped her off. I usually park around the corner if I want to avoid being spotted; today though, there’s no need. No-one will think it’s suspicious. No-one is around. Humming to myself, I approach the garage. The rally was called off after Michael’s arrest. The Generals tried to say a few words, but the Pakis had turned up, and they outnumbered us. It all fell to pieces. What do you expect, without Graeme and Michael to hold things together?
I roll the door up and walk inside, flipping it shut behind me. I switch on the light. Time to get everything ready. A quick glance tells me she is still unconscious, although her breathing is steady. I busy myself getting the ink and the wipes and the tattoo machine together. I pull the workbench over beside her and place my things on it, and then, she opens her eyes.
For a second, I am startled, and then, I smile at her … the fun is about to begin.
Chapter 96
13:30 Cray Farm, Bailden
Alice tagged along with them. Gus was sure Taffy, Nancy, Sampson and a squad of other officers were on their way too. One glance at the list told him the only building they hadn’t checked was one belonging to Michael Hogg’s parents. It had been transferred to Weston Builders recently. That was where his mum was. He was sure of it.
Screeching to a halt in front of the converted farmhouse, Gus rushed out followed by his dad and Alice. In the distance, police sirens approached. Gus reached the front door seconds before his dad, and, with a shared glance, they braced themselves and threw their combined weight at the door. It burst open, sending them flying inside. Gus started shouting, ‘Mum! Mum!’
Whilst his dad’s deeper voice yelled, ‘Corrine! Corrine! We’re coming, my darling.’
Gus ran through the house like a marauding Viking, crashing doors open, scanning the room and then moving onto the next. All rooms in the house exhausted, he headed back out to repeat the process on the out-buildings.
Alice’s phone rang at exactly the same moment the police cars skidded into the yard. She answered it, and Gus saw her face pale.
‘Shit,’ she said and ran back to the car. ‘We got the wrong place. She’s at the Weston’s.’
Chapter 97
13:45 Hawthorn Drive, Eccleshill
Two things happened within minutes of each other. The first was that Corrine McGuire brought her hands forward and grabbed her captor’s head. The second was that, using her grip as impetus, she pulled herself and the trolley up, crashing her head onto the woman’s face. A Glasgow kiss with a difference! When she heard the crunch of the killer’s nose breaking, her spirits lifted. Warm blood spurting onto her face served only to give her a primal feeling that pumped adrenaline through her aching body. Still holding the woman, she brought her head back, and then with equal strength, pummelled it again onto the woman’s broken cartilage.
Her screams gave Corrine more energy. She’d had enough pain, and this woman was the cause of it. Corrine McGuire was going to end it there and then. Moving her grip to the woman’s hair, she yanked her head back and spun her around, making her yelp. Corrine transferred her grip until she had her forearm round the woman’s throat. Using her other hand as counter balance, she exerted more and more pressure –
A ball of fire thrust into Corrine’s stomach. A phew of air ricoch
eted from her lips, and her arms loosened their grip, as her assailant rammed her elbows once more into Corrine’s tender flesh. Her attacker stumbled out of her reach. Her eyes, feral with hate, shone from her bloody face. Panting, she stood like a gorilla, knees slack, fists almost skimming the floor. Corrine, gasping raw breaths, glanced around. Her eyes flicking over all the possible weapons that were just out of reach.
Her teeth flashing through her mucus-covered face, the other woman snarled and took a step closer. She lifted her hand and picked up a crowbar from the workbench nearby.
Corrine knew she had to do something, so she began to wobble the trolley. Could she wobble it over until she was underneath it? Maybe the metal struts would provide her with some protection. She could hear the other woman’s rasping breath and knew she’d elevated her arm ready to strike. Corrinne leaned her body as far as she could in a last-ditch attempt to move the trolley. Then, in her peripheral vision, she saw a flash of movement, and a waft of air touched her skin as the crowbar descended. Bracing herself, she closed her eyes and waited.
The loud sound of metal landing on concrete followed by a thump made her judder. She waited for the accompanying pain, but it didn’t come. Instead, she heard a low whimper and a louder groan. Her eyes flew open, and she saw a woman with her hands covering her cheeks standing next to her, staring at a crumpled heap on the floor.
Taking a steadying breath, Corrine said, ‘Thank God,’ and fell back against the trolley at the same moment as the garage door shuddered upwards, and she could see her beloved husband and son dashing through. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen in her life. And as they approached, great heaving sobs wracked her body.
Chapter 98
18:00 The Fort
Gus couldn’t believe how resilient his mother had been in the aftermath of the rescue. He’d wrapped his coat round her naked body. Alice had cut the cable ties off her legs, and his father had lifted her up and carried her out to the waiting ambulance. She’d clearly been exhausted, and her body was bruised all over. Angry welts covered her wrists and ankles, and she’d lacerated her hands in her attempts to cut through the cable ties. She’d sustained a concussion and two broken ribs, but had no side effects from being drugged.
Gus had left her in the capable hands of his sister, his father, and his ex-wife Gabriella, who were fussing about her at home. She’d insisted on giving her statement at the hospital, and Alice had taken it, whilst Gus and his father listened.
When he’d heard his mum was being held at the Weston house, he’d wondered if he’d misread Christine Weston. Right up until the point when he’d hurled open the garage door and found his mum tied to the trolley with Christine Weston, staring wide-eyed at the woman she’d just hit with a hammer, he’d been unsure.
Turned out, Christine had returned home to see what damage had been done by the fire and to collect some clothes for herself and Jacob. When she’d pulled up outside, she’d seen Marcia’s car in the drive. Assuming the other woman had come to collect something for her husband, Christine had entered the house. When she couldn’t find Marcia anywhere in the house, she was puzzled and had come back downstairs, which was when she heard sounds coming from the garage. She’d edged towards the door and listened. When she’d heard some of the things Marcia was saying, she’d moved into the living room and phoned the station.
Compo had immediately phoned Alice. Meanwhile, Christine had returned to listen in to what was happening in the garage whilst she waited for the police. When she heard the screaming, she couldn’t stay outside any longer, and had opened the garage door and grabbed a hammer to help Corrine.
Having been cleaned up, Marcia Hogg was waxing lyrical about how she’d done it all to further Graeme Weston’s political career. How Graeme Weston was the love of her life, and now that Christine had exposed herself as the trollop she was, he’d stand by her. She was clearly unhinged, and would no doubt spend the rest of her days in a psychiatric hospital.
April 2017
Epilogue
Lister Park
The Boating Pavilion had just opened for the summer season, and the boats were being well-used. It was the Easter holidays, and a gentle sunshine gave the promise of spring’s end and summer’s beginning. Alice had convinced Gus she wanted an ice cream, so he sat on one of the café’s outdoor tables with Bingo on a lead by his feet.
Whilst Bingo snoozed in the sunlight, Gus flicked open a copy of the Bradford Chronicle he’d found discarded on the next table. A slow smile formed on his face, as he read the article, ‘After a devastating defeat in the recent Bradford Central by-election, Graeme Weston, Albion First’s candidate, has declared he will be withdrawing as the ‘face’ of the right-wing party. Insider sources reveal both he and his campaign manager Michael Hogg were forced to resign after the Tattoo Killer who terrorised Bradford’s Asian and black communities for weeks earlier this year was identified as Marcia Hogg, Weston’s PA. Further scandal plagued the failed politician with his wife’s accusations of abuse and his subsequent divorce. Weston has declined to comment, but Abbas Butt, the newly elected MP for Bradford Central said, ‘The resounding defeat of Graeme Weston and his racist hate-filled politics is a triumph for the people of Bradford. Bradford says a firm NO to Racism!’’
Well, Graeme Weston may not be out, but he most certainly was down. This thought gave Gus much pleasure.
Using the tip of his trainer to scratch Bingo, Gus smiled as the dog rolled over revealing a fluffy expanse of belly. ‘See, Bingo, sometimes, truth will out and justice prevails.’ His grin deepened when the dog gave as small woof.
‘You’ll get arrested talking to yourself like that,’ said Alice, returning with two large ninety-nine cones and a small one which she laid on top of a napkin on the floor for Bingo. She handed Gus his ice cream, and the two of them sat in companionable silence until Alice kicked him under the table and nodded to the boating pond.
Frowning, Gus glared at her, and then, when he saw the four people in one of the pedalos circling the small island in the centre of the pond, his expression softened. Christine Weston sat next to Neha Ul Haq at the back, and at the front, Shamshad and Jacob were guiding the boat over the water. Even from this distance, Gus could see Neha had gained a little weight, and all four of them seemed happy. For now, life seemed good. Sandra Gore had left a message to tell him just last week she and Lewis were the proud parents of a baby boy. Monica had been right about that, then! The thought made him smile. Gore might need more time to fully recover, but his son would surely help him over the worst of his troubles.
Hearing someone shout his name, Gus looked up and was immediately surrounded by a flurry of excited girls’ chatter as Mo’s two youngest clambered onto his knee whilst the older two grabbed Bingo’s lead to take him for a walk. Mo and Naila heaved a sigh of relief and sat down in the two vacant seats. ‘Only ten more days until school’s back,’ said Mo, his smiling face belying his words.
Gus absorbed in tales of duck feeding, climbing frames, swings and somersaults dug in his pocket and handed Mo some money. ‘Stop your damn moaning, Mo. Go get my girls some ice creams, please.’
THE END
Have you read the other books in the DI Gus McGuire series?
Unquiet Souls
Amazon UK – Amazon US
Uncoiled Lies
Amazon UK – Amazon US
A Note from Bloodhound Books:
Thanks for reading Untainted Blood. We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads to help others find and enjoy this book too.
We make every effort to ensure that books are carefully edited and proofread, however occasionally mistakes do slip through. If you spot something, please do send details to [email protected] and we can amend it.
Bloodhound Books specialise in crime and thriller fiction. We regularly have special offers including free and discounted eBooks. To be the first to hear about these special offers, why not joi
n our mailing list here? We won’t send you more than two emails per month and we’ll never pass your details on to anybody else.
Acknowledgements
As ever my awesome family have been behind me all the way. I couldn’t do this without their support, encouragement and unfaltering belief in me. My publishers Bloodhound Books (and their amazing staff) and the awesome Bloodhound pups are a constant source of knowledge, encouragement and laughter. Thanks, guys! My editor, Clare Law, is amazing and keeps her eye on the ball. Thanks Clare.
The Leeds Trinity University Writer’s Group keep me sane as does the infamous Barny Bunch! My friend, Toria Forsyth Moser, has played a huge role in getting Untainted Blood up to scratch. She is indefatigable and a fantastic friend. Thanks, Toria, I couldn’t have done it without you.
For her expert knowledge, regarding the care of horses, I would like to thank Laura Boardman Slack; and for his suggestion of Albion First as my far-right political party’s name, I would like to thank my old (very old) schoolfriend Gordon Gillies. For medical advice and general all-round support, thanks go to Dr Shirley Brierley and Dr Keir Shiels. For information on tattoos, and indeed for my own gorgeous tattoo, thanks go to Nic Bocarro at Violet’s Tattoo Studio, Hebden Bridge. Two of my characters were borrowed from Emily Gilpin and Lewis Gore, who won the raffle in aid of Restless Development charity to donate their names for my nefarious use. Thanks so much for that! For the Heaton Woods pictures, my thanks go to Gillian Boardman and Neil Slack who took far better images than I ever could.