With Deadly Intent

  Someone had been in her home.

  She felt tears prick at her eyes, and Ollie, who hadn’t moved from her side, cocked his head and whined. She smiled a sad smile at him, bending to stroke the fluffy fur behind his ears, and dropped to her knees, grabbing his scruffy neck and pulling him to her.

  ‘Am so glad you weren't here pup, what that man would've done to you I don't know but I'm glad he didn't get the chance. What are we going to do now?’

  Cass hadn't heard Alex approach and only turned when he spoke.

  ‘Now you and Ollie will come and stay at mine. At least until your door is fixed and you feel safer coming home. Or I stay here with you until your door is fixed and you feel safe here again.’

  ‘Those are my options? OK, maybe you could stay here? You live in a flat and Ollie needs his walks. I'll phone a joiner tomorrow. Thanks, Alex.’

  He walked over and held his hand out, ‘Come on, you threw the food out and I’ve binned the cold kebab, so we are going to go get takeout. Ollie too, I think he deserves something nice.’

  He took hold of Cass's hand, and led the way to the front door.

  As they drove out of the drive, neither noticed the shadowy figure hidden behind one of the trees.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  21st October, 1110 hours – Pallion, Sunderland

  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could continue with this charade.

  He’d been doing his best to avoid Scott, meticulously planning the way he would put the detestable youngster into the carefully prepared, makeshift coffin, and choosing his final resting place.

  But Scott wasn’t so keen on leaving him alone. He had been ringing and texting constantly, getting more and more aggressive about the money he had sneakily ‘demanded’. He could hear the desperation creeping in each time they spoke. The kid was actually scared about going to court, not that he’d ever admit it of course.

  ‘He’s no more getting that money than he’s going to see his next birthday,’ he muttered to himself.

  It just wouldn’t do. He wanted to wait three weeks, but with eleven days until that deadline, he was out of time. It needed to be done soon, or he risked Scott going to the police with his lies and then his window of opportunity would be lost.

  His face was grim, his fine jaw line sagging slightly as he struggled to keep his anger under wraps. He hated being rushed into things. But he also learned from his mistakes.

  Never again would he choose an unpredictable teenager as a victim – Scott had proved much too hard work and had become adept at backing him into a corner.

  He’d have to do the job sooner, despite his schedule now being all to pot and everything else off kilter.

  He pulled the curved hunting knife from the top shelf of the toolbox. Maybe he would use it on Scott. It wouldn’t end his life, but it would help him be compliant. After a couple of minutes though, he shook his head. He had much bigger plans for Scott.

  There would be just enough time to add Scott’s name and death date onto the top of the plywood coffin before leaving his unit for the day. It was early, yes, but he would be ready. The following Sunday would be ‘D-day.’

  He chuckled at his humour, D for death.

  His eyes glazed as he placed the knife back onto the shelf in the box. He loved that knife. It had cut through the flesh of many animals since he bought it years before. Without registering, he ran his thumb over the slight scar on his left hand, and for a moment the memory of the cat incident filled his mind.

  The cat was the fourth animal he had killed. The first was the old man’s dog, the second and third were the pet rabbits belonging to two permanently squabbling children who lived down the road. They had been no challenge at all, he barely remembered the knife sliding through their flesh, but the cat, now that was a different story.

  He had learnt very quickly that cats had claws, and they used them. In its panic, the ginger tabby had objected to being picked up off the street and carried to his shed in the garden. It had lashed out viciously, catching him off guard and causing a deep gouge in the soft padding on the outside of his thumb. He had responded by grabbing the cat round the neck, stifling its angry screeches. And then he took his time to make it pay for drawing his blood using the knife to cut the sharp claws from the cat’s paws. Whimpering the cat had tried to run, putting bloody paw prints all over his work bench, but it didn’t get very far, and before long the knife had removed the head from the body. It had been messy; taking him a good few hours to clean the surfaces down, and he still remembered the sting of the bleach in his cut. He buried the cat under the tree at the end of the garden and it was still there. Along with the bones of many more of his conquests.

  He smiled to himself again, before getting into his mother’s car and heading back over to the unit to finish Scott’s box.

  A shiver of anticipation rippled down his spine. Let Scott try his claws out and see what would happen.

  21st October, 1245 hours – Cass’s Cottage

  Cass and Alex had spent the morning shopping, and had just returned. A frown passed over her face as her hand hovered on the edge of the fridge door. She felt very comfortable in Alex's presence, more comfortable than she ever had in fact. Since Carl she had naturally been wary, but even before him she had not been intimate with many men. As great as things were just now, it seemed to be happening very fast and she found that scary. She shook her head.

  Some people are never happy. Besides I've got to move on from Carl at some point. Why shouldn't it be with Alex?

  She turned to fill the kettle at the sink, and paused as something caught her eye in the garden. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was but something looked out of place. She unlocked the newly installed back door, courtesy of the joinery firm used by the police who had attended first thing that morning and went outside.

  It was overcast and threatening to rain, giving a greyish hue to the greenery. Cass glanced around, unsure what she was looking for. Then her eyes picked up something small next to the rear gate. She went to investigate, senses on high alert and couldn't stop her hands flying to her chest as she realised what it was.

  A mutilated dog carcass lay there. It wasn’t a dog she recognised, but she could tell from the wounds the animal had been tortured. She spotted a piece of paper partially obscured by one paw and bent slowly to pick it up. Her eyes widened as the scrawled message travelled the synapses to her brain. The paper fluttered to the floor as she turned and ran inside.

  ‘Ollie, where are you?’ She yelled as she entered the kitchen.

  She pushed open the door to the hall and ran smack into Alex.

  He grabbed her arms, ‘What's wrong, Cass?’

  ‘Outside,’ she stammered, eyes wild in fear. ‘Where's Ollie? I need to find Ollie.’

  Hearing his soft paws pad on the tiles in the hall, she dropped to her knees and pulled the dog close.

  ‘He's OK, he's safe. Now tell me what's outside, Cass?’ said Alex, as he helped Cass back to her feet.

  ‘A dead dog. It's by the back gate. There was a note saying Ollie was next. God Alex, what the hell is going on? Do you think this could be Carl? Has he found me?’

  ‘Even if it is, he will not hurt you or Ollie, I give you my word, Cass. Go pack a bag, you're both coming with me. I'll not have any arguments. I'll call one of my team to come and clear up the dog and we'll have uniform do drive-bys here. Whoever this is, it's personal. We will find them.’

  Alex pulled her into a quick, tight hug, then released her, giving her a gentle push towards the stairs. ‘Go pack your bag, I'll get Ollie's stuff sorted.’

  Leaving Ollie in the kitchen, he made his way to the back of the garden to have a look. He felt bile rise in his throat as the dog came into view. If there was one thing he was a sucker for, it was animals. Bending to pick up the note, by the edge to preserve potential fingerprints, he placed it into a plastic bag he had grabbed from the drawer on his way past. He used stones to secure a bin bag over the c
arcass, and made his way back to the house. In his mind he was already sifting through the evidence. Whoever had killed the dog was disorganised, and sloppy. It was a message aimed at Cass and he frowned deeply as he registered the implications. It was too much of a coincidence that Jameson had been released a couple of days earlier. He knew in his gut it was him, and though he was trained not to rely solely on his gut, this time it was too strong to ignore. Pulling up the number he had painstakingly added when Cass had told him about Jameson, he dialled the probation office.

  ‘DCI Alex McKay. I need to speak with Patrick Kelly as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘DCI McKay, this is Patrick. How can I help?’

  ‘You have a man called Carl Jameson on your books, correct?’

  ‘I’ll need to ring your station to confirm you’re an officer before I can disclose any information DCI McKay, which force do you work for?’

  ‘North East Police. If you ring the control room, they’ll put you through to my mobile.’

  A couple of minutes later, Alex answered the call with a quick hello.

  ‘Apologies DCI McKay, you understand why though, I’m sure. Yes, Jameson is managed by me. But he failed to attend his scheduled appointment this morning. You should also be aware that my office was broken into in the early hours of the 20th, the offender is believed to be Jameson. The only thing he took was his file, which contained contact information for the witness in the assault case against him, Cassandra Hunt. Do you know her?’

  ‘Yes, I know her. Has she been made aware of this?’ Alex kept his tone purposely neutral. Kelly should have reported the incident to the local police, who should have also made Cass aware for her own safety, and he knew that hadn’t happened.

  ‘I don’t believe she has as yet, I was going to ring her this afternoon. I’ve was waiting for the forensics team to finish with the office, then it became too late to ring last night.’

  ‘I’ll inform her. Thanks for your time, Mr Kelly.’

  When he finished with Kelly, he phoned Charlie and asked her to meet them at his place in an hour. There was definitely too much coincidence for his liking and the more resources he used the better. He was banking on Jameson not knowing where he lived or there was no way he'd be taking Cass there.

  As an afterthought he decided to put in a quick call to Ali. At the time of Cass's call, which now seemed like an eternity ago, he’d been with his brother. He knew Ali would be worried. He sighed as the call connected; Ali was going to be pissed.

  ‘McKay,’ his brother answered.

  ‘Hey, bro. It's me,’ he paused, waiting for the chewing to begin.

  It never came.

  ‘Hey, Alex. Gonna have to call you back. In the middle of something. Ring you later.’

  It sounded as though Ali was driving, so Alex said his goodbyes and hung up.

  By the time he got back into the house, Cass was in the kitchen, with her bag and a carrier filled with Ollie's food and toys. She looked scared, and he acknowledged that he was too, though his fear was more for Cass than himself. All he wanted to do was get her away, put her somewhere safe and catch the bastard that had hurt her. But he knew she wouldn't let him. With fear shining in her eyes, there was an underlying look of determination. She wouldn't let Jameson break her again.

  Within half an hour he was pulling the Audi into his private parking space outside the small block of flats.

  Grabbing the bags, he said, ‘There's a park over the road. We can walk Ollie there. I don't want you going alone though, OK?’

  At her nod, he took her hand in his and led her inside.

  Cass glanced around. Not that there was a whole lot to see. Sparse walls showed whatever pictures had been up when he moved in, and the furniture was functional. The only part of the living room that made it appear homely was the collection of family photos on the mantle. Slowly she studied them. At the centre was a large photo of an older man, with slightly greying hair but with similar features to Alex. He was in full police blues, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were clear evidence of a happy man who smiled a lot. Despite pride of place on the mantle, she realised Alex had never mentioned him.

  ‘Your dad?’ She asked, glancing over at him.

  He nodded slowly, placed her bags on the floor and walked over.

  ‘Yeah that's Dad. He died sixteen years ago. In the line of duty.’

  ‘Sorry, Alex,’ said Cass, placing her arm on his.

  ‘It's OK. Wasn't easy, Mum was devastated and everyone except Ali and me were so young. Mum lost her way a little, she's OK now but it was a tough time. He was her whole world, and she was his.’

  ‘Understandable. I didn't know my real dad, he left mum when I was born. We never saw him again. I never needed him so didn’t bother looking. Then mum met Roger and he became a father figure. He’s great and she loves him to bits.’ Cass’s tone was matter of fact, but her eyes filled with love talking about her family. She was so close to them.

  She looked up at Alex, and saw his eyes burning with a sudden rush of desire. He bent and captured her mouth with his, turning her round and pulling her into his chest. Forgetting for the moment, they kissed hungrily.

  A sudden knock at the door caused them to pull apart like naughty teenagers caught behind the bike sheds. Alex gazed at her for a moment, then placed a gentle kiss on her reddened lips.

  ‘We'll pick this up later,’ he promised, giving her a smouldering look before turning to answer the door.

  ‘Hey Charlie, that was quick, I.......’ He started as he tugged the door inwards. His sentence tailed off as he realised it wasn't Charlie.

  ‘Hey, bro. You gonna invite me in or stand there gawping at me all day?’ Ali’s voice held a hint of humour as he raised his eyebrows at Alex.

  Alex moved to one side, then grabbed Ali and hugged him hard. ‘What're you doing here, bro? I thought you were tied up?’

  ‘I was. Tied up driving here,’ he smirked back. ‘You left like a bat out of hell, scared Mum half to death and I was given strict orders to come make sure you and Cass were OK. Mum really wants to meet the girl who has stolen your heart, bro.’

  Alex felt his cheeks redden as he stepped aside. His family's mouths were way too big at times.

  Cass was already smiling as Ali walked in.

  Glancing at Alex and smirking again, Ali crossed the small room in three steps and enveloped Cass in an unexpected bear hug. Surprising herself, she hugged back.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. Alex talks a lot about you, about all of you.’

  ‘Back at you. He said you were beautiful, but he didn't mention how beautiful. It's a good job he's staked his claim or I'd be in line,’ he grinned, liking her already. The wide grin she shot back made the banter worthwhile.

  ‘So does a guy have to die of thirst here before he's offered basic hospitality? I'd kill for a cup of tea.’

  Alex turned towards the kitchen shaking his head, still somewhat bewildered. As he put the kettle on, he heard the front door go again. I really need more furniture if people are going to keep coming round!

  Chapter Twenty Three

  22nd October, 0705 hours – Cass’s Cottage

  He stood in the woods to the front of the cottage.

  It was cold, and the darkness was spread all round him like a blanket, the moon and stars acting like a reading lamp illuminating the picture page of a book.

  He was wrapped up warm though, and barely noticed as his breath turned to icy mist in front of him.

  He frowned.

  Her car hadn't moved. She could still be inside since he checked last night, but nothing else had moved either. The lights were still off, there was no sign of life from inside, and for a moment he wondered if she had gone away or something. His concern turned to annoyance as he realised she was probably with him at his flat in the town.

  As he watched, he saw a slight movement to the west. He focused in, giving his eyes a few seconds to adjust, and saw the shadowy figure of a man.
<
br />   ‘Now what have we here?’ he whispered, watching intently.

  The figure approached the front door, and tried the handle silently. When this failed to yield, he walked to the rear.

  Not wanting to give his location away, but needing to see what was going on, he followed, virtually silent footsteps not disturbing the morning peace.

  He stayed within the tree line.

  And he watched.

  He saw the figure try the back door, and use his shoulder to try and force it open. He heard him grunt in surprise as the door held fast. It was as if the figure had been in before and expected the door lock to be weaker than it was.

  Suddenly a deer jumped from the trees to the south, startling both him and the shadowy form. They both froze, staring at the deer momentarily.

  He heard the man curse under his breath, and saw him pull something from his pocket. He heard metal on metal and envisioned him putting the key in the lock and turning it.

  Now his anger rose.

  Whoever this was, he was after his prize. He had made the decision the day before that when he was finished with Scott he would focus on her; there was no way someone else was going to beat him to the punch.

  He pulled back into the trees, melting into the darkness and made his way to his car. Time to check the sex slave’s address, and then time for work.

  Later he would find out who was trying to get at her.

  And he would deal with it.

  22nd October, 0745 hours – Alex’s Flat

  The journey hadn’t taken long and now he sat in his car outside Alex's flat, watching for anything that would indicate to him that Cass was there.

  He was confused, which was not an emotion he felt often. He couldn't fathom why he couldn't get her out of his head. It was almost like an obsession, but why was he obsessed with her?

  He shook his head in the hope of dispelling the confusion and led his thoughts elsewhere. He had finished Scott's coffin last night. The cheap plywood box now had his real name and death date etched on the outside. Craftily, he had also embedded the small triangle of metal in a heated swirl below Scott's name. It looked different; out of place. There was no way the dimwit officers could miss it this time, but they would never find out what the triangle meant. After all, if he didn’t know, how could they? He smirked as he ran his hand over the top of the triangle. Nice, smooth and set properly into the wood, he knew he’d done a good job.