Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender

by Netta Newbound

  When she arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes later, he was already in surgery having an angioplasty, the procedure to insert a balloon into the blocked arteries before inserting a stent.

  Within days he was back to his normal obnoxious self, demanding she suck his flaccid dick while he watched his disgusting, barely legal porn.

  It was then she and David decided to pool whatever money they had, and add to it in any way possible before leaving together. They planned to put as much distance between them and Ross as they could, go somewhere he’d never find them.

  One of her childhood friends had met and married a man in New Zealand. She told Lailani all about the place and how cheap it was to buy a decent house with land out there. She had the best part of thirty thousand quid. David said he could match it, at a push, but that wouldn’t get them very far. He came up with a foolproof way to make thousands quickly.

  David had been sourcing and arranging to set up a new office in Edinburgh, and the costings showed it would take approximately eight hundred thousand pounds.

  Since his father’s heart attack, David had taken on more responsibilities with the running of the company, and knew he would be left to hire the contractors and purchase the plant himself. If he were to fabricate company letterheads and a few fake invoices, they would be put onto Ross’ desk to make the payments. No-one would look close enough to see the bank accounts to be paid were all the same—David’s.

  He’d already brought sixty grand home to add to their stash under the bath. It would be a matter of weeks before Lailani would be able to get out of her sham of a non-marriage, get out of London, and get out of England for good.

  Chapter 34

  I pulled the car to a stop outside Sandra’s house, surprised to see the whole ground floor lit up like Piccadilly Circus. I’d considered calling as I left the station, but it was almost four-thirty in the morning. Although I’d promised Amanda I’d come back, I suspected they’d be tucked up in their beds by now. But I needn’t have worried.

  I peered in the lounge room window and tapped lightly with my car key. Moments later, Sandra appeared and opened the front door.

  “Hey, Sandra. Sorry about the late hour,” I said, stepping into the small hallway. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

  “I think we must’ve lost track of the time.” She rolled up her sleeve and glanced at her watch, then gasped. She stepped backwards and pushed open the lounge door with her bottom. “Amanda’s in the kitchen making a pot of tea.”

  Amanda stopped what she was doing and braced herself as I entered the homely but dated, beige and brown-tiled kitchen.

  “Nothing, sorry. But we have his mug shot plastered everywhere, and the airport and docks are on high alert. He won’t get far.” I pulled her into my arms and felt helpless as her distraught face crumpled, and she began to sob.

  I held her close while she cried, stroking her hair. I’d forgotten all about Sandra until she wiped away her own tears. I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  Sandra sighed and closed her worried eyes for a moment, before shaking her head and shrugging. “Right! I’ll finish the tea, shall I? How do you take it, Adam?”

  Chapter 35

  A scraping noise coming from the street outside had Andrew on his feet for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. He watched through a chink in the curtains as the old Polish woman from next door dragged her iron gate closed behind her. She shuffled up the street pulling a shopping bag on wheels.

  Mary had eventually fallen asleep, although her rest was fitful and unsettled.

  He wondered if he’d made a huge mistake after all. He hadn’t thought it through properly. He knew that now. Years ago, when he first fled to France with Mary as a small child, she didn’t question a thing. Why would she? In his mind, he thought it would be the same this time. He hadn’t taken into account the complications that came with trying to kidnap a very vocal young woman, even if she was his own daughter.

  He honestly thought she’d be pleased to see him, and she had been for the first ten minutes or so. But since then, he kept catching the suspicious glances she shot his way.

  He could do without all the questions, too. Perhaps he should have left Mary where she was—the ungrateful bitch!

  Chapter 36

  Lailani, sitting cross-legged on the bathroom floor, counted the last of the twenty-pound notes and sighed. They had just forty quid short of a hundred thousand pounds.

  She knew they could get out now and still make a good go of it with what they had already pilfered, and the money David had in his savings account. Greed made them stay. He assured her that one more week would make all the difference.

  A sound coming from downstairs made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

  “Hello?” she called, before leaping to her feet, stashing the last of the money inside the bath cavity and slamming the wooden panel back in place.

  Ross appeared behind her in the doorway. “Gotcha!” he said.

  It took all of her energy to remain straight-faced and not let on how frightened she was.

  “What a nice surprise!” She whirled around and kissed him on the cheek. “What are you doing home, my love?”

  He always left for the office at 6.45am, as he woke as soon as the sun was up. Since his heart attack, he still went in early, wanting his presence felt, even though he did very little work nowadays. He usually returned home for his lunch at around 2pm.

  “I live here.” He laughed.

  Relieved he was in a good mood, she playfully batted him. “You know what I mean, cheeky. It’s just gone 9am.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “I had a meeting in the area and just thought I’d pop by to see what, or who, my favourite girl’s doing.”

  “Ross, stop it. You know I hate it when you say things like that.” She pushed against his rotund stomach and managed to shrug out of his arms.

  Heading for the stairs, she called over her shoulder, “Can I make you some breakfast before I go?”

  “Go? Go where? I thought we could spend a little quality time together, seeing as you took so long to come to bed last night.” He caught up to her in the kitchen and grabbed her breast.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She chuckled. It was getting harder and harder to escape, or, on the odd occasion, have to endure his advances. His unique stench made her stomach lurch, and she almost chucked up the toast she’d had for breakfast. “I have a doctor’s appointment, my love.”

  His bushy, grey eyebrows knitted together over the top of his bulbous, red, open-pored nose. “What for this time?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Women’s problems.” She patted at her stomach and shrugged.

  He shoved her away nastily. “I don’t know why I fucking bother. Most men would just shag their secretary, but not me. All I can think about is you—my wife!”

  “We’re not married, Ross.”

  “We not mawwied, Woss,” he mimicked her, knowing how much she hated him taking the piss out of her accent.

  She scowled and turned away.

  “We’re as good as married. We don’t need a piece of fucking paper after all these years, do we?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do we?” his voice boomed.

  “No. We don’t need a piece of paper, my love.”

  She walked through to the lounge and perched on the edge of the armchair while she pulled her loafers onto her feet. “I could make you a drink before I leave, if you like?”

  “I don’t want one.” He fell heavily onto the sofa.

  When she left, he was lying back in his favourite position. She had no doubt he’d be masturbating by the time she’d got through the front door. She shuddered at the thought.

  Before she reached the top of the street, her phone rang. She pulled over to the side of the curb and answered it.

  Chapter 37

  Grayson was in the shower scrubbing his sweaty body af
ter a full on session in the gym. His regular routine almost killed him as he’d been slack lately, but his pinching waistband shamed him into a workout before going into the office.

  The twins had been wonderful for the past few nights, and he felt great after catching up on his own sleep.

  As he stepped from the shower cubicle, he heard his phone ringing. He wrapped the towel round his waist and reached into the locker for it.

  Moments later, hurriedly dressed, and his belongings shoved into his sports bag, he raced from the building.

  ***

  Lailani drove to the Pinevale Cinema Complex and grabbed her handbag. She approached a tall, well-built man dressed in a white shirt and grey slacks. She noticed his hair was wet.

  The man turned to face her. “Pop goes the weasel,” he said.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out a handgun, which she pointed at his chest, and then she pulled the trigger.

  A sound to the side of her caused her to move slightly, and the first bullet hit the man’s shoulder.

  A woman appeared from nowhere and body-slammed Lailani into the cinema window. The gun fired for the second time, and Lailani suddenly felt a fierce burning sensation in the centre of her stomach.

  The last thing she heard was the squeak of her face on the glass as she slid to the ground.

  Chapter 38

  The ringing cell phone penetrated my dreams. I forced one eye open and groaned, my neck protested painfully as I straightened myself up from the armchair in which I’d spent the last few hours.

  Amanda stirred from her position on the sofa. I scrabbled in my pocket for the phone and cancelled the call, not wanting to disturb her.

  Glancing at my watch, I shot bolt upright. It was 10.10am. I slid on my shoes and crumpled jacket and, after kissing Amanda softly on her head, raced from the room.

  The house was silent, but I found Sandra standing at her car pulling shopping bags from the boot.

  “Morning, sleepyhead. I was about to make you some coffee,” she said.

  “I wish you’d woken me, Sandra. I can’t believe I slept so late.”

  “I thought you must have heard the commotion the children made this morning. They were as boisterous as ever. I’ve just dropped them off at school.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked.

  Sandra’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “I never thought ... You don’t think ...?”

  “No, I don’t think he will, but Amanda might fret.”

  “She needs some rest. There’s nothing she can do about Mary, and in her condition ...”

  “What condition?” I asked, confused.

  Sandra walked past me towards the front door. “I’d best get this little lot inside. It’s years since I had a house full to look after.”

  “Sandra,” I said, sternly.

  She stopped and glanced at me.

  “What did you mean—her condition?”

  “Oh, you know—with her mental health. If she gets worked up, she could end up in hospital again.”

  I lifted my chin in acknowledgment, but continued eyeing her warily. Something about her demeanour, and the shifty way she avoided my gaze, told me she was lying. Or was it just the cop in me suspecting everyone?

  “I’ll let you know if I get any news,” I said.

  “Please do.”

  In the car, I dialled through to voicemail. Frances’ voice came over the loud speaker.

  “Hope Amanda’s okay, boss. We’re holding the fort here, so don’t worry. There’s nothing much to report, anyway, and Uppity Uma has loved being in charge. I’ll keep you updated.”

  Uppity Uma was actually Karen Saint-John, a member of the team sent from head office. She’d been christened Uppity Uma as she bore an uncanny resemblance to Uma Thurman, the actress, and of course she was full of her own self-importance and arrogant to boot. I laughed, imagining Karen’s delight at my absence.

  I returned the call, and Frances answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I said. “I got your message, but I can’t bear sitting around doing nothing but sip tea all day. I need to track the nutcase down before he vanishes once and for all.”

  “If there’s anything I can do ...”

  “I know, and I’ll ask. Thanks, Frances. I owe you one. Anyway, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Hang on a minute, boss.” Her voice became muffled as she had a conversation with somebody else, and then she was back. “You’ll never guess what? There’s been another shooting, only this time it went wrong.”

  “How?”

  “The target was shot, but he’s still alive. Somebody apparently intervened, and the shooter ended up shooting herself in the stomach. She’s dead, boss.”

  “Fuck me! Whereabouts? I’ll meet you there.”

  “At the multiplex. I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 39

  “Eat up, babygirl. It’s your favourite.”

  “Not hungry.” Mary pushed the bowl of chocolate-covered cereal away from her.

  “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”

  “I said, I’m NOT hungry!”

  “Then get back up them stairs to bed, you ungrateful bitch!” Andrew yelled, swiping the bowl from the table. The brown milk and soggy clumps splattered up the wall and all over the kitchen tiles.

  Mary gasped, her hand pressed to her mouth, as she fled from the room.

  Andrew snatched the tea towel from over his shoulder and threw it to the kitchen bench. “Fuck!” he growled, trying to steady his breathing and, at the same time, control his temper. The last thing he’d wanted was to upset her, but she had been trying his patience to the max.

  After cleaning up the mess, he crept up the stairs and found Mary face down on the single mattress on the floor.

  “Mary?” he said, his voice once again gentle.

  She sniffed.

  “I’m sorry, babygirl. I just wanted everything to be perfect, but now look. I’ve spoiled everything.”

  She turned to face him, her lips quivering. “No, you haven’t. It’s okay.”

  “Really? Do you really mean that? Can we start again?” He sat on the edge of the mattress, his legs stretched out in front of him on the dusty wooden floor.

  She nodded and threw herself into his arms.

  After a short while, he kissed the top of her head. “Daddy needs to do something, babygirl. Will you be all right here for a little while?”

  Mary took a deep, bracing breath before nodding.

  “That’s my big, brave girl. Please stay up here, and don’t answer the door, whatever you do. Do you hear?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll get you some shoes and clothes. Do you know what size shoe you take?”

  “Size two. Sandra bought some for me yesterday. Why don’t we just call her? You could pick up my clothes at the same time.”

  “Size two. Then I’ll get you some new ones. After all, a girl can’t have too many pairs of shoes, can she?” He got to his feet. “Now, how about something else? Any magazines? Books?”

  “Can I have some books, please?”

  “Of course you can, babygirl. I’ll get you a selection.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  He left the house with a spring in his step. Maybe things would be all right after all.

  Two young scallywags were hanging around by the car.

  “Oi! What you up to?”

  “Fuck off, mister.” The youngest boy, no more than ten-years, raised his middle finger as he backed up.

  “You cheeky little ...” Andrew took a step towards them, lifting his arm.

  The boys flinched and ran up the street, then turned and began taunting him once they were far enough away to avoid a beating. When Andrew made as to chase them, they vanished around the corner.

  Andrew glanced up and down the street before getting into the car. He drove for forty-five minutes to a huge indoor shopping mall in the next city.

  It took thirty minutes t
o get everything he needed—two pairs of shoes, a selection of girl’s clothes, and several books. He also bought a cheap, throwaway phone.

  After hot-wiring a different car, this time a green Rover, he made it back to the house inside two hours.

  As he pulled onto the street, he was horrified to see Mary standing on the bedroom windowsill, her head out of the top window, a beaming smile on her face. One of the boys from earlier was sitting on a bike. The other was swinging on the gate outside Andrew’s front door.

  Chapter 40

  The crime scene was one of utter carnage. There were three police cars as well as three ambulances. The victim had been shot in the upper chest and, by the time I arrived, several paramedics were working hard to try to save his life.

  Frances appeared at my elbow.

  “Shit, you got here quick! You must have broken the speed limit,” I said.

  She laughed and, with her gloved hand, lifted a sports bag up. “Fifty grand. Just like the others.”

  “Yesss,” I hissed.

  The shooter had suffered a fatal gunshot wound to her stomach and was still lying, draped in a sheet, on the footpath next to the cinema. I lifted the corner, surprised at how small and fragile the Asian woman looked. She could have easily passed for a child at first glance.

  Sitting in the back of another ambulance, Jacqueline Brewer, the person responsible for saving the victim’s life, and in reality, the death of the shooter, was also wrapped in a sheet. She was a heavier-set woman in her twenties, and the shock of what happened had only just begun to hit her.

  Frances introduced us both as she knelt beside the woman.

  “You were very brave,” Frances said.

  Jacqueline shrugged. “I didn’t think about it—just saw the gun and freaked!”

  “Even so, it could have turned nastier than it did.”