by DS Butler
“Why don’t you just call them? Tell them you’re going to be a bit late. I’m sure they’ll understand,” Kathy said.
“I haven’t got my phone,” Tim said. “It was in my bag, and they made me leave it outside the cafe.”
Stuart rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his mobile. “Here, you can use mine.”
Tim took the phone with a grunt of thanks. He turned away from them and began to dial.
Kathy listened as Tim apologised to someone called Fiona.
They all turned as the door opened, and a young policewoman entered the room. Kathy recognised her and thought again that the woman would look so much better if she would put a few highlights in her hair. If she stuck to her natural colour, she wouldn’t look so peaky.
Behind the policewoman, a slightly older man entered. Kathy couldn’t remember his name, but she remembered seeing him around after the first gas attack at the newsagent’s.
Both of the officers stared at them, coolly evaluating them, before the female officer spoke.
“I’m DC Charlotte Brown, and this is DC Nick Collins. We need to ask you a few questions about what happened this afternoon.”
They’d answered questions as soon as the police had arrived, telling them about the buckets and what they were afraid of. But DC Brown and DC Collins wanted to go through things in a lot more detail.
After they’d been talking for half an hour, asking similar questions, each time rephrasing them slightly, Tim began to lose patience.
“Look, I know this is important, and I do want to help, but I have to get to work. So is there any way we can speed this up?”
DC Charlotte Brown gave him a sharp look that made him break eye contact. Kathy mentally cheered her.
“We are doing this as quickly and safely as we can, sir,” DC Brown said. “We need to be thorough.”
“But it was nothing to do with me,” Tim said. “I just happened to be passing. It’s them you need to talk to.” He waggled a hand in Kathy’s direction. “I wasn’t the intended victim…” Tim flushed as he realised what he’d said.
Stuart got to his feet, pushing his chair back roughly so it scraped along the floor. “You insensitive bastard!”
Tim took a step back. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
DC Collins stood up and positioned himself in between Tim and Stuart. “All right settle down. This isn’t helping anyone.” He turned to Tim. “You can go. But we’ll need to speak to you again later.”
Tim looked extremely pleased with himself. “I can go?”
DC Brown gave him a tight smile. “Yes.”
Tim reached for his light cotton jacket and tossed it over his shoulder. “Well, good.” He turned to the group of them and raised his hand. “I’ll see you later.” Tim opened the trailer door and walked down the steps without looking back.
After the door closed, Kathy asked, “Can you tell us if it was the same gas?”
DC Charlotte Brown settled back in her chair and snapped the lid back on her pen. She tapped it against her bottom lip. “It looks like you disturbed the setup. One of the chemicals was already present in the buckets, but in order to generate enough gas two chemicals have to be mixed together. The second chemical had only been added to one of the buckets.”
Kathy swallowed.
DC Collins nodded. “We think that whoever did this was disturbed before he could add the second chemical to the rest of the buckets. In short, you had an extremely lucky escape.”
Kathy let the policeman’s words sink in, and then exhaled a shaky breath. “Who do you think he was trying to kill?”
“Don’t get hysterical, woman,” Mitch said. “It’s probably just some nut job who picked us at random.”
“I am not being hysterical thank you, Mitch,” Kathy said through gritted teeth.
“We don’t have all the answers yet,” DC Brown said. “I know this must be very scary. Is there someone you could stay with for a while?”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Mitch said. “I’m not being driven out of my own home by some nutcase.”
Kathy felt Stuart’s hand wrap around hers. “You can stay with me. You’ll be okay. I promise.”
Kathy felt tears prick the corner of her eyes. She didn’t trust herself to speak so she just squeezed Stuart’s hand and nodded, hoping he would realise just how grateful she was.
64
STAYING IN THE OFFICE was driving Mackinnon crazy.
He’d had to watch Collins and Charlotte dash out after news came in of another gas attack. He couldn’t believe he was sitting at a desk while that was going on.
Mackinnon put down the photocopied pages of the black notebook found in the masked man’s bag. He rubbed his eyes, which were sore from trying to read the tiny, scribbled text. He’d been trying to make sense of it, to decipher some kind of clue. It was a waste of time. Collins had been right when he said it was full of deranged ramblings.
His only company in the office were the two indexers sitting a couple of desks away and DC Webb who scrunched his face up, looking at his computer screen.
It was so quiet Mackinnon could hear the gentle hum of the air conditioning.
He got up from his desk and walked across to the window, staring out at the grey clouds looming above the city skyline. He’d been thinking about going back to Chloe’s tonight and firing up the barbecue. Maybe the weather would be better in Oxford. There wasn’t much point hanging around here if he wasn’t wanted. He was supposed to be on rest days anyway.
He returned to his desk and flicked through a few more pages of the dense handwriting. The original notebook had gone to the lab. Mackinnon read through the quotes one more time. Whoever he was, the masked man had a fixation on justice.
Was he some kind of vigilante? That would explain why he had focused on a group of known troublemakers. It didn’t explain the most recent attack. Why Mitch Horrocks? He seemed an unlikely candidate for the attention of the masked man. And Mrs. Horrocks? Even more unlikely.
The members of Vinnie Pearson’s gang were a bunch of misfits. Could this vigilante be someone whose property was damaged last year during the riots? Had he decided to take justice into his own hands?
Mackinnon had a feeling it was something like that. Something local. But what the hell was the connection to Mitch Horrocks? He shoved the piece of paper he’d been reading away from him and picked up another.
As Mackinnon read through some more of the quotes, he shook his head. He had heard of some of them, but others were really out there, really obscure. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. He re-stacked the photocopied pages into a neat pile on his desk, and then glanced at his watch. He needed to get a move on if he wanted to get back to Oxford at a reasonable time.
He had planned to call in at Fiona’s again, to see how they were doing with the new carer, Tim Coleman. Mackinnon felt responsible, after all he put Tim Coleman’s name forward. But if he dropped in there, before driving to Oxford, he’d hit rush-hour.
Mackinnon picked up his mobile and scrolled through the contacts to get Fiona’s number.
She answered on the third ring.
At first, she sounded great, and pleased to hear from him. He enquired after Anna and asked how she was getting along with Tim. It seemed everything was going fine.
“Tim’s running a bit late today,” Fiona said. “But he’s been really brilliant. I can’t thank you enough for recommending him.”
“I’m glad he’s working out. I…”
There was the sound of smashing glass and a muffled curse.
“Fiona?”
He could hear Fiona’s voice, but it sounded distant as if she’d put down the phone and moved away.
“Christ, Tim,” Fiona said. “You scared me.”
Mackinnon could just about make out the low rumble of a man’s voice, but he couldn’t decipher the words.
“What’s happened?” Fiona’s voice sounded high pitched and panicked. “What’s that awful smell? Oh,
God. It’s repulsive.”
“Fiona? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Mackinnon shouted down the phone, not caring that both the indexers and DC Webb turned to stare at him.
The line went dead.
“What’s the matter?” DC Webb asked.
Mackinnon shook his head. “I’m not sure. It might be nothing.”
He tried to call Fiona back, but the phone rang and rang. He had a bad feeling about this. Fiona mentioned a smell …
He remembered the smell of the hydrogen sulphide. The putrid, dense, creeping scent. The memory was so strong he almost believed he could smell it now.
Could Tim Coleman be this masked vigilante? Surely not. But then again he’d shown his clear dislike of Mitch Horrocks.
Mackinnon had given Fiona Tim’s card. He’d given him the green light to enter Fiona Evans’ house. Had he given a killer unlimited access to Fiona and her children?
Mackinnon got to his feet, feeling sick. He hoped to God he was wrong about this. He scrawled Fiona’s address on a post-it note and handed it to DC Webb.
“I’m going to check it out. Make sure she’s okay. I can’t get through.”
DC Webb nodded and took the note. “Do you think something’s happened?”
“Tim Coleman just arrived at Fiona Evans’ house. She sounded scared… And she mentioned a smell before the line went dead…”
DC Webb reached for the phone on his desk. “I’ll make sure the local unit checks it out straight away. They’ll be able to get there before you.”
Mackinnon pressed the speed dial on his phone for Collins, but he wasn’t answering.
He took Collins’ car keys from the unlocked top drawer of Collins’ desk. He could use a pool car, but that would take time, and Mackinnon was sure Collins wouldn’t mind. It was an emergency.
Mackinnon tried to call Fiona again on the way out of the car park. There was still no answer. As the seconds ticked past, he was becoming more and more concerned.
It took nearly forty minutes to get there, but it felt like hours. When he finally arrived, he couldn’t find a space to park, so he parked over double yellow lines.
He saw a police patrol car parked two spaces away, and he felt his throat tighten. Please let this be a false alarm. He was already responsible for putting this family through so much.
Mackinnon jogged up the stone steps and rapped on the front door.
After a moment, Fiona opened the door. Her face was white, but she didn’t look scared. She looked angry.
She blinked up at Mackinnon. “You got the police to come to my house? Just because I didn’t answer the phone?”
Her jaw was tight as she opened the door wider for Mackinnon to come in.
She turned her back on him and stalked into the sitting room. “I hope you can explain to these officers why they are here. Because I can’t.”
Mackinnon closed the front door behind him and followed her.
The two uniformed police officers sat next to each other on the sofa, cradling mugs of tea. They both looked very relaxed.
On the other side of the room, Tim Coleman sat in an armchair. His hair was wet and he wasn’t dressed. He sat there with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Mackinnon wasn’t sure why that annoyed him as much as it did.
“Well?” Fiona prompted, sitting down on the armchair next to Tim’s and crossing her legs.
“I thought something had happened,” Mackinnon said. “Why did you hang up?”
“Er… Perhaps I could answer that,” Tim Coleman said and smiled at Fiona. “I was caught up in the incident on East Street this afternoon. The gas at the cafe. It lingers, you see, and I came straight here, smelling pretty awful.”
“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t answer the phone when I tried to ring back,” Mackinnon said.
“We didn’t answer because Tim got in the shower to try and get rid of that awful smell,” Fiona said. “And I had to deal with Luke upstairs.”
Mackinnon turned to the two uniformed PCs. “Thanks for your help. I’m sorry to waste your time.”
“So long as everything is all right,” the taller of the two PCs said. “We’ll be on our way.”
They both got to their feet and handed their empty mugs to Fiona. “Thanks for the tea.”
Fiona walked them to the door. Mackinnon followed. “I need to move my car. I parked on double yellows.”
As Mackinnon walked with the officers towards his car, one of the officers said, “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m sorry you had a wasted trip. I guess I’m still a little on edge. I had a terrible feeling when she mentioned the smell. It set off alarm bells.”
“Well that’s understandable.” The officer tugged on his beard. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but Mrs. Evans didn’t seem too happy about our arrival.”
Mackinnon pulled the car keys out of his trousers pocket. “No, she didn’t seem best pleased.”
The officer with the beard nodded. “Better to be safe than sorry. And we did get a nice cup of tea out of it.” He grinned.
After their patrol car had pulled away, Mackinnon parked in their vacated spot outside Fiona’s house. He didn’t really want to go back inside, but he knew he had to face the music. Perhaps he had been too quick to jump to conclusions, but he’d only wanted to make sure they were safe.
Fiona had left the front door ajar, and Mackinnon let himself back in with a quick rap on the door. He could hear Fiona and Tim laughing in the sitting room.
As Mackinnon entered the sitting room, the smile dropped from Fiona’s face, making it clear she still hadn’t forgiven him.
“I’ll be off then,” Mackinnon said.
“What? Is that it? No apology?” Tim scoffed.
Mackinnon rounded on Tim, glad to have a suitable target for his anger. “Me apologise? I think you’re the one who needs to apologise for putting Fiona and her children at risk. What were you thinking coming here stinking of that stuff?”
“Well, of course… I didn’t mean…” Tim spluttered.
“And put some bloody clothes on,” Mackinnon said.
Tim stood up, clutching his towel. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
As he left the room, Mackinnon turned to Fiona. “I’m sorry, but I was genuinely worried.”
Fiona shook her head. Her fists clenched at her sides. “I should have called you back. I should have realised you would be worried. I just got distracted. Luke was distressed, and I had to deal with him because Tim was in the shower.”
Fiona walked him to the door. She leaned against the door frame as Mackinnon headed to the car. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really angry, but when I saw those two policemen standing on my step, I panicked. I felt something awful had happened, and it just brought back everything that happened with Bruce.”
Mackinnon felt his stomach sink to his shoes. He turned around. “I didn’t think.”
He moved back to the front door and stood next to Fiona. “I was trying to get here myself, but I thought I’d be too late. I just had this horrible feeling it was the gas… And if it was Tim… And I was the one who gave you his number…” Mackinnon looked away. “I needed to make sure you were all okay.”
Fiona smiled. “Let’s forget it. No harm done.”
As Mackinnon drove back to the station, he had time to think about how he had screwed up. Maybe Brookbank was right. Maybe he did need some time away from the team.
He decided to drive back via East Street. He could leave Collins’ car there and finding out what was going on might make him feel better. It might even make him believe they would eventually catch this bastard.
65
EAST STREET HAD BEEN sealed off either side of the cafe. The blue police tape flickered in the wind. Mackinnon parked Collins’ car behind the cordon and approached the two squad cars blocking the road.
Already, a crowd of gawpers had gathered, eager to see what was going on. Mackinnon was surprised the TV crews weren’t here already, to gather ne
w material for their next story on ‘the masked man.’ The heavy sulphurous smell hung in the air and turned Mackinnon’s stomach.
He threaded his way through the crowd and showed his warrant card to a harassed uniformed officer, who was doing his best to divert an angry group of commuters. The officer waved Mackinnon through the cordon.
As Mackinnon headed down East Street toward the cafe, uniformed officers escorted residents and employees in the opposite direction, towards the safe area behind the cordon.
Mackinnon spotted Charlotte and Collins straightaway. They stood close to the temporary setup at the end of East Street.
Collins spotted Mackinnon and waved. As Mackinnon walked towards him a clap of thunder echoed over the street. Mackinnon looked up at the angry sky and fastened the button on his suit jacket.
“All right, Jack?” Collins said, walking forward to meet him.
Mackinnon nodded. “Fine, apart from making a complete fool of myself.”
Collins grinned. “You should be used to that by now,” he teased. “What happened this time?”
“What’s going on here,” Mackinnon said, rather than answer Collins’ question. “Have you got any idea who is doing this yet?”
Collins shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the wind that whipped around them. “It looks like our masked man was disturbed this time. There were buckets filled with chemicals, but he hadn’t had time to add the catalyst to all of the buckets before someone stumbled across them, which means, fortunately, this time there’s been no casualties.”
“And it was in the cafe this time?”
Collins nodded. “Yes. The hairdresser from the salon two doors along had gone to the flat above the cafe to look after the old lady, while Mitch Horrocks went to the supermarket. She found the buckets.”
“Did she see anyone?”
Collins shook his head. “No one. We’ve got uniform talking to the residents and the people working in the shops in this parade. But no luck so far. No one has seen anything.”
Collins stared down at his shoes. “It doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere.”