Dark Games:

by Taylor Leon

  I just hoped to God they found them before they found me.

  Cade asked Hargreaves who had access to his computer at home.

  Hargreaves told them, only himself.

  Cade asked if his wife also had access.

  Hargreaves said she had access, but didn’t use it. She had a tablet.

  ‘So, to be clear,’ Cade said carefully. ‘You are the only one who uses your home computer?’

  Hargreaves said, yes.

  Cade then reminded them all for the record that his real name was once Keith Harvey.

  His lawyer jumped in and reminded everyone that they went through this last time. His client agreed that he changed his name when he was a teenager. Nothing illegal about that, so what?

  Cade asked how many people knew Keith Harvey became Keith Hargreaves.

  His parents were both dead now, so only Louise and a couple of close friends.

  ‘And to re-iterate,’ Cade said, ‘you are the only one with access to your home computer?’

  The lawyer snapped. ‘My client has answered that question.’

  But Hargreaves re-confirmed his answer anyway.

  The lawyer asked if there was a point to this line of questioning?

  Cade ignored him and asked Hargreaves how much his company was worth.

  Hargreaves gave him an eight-figure answer.

  Cade asked him about his personal wealth.

  Hargreaves gave a vague estimate. Just under seven figures, mainly in stocks and shares.

  Cade asked him what the company’s cash flow was like.

  It was healthy.

  Cash rich?

  Yes.

  Arnie looked at me. He assumed that the killers had to be paid.

  I knew he had promised one of them a million pounds.

  Cade jumped back to the main thrust of his argument.

  Hargreaves knew Elias James, correct?

  Hargreaves nodded.

  The lawyer rolled his eyes.

  Hargreaves also knew Melissa Fairweather and Jennifer Brooks?

  ‘Vaguely,’ Hargreaves replied, and his lawyer let out a huge sigh.

  Did Hargreaves know Amy Harper and Oriane Law?

  Hargreaves said, ‘No. For the hundredth time, no.’

  His lawyer scribbled some notes whilst shaking his head.

  But his head jerked back up when Cade passed some photocopied sheets across the table.

  The lawyer stopped writing, and looked into Cade’s eyes.

  He knew now that this was the reason they were back here.

  His client frowned, and asked what they were looking at.

  Cade told them.

  These were printouts and confirmations showing who had accessed the victims’ social media sites in the last six months. The first two pages were for Amy Harper and Oriane Law, the two girls Hargreaves denied knowing.

  It proved a Keith Harvey had been following them on Keith Hargreaves’s home computer.

  47

  KEITH HARGREAVES WAS a broken man.

  We’d hold him overnight and continue the questioning in the morning. Cade had pushed as hard as he could to get him to admit he was paying serial killers to carry out his crimes, but Hargreaves clamped up at that point. Now he knew we’d linked him to all five suspects he had resolved to not say another word. We’d seized his computer and files from his office, and then this afternoon we had seized the same from his home.

  As for protecting myself from an imminent attack, we generally don’t get to carry guns in the UK, not unless you work in one of the specialist branches. So, the best defence I had was the Taser; a yellow stun-gun which fired an electrical charge into a suspect to incapacitate him. It looked just like a pistol and when I got ready to go home that evening I slipped it into the holster I’d strapped around my shoulder. It felt bulky and uncomfortable under my jacket. It wasn’t something I was used to carrying, but God knows I felt a lot more confident wearing it.

  Cade appeared in the doorway of the locker-room. ‘Hey,’ he called softly.

  We were the only two in here. I murmured, ‘Hi,’ but didn’t make eye-contact.

  ‘Me, George and a few of the team are going out for a couple of drinks. You fancy joining us?’

  ‘No thanks,’ I said and turned to leave.

  ‘You were right,’ he said, blocking my path. ‘You said all along there was more than one killer. Then you said there was someone leading them and you were right again.’

  ‘We haven’t charged Hargreaves yet,’ I reminded him.

  ‘We will,’ he said confidently. ‘Tomorrow. You called it right, and I’m sorry.’

  ‘I had some help from a mutual friend.’

  He looked at me quizzically.

  ‘Meredith,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’ he frowned. ‘I didn’t think you had her down as a friend.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I shrugged. ‘But she persisted with Keith Hargreaves. She was the one who uncovered his real teenage identity and his link to Elias James. I was only surprised she gave me the heads-up and not you.’

  ‘Why would she give me a heads-up?’

  ‘She told me about you and her.’

  He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘But I thought-’

  ‘Then you thought wrong,’ he said gently. ‘It was a drunken one-night stand, just when me and the wife were past breaking point. I’m not proud of it, but that’s all it was. Meredith never misses an opportunity to remind me with her little innuendos, and I take it. But I barely knew her before, and I don’t know her much better now.’

  ‘I see,’ I said, sounding formal and foolish.

  ‘So, that is why you’ve been cold towards me?’ he said, and stepped forward so his face was only inches away from mine.

  ‘I didn’t mean-’

  ‘Erin,’ he cut across. ‘I meant what I said, I don’t want to leave here on bad terms with anyone.’

  ‘So, you are definitely leaving?’

  ‘You know I have to be near my son.’

  I think my brain disconnected from my mouth, and the words just fell out. ‘Don’t go.’

  Then he was impossibly close, and I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ he whispered.

  And then he was kissing me hard, his lips against mine, his tongue darting inside my mouth, stroking against mine as his arms slipped around me and pulled me close. This was what I needed. I didn’t want it to end, this warm feeling, like lying on a secluded beach in the heat, with a warm tide gently lapping over me.

  My own heaven.

  Cade pulled away first. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.

  ‘What’s under there?’ he said, nodding towards my shoulder. ‘Are you armed?’

  ‘And dangerous,’ I said softly, and pulled him back in. He was kissing me again, this time more forcefully, his hands pulling me up even closer to him. And I loved it! The hunger and the passion was turning me on and I knew this could only end one way.

  But…

  Vranch was outside in the corridor, shouting for him.

  Cade pulled away. ‘I have to go,’ he said breathlessly. He still had his arms around me.

  The door behind him started opening and I pulled his arms away and hurriedly stepped back.

  Vranch peered round the door. ‘Oh, you’re in here,’ he said, without a whiff of suspicion. ‘Are you coming?’ he looked over at me. ‘We’re just going for a few drinks to unwind. You want to join us?’

  ‘I’d like to,’ I smiled. ‘But I have to go home and take care of Sampson.’

  Vranch nodded. ‘John?’

  ‘Right behind you, buddy,’ he said, and paused until Vranch had left.

  ‘Maybe we should continue this conversation later,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe we should.’

  ‘After you’ve taken care of Sampson,’ he smiled.

  ‘And after you’ve had a drink with the b
oys.’

  ‘Wait up,’ he said hoarsely.

  ‘Don’t drink too much,’ I replied coquettishly.

  We stepped out of the locker room and I let him walk ahead. He turned and walked backwards not taking his eyes off me in case I went up in a puff of smoke and disappeared. Then, when he’d gone through the double doors, I stared after him like some lovesick teenager.

  And that’s when my mobile rang. I looked down and saw Frankie’s number.

  But once again, it wasn’t her on the other end.

  ‘Is that Detective Erin Dark?’

  ‘Who’s this?’ I asked.

  ‘For the sake of this conversation, you can call me FRIGHT-NIGHT.’

  48

  I KNEW IT was madness to come here alone, but I had no choice. He told me I had forty-five minutes to meet him, or Frankie died. I used the Sat-Nav to find my way to the post-code he had given me, and after forty minutes it announced that I had reached my destination.

  There was a large field in front of me that stretched back into the darkness. It seemed deserted, save for all the fairground structures and stalls that had been set up. A huge poster announced it was opening tomorrow morning.

  Was he really holding Frankie in there?

  My phone rang again and Frankie’s number flashed up.

  ‘I hope you followed my instructions and came alone,’ he said.

  He was out there in the darkness, watching me.

  ‘Bear to the right and you’ll see a small path that leads to the edge of the site. Drive to the end and I will meet you there.’

  I followed the narrow dirt-track across the field for a couple of hundred yards until I reached a low wooden fence which bordered the fairground. When I turned off the ignition the whole night fell silent, and I felt like the last person on Earth.

  A torchlight appeared out of nowhere, close to the windscreen and right in my face. Then it circled around the car, onto the passenger seat, then the back seat, all the way around until it was coming in through the side window, right next to my head. He tapped the torch against the glass, motioning for me to open the window. I turned the key one click in the ignition so I could automatically slide it down. I had to lift my forearm to protect myself from the torch’s glare.

  ‘If you don’t do as I say, then your friend dies,’ he said calmly.

  I guess my life wasn’t up for negotiation.

  As the light moved off me, I cautiously dropped my arm. He was shining the beam across the backseat again, double-checking there was no-one there. Then he came back to me and pulled the door open.

  ‘Okay, get out,’ he said. ‘But keep your hands up where I can see them.’

  I did exactly as he said, keeping my eyes closed because he was shining the light deliberately into my face.

  ‘I want to see Frankie,’ I said.

  He ignored me. ‘Turn around and face the car.’

  This is it, I thought. He’s going to kill me. If I’m going to put up a fight, then it needs to be now.

  ‘I’m not doing anything until I see her,’ I told him.

  ‘Do as I say, or she dies,’ he repeated.

  I slowly turned, tensing my body, ready to lash out as soon as he came within range. But he was too quick, suddenly pushing me forward so my chin smashed against the side of the car. I tried to break free but he had me pressed tight, one knee on my back.

  He forced me down onto the ground so I was lying on my front. He held my wrists together behind my back and tied them tight with cord. When he finished, he rolled me over and sat on my chest. I saw him for the first time under the moonlight. He was extremely good-looking, and well built. I could see that he had trapped the torch under his armpit while he had tied me up. Now he pulled it out and leaned forward under my jacket.

  ‘What do we have here?’ he asked, feeling around the bulge until he located the Taser.

  ‘A gun?’ he laughed, as he held the weapon up in a gloved hand. ‘Well, you won’t be needing that,’ and he tossed it back, over his shoulder.

  He climbed off me, roughly pulled me to my feet, and spun me around so I was facing the empty fairground, then pushed me forward. ‘There’s a small gap in the fence coming up on your right. Go through it.’

  He shone the light forward over my shoulder, and I could see where the wooden slats had broken away. I stepped through the hole and felt his hand pushing into the small of my back and driving me on into the deserted fairground.

  The stalls all had their shutters down and the rides were in darkness. I could make out the “Minotaur” ghost ride, and bumper cars. The big Ferris wheel took pride of place in the centre of the park. It should have looked imperious, but instead on this cold, clear night it looked skeletal and dead, like a washed-up shipwreck.

  He stopped me underneath it. There was a pile of junk, boxes that someone, presumably the vendor had piled up. FRIGHT-NIGHT pushed me hard so I toppled forward onto them. They fell away and I screamed out, expecting to smash my head against the ground. But instead I hit something soft…

  A body!

  I shifted to one side, so I could see.

  Frankie.

  Oh God, no!

  I cried out, not caring how he reacted to my noise. To hell with it, she was dead and he was going to kill me whatever, so I had nothing to lose.

  ‘She’s not dead,’ he shouted from above me, kicking a box to one side. ‘But if you don’t shut the fuck up right now, then she will be.’

  ‘What have you done to her?’ I whispered, putting my head against her chest.

  Yes, she was breathing!

  ‘I have been following you for the last couple of days, but just couldn’t get you alone. Then I saw you pick her up from a nightclub and take her back to your place. It occurred to me that if I couldn’t get close to you, I would have to use someone close to you as bait. So, I followed her when she left your flat today, and casually bumped into her in town. I hit her with my charm offensive, invited her out for a coffee, then dropped a little something into her drink to help her sleep. It made her woozy enough to get her into my car. After that, it was just a question of choosing a place and time for us to meet.’

  He reached into his black bomber jacket and pulled out his mobile phone. Putting the torch back under his armpit he started typing.

  ‘You think by killing me you are going to win the million pounds?’ I said.

  He didn’t even look up. ‘

  ‘There’s no prize,’ I told him. ‘It’s over.’

  He glanced down at his phone, smiling. ‘And what makes you say that?’

  ‘Because we have THE GAMES-MASTER in jail.’

  ‘Really?’ he said, as his phone pinged. ‘Now that is interesting because I have him on-line, right here.’

  49

  THE POSSIBILITY THAT Keith Hargreaves was not THE GAMES-MASTER, chilled me.

  FRIGHT-NIGHT continued typing into and then reading from his phone. When he finished he slipped it back inside his jacket.

  ‘It’s confirmed,’ he said. ‘Kill you, and then THE GAMES-MASTER and I will eliminate the seventh target together.’

  ‘And you really believe he’ll give you a million pounds?’

  ‘Oh, he’ll pay up,’ FRIGHT-NIGHT said. ‘He wouldn’t want to piss off a real serial killer, would he?’

  ‘Why not?’ I said, thinking fast. ‘If you’ve killed everyone he wants, then he doesn’t need you anymore. He can just disappear. I bet you don’t even know who he is.’

  ‘Let me worry about that,’ he said, stepping forward.

  I rolled away from Frankie, and behind one of the boxes. I drew my knees right back and then, as he stepped over the crate to get to me, I launched forward. The soles of my feet smashed into his groin, and he emitted a howl of pain, before falling back.

  I pushed myself up onto my feet, while he was still writhing on the floor. I needed to finish him off quickly, before he had a chance to recover. I was about to give a hefty kick to his stomach, when he spun on
his back, his legs uncurled out of their foetal position, and in one swift movement he swept my legs out from underneath me. I fell back, and this time he was up on his feet, towering over me, his face silhouetted by the full moon in the clear sky.

  ‘You are going to be so sorry you did that,’ he said.

  He kicked my legs hard, before dropping down onto my chest, slamming the wind out of me.

  ‘I’ve been fairly humane up until now,’ he mused lightly.

  ‘How many murders have there been?’ I forced the words out, as he shifted his body until he was sitting on my diaphragm. I was struggling to breathe, but I had to keep him talking for as long as possible. Buy as much time as I could.

  ‘For THE GAMES-MASTER, or in total?’ He leaned into the crook of my neck, like a vampire ready to take his first bite. The clear starry sky, the full moon, the deserted fairground, the setting would have been perfect for a vampire movie. But instead of drawing blood, he whispered in my ear. ‘Is that what turns you on, Detective? The power I have to snuff out a life?’

  I squirmed beneath him, pulling my head away from his warm breath.

  He shifted and sat up a little. ‘You really are pretty,’ he said. ‘My type even.’ He placed a hand lightly around my throat.

  ‘Let me see,’ he said softly. ‘In answer to your question, there have been two murders for THE GAMES-MASTER. There would have been a third, but she escaped, and so THE CHAMELEON ended up killing her instead. But before THE GAMES-MASTER?’ He looked wistfully through me, as the sick bastard reminisced.

  ‘Zara was the first,’ he whispered eventually. ‘A foreign student. I can’t remember exactly where from. Sweden, I think. Or was it Denmark? She was real pretty, just like you.’

  I couldn’t breathe properly with his weight on me, the best I could manage was a series of shallow pants.

  ‘It was on the south coast,’ he continued. ‘I was there with my mother and her sister. It was a long time ago. Zara was only eighteen, here on some foreign exchange. I was younger, but told her I was nineteen and looked it. We met in a bar neither of us were supposed to be in, and I asked to meet her alone. I was desperate to have sex for the first time and I thought she was the one. So, the next night I snuck out of the hotel while Mom and my Aunt got sloshed in the hotel bar.