by Zach Abrams
“What difference does it make now?” Burns replied.
“We'd really like to understand what's behind all of this. We know it must have been something significant to make you react after all the time you'd tolerated him.” Sandra wanted to keep him talking; the more time she could spin then the more chance of a rescue.
Burns felt assured realising Travers' weapon was restraining his accusers, and knowing it could not make his predicament any worse, he seemed happy to talk and exemplify his current position of power. He wasn't the sort to be relieved to unburden himself with a confession but instead took on the role of a lecturer, flamboyant in his explanation. “I don't see that it matters now, but Hector had already caused so much damage, and left unchecked, he was going to destroy my business. He was talking to a lot of the wrong people. It was bad enough he was trying to offload the company, but the way he was going about it, he was completely undermining its value and he'd have ended up selling it for next to nothing.” Burns became more relaxed the more he spoke. He could have been describing a family outing to the park rather than a murderous explosion of anger.
“After his meeting with Holbein, he wanted to talk to me. I didn't want to risk being seen with him and I told him I'd meet him at midnight in the shop. Travers helped me to get in using the tunnel. I arrived early and saw him having sex with some slut.”
Burns was about to explain further but saw Sandra and Phil nod and realised they were already aware. “I stayed in the cask room until first he left and then she did before he returned. I told him what I thought of him and his ways. My family had been good to him and this was how he was repaying us. His incompetence was destroying my business. He laughed at me, called me old and useless and said he'd do whatever he wanted and I couldn't do anything about it. He reminded me about the power of attorney and that I had no legal powers and said he wanted me to see exactly how he was screwing everything up because he was enjoying making me suffer. It was deliberate that he'd let me catch him fornicating with that tramp. It wasn't enough for him to fuck up the business; he wanted to rub my nose in it as well.
“I just lost it, `couldn't do anything about it,' I'd show him. I was using my walking stick for support, it was in my hand and before I even knew it, I'd wielded it round and struck him with its head. It was an antique stick; it had ornamental glass on the top which shattered when it hit him. Hector went down as if he'd been pole-axed. Travers checked him and told me he was dead, just one blow and he was gone. I should have done it years ago. I think I would have if I'd known how easy it would be. Travers tidied up as much as he could so we didn't leave a trail behind, then he pulled apart some of the racking to try to confuse what might be found. He also caused some damage in the shop and pinched a few bottles for good measure. It was all done as a diversion and I thought it worked quite well.
“The big question I have now is, `What do we do with you?' ”
“Don't you think you're in enough trouble already? There are other officers who know we're here and why we came. It would be best if you just give yourselves up.” Sandra was quaking but she replied confidently, displaying a composure she little felt.
“Not a chance of that,” Burns replied. “I've always lived my life the way I want. I'm not going to end it in a prison cell. Now, if you just do what you're told, you won't get hurt. Travers and I need to get the Hell away from here and I need to keep you out of the way for long enough for us to make our exit. Follow me out into the hall,” he commanded.
With Travers' gun barrel pointed at them the whole time, Burns led Sandra and Phil towards an under-stair cupboard and instructed them to get in.
“That's a fine looking gun, a Purdey twelve bore, isn't it? My father used to take me clay pigeon shooting, but we could never have afforded one of those,” Sandra observed. She had no way of knowing for sure, but she hoped her call had connected to Alex and he could follow what was going on. She wanted him to know as much as possible about what they were facing.
Burns grew suspicious. He carefully examined her and spotted a bulge in her pocket then rammed in his hand and pulled out her mobile. He slung it on the ground and crushed it underfoot.
“Very smart, but not smart enough,” he growled. “Now you,” he added pointing at Phil. Phil lifted his phone out for inspection and it was subjected to the same treatment.
“Now get in there.”
Phil looked into the confined space. It was small in area, about five feet by two, with a sloping ceiling and it was already packed full of rubbish bags. “You can't put us in there?” he pleaded. Conscious of being claustrophobic, Phil didn't know whether to be more afraid of the gun or of being locked in a tight space. He considered trying to jump Travers but there was no opportunity. Travers, maybe anticipating the risk, was standing at a distance. Phil was perspiring profusely and could feel sweat running down his neck. His palms felt moist and clammy.
“It's your choice,” Burns replied. “You seem to have a lot of evidence against me so I don't really have a lot to lose.” Burns turned and nodded to Travers who cocked the gun, ready to fire.
“Okay, okay, we'll go in. Just keep your finger away from that trigger,” Phil pleaded.
Burns pushed them forward into the cupboard then slammed the door and turned the key.
He and Travers then exited the back of the house and made for the garage. With Travers driving Burns's BMW 735, they shot down the driveway, not at all certain of their planned destination.
Only a glimmer of light penetrated the darkness under the stairs. Sandra and Phil couldn't see one another in the darkness but could vaguely make out the other's outline.
“Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into!” Phil muttered trying his best Oliver Hardy impersonation, attempting humour to distract his terrors.
* * *
For Alex, the day had started with a long lie in. He had a pleasant morning, breakfasting with his sons, and then delivered them in time for their planned activities. He'd collected Sanjay, Donny and Mary from the office and was on route to Benlochy when the call came through from Sandra. Using his Parrot system, he pressed the button to accept the call through the hands-free speaker. They were all shocked to hear what was going on, and Alex signalled everyone to stay silent until he had fished out his hand set to engage the mute facility and thereby prevent them from being heard. No sooner had he completed this task than his grip tightened on the wheel and his foot pressed harder on the accelerator. Simultaneously, he barked out instructions, “I'll keep this line connected to follow what's happening. Sanjay, use your own mobile and call for reinforcements. Emphasise it's an emergency and ask for the armed response unit with every support service they can muster.”
Following Burns's confession, they heard some noises after the phone was discovered, then the line went dead. They looked at each other with stunned expressions and Alex now floored the accelerator. Although staring at the road in front, Alex couldn't help himself visualising what might be happening to Sandra and Phil. He recollected the image of Sandra's naked body clinging to his in the shower the previous morning and the flicker of a smile touched his mouth but only for a second. Another more sinister recollection came to him, the only time when he'd seen the victims of death by gunfire in the flesh and, try as he might to avoid it, the images superimposed. Alex's hands were trembling and he adjusted his hold on the wheel to a vice-like grip to avoid it showing.
“Take it easy, Boss. There's no point us getting there without the back up or the right equipment,” Donny suggested.
“In case you didn't follow what came through on this phone, two of our colleagues are being held at gunpoint, and I consider it our duty to be on hand to provide any help they might need,” Alex spat back.
“I understand that, Sir. My first worry is the `gunpoint.' Does it really make sense to add the four of us as potential targets? My second concern is that driving at this speed, we might not have to worry about guns.”
“I've undergone full t
raining as a pursuit driver, so you need have no worries on that score. As for the firearms, thanks to Sandra's comments, we know that they have one twelve bore shotgun. They can fire only two rounds without reloading.”
“Just as long as neither of them is aimed at me,” Donny whispered.
At that particular point in time, Alex would have been happy to personally discharge both barrels with Donny as a target. “I have no intention of putting anyone in the line of fire. But I do want to be available for Sandra and Phil if they need us. If you're not happy about that, you can get out now. I can…” Alex was interrupted midsentence.
“They're on their way, Boss. One armed unit's already been scrambled and another will follow. Ambulances are being sent just in case and Traffic will be setting up road blocks. The chopper's on its way too, so they can't escape.”
Moments later, Alex screeched to a halt a few yards outside the entranceway, then instructed his passengers to disembark and take cover behind the wall. He then sat watching and saw the BMW approach. Alex thought it most likely that Sandra and Phil were locked up somewhere in the house, but even so, he was fearful of the possibility that Burns had changed his mind and brought them in the car. He considered his options, then decided he needed to stop their car, but he wanted to get his timing exactly correct. He could see Travers was driving so knew he couldn't also be holding the gun. Burns was on the far side, in the passenger seat beside him, and Alex knew, even if he had the weapon, he was prevented from being able to effectively use it because of his position and the lack of space. As the car increased in speed, making its final approach towards the gate, Alex quickly advanced the Santa Fe, completely blocking the entranceway. Seeing him only at the last second, Travers stamped on the brake and hauled on the steering, managing by only a few inches to avoid a collision, but it left his vehicle coming to rest against the stone wall. It was exactly as Alex had intended.
Without a moment's hesitation, the other three officers were upon them, pulling the car's doors open, removing the shotgun and then wrestling the two elderly occupants to the ground and handcuffing them.
Alex didn't waste any time looking to follow the outcome. Instead, he sprinted up the driveway and into the house seeking his subordinate officers and calling as he went. He found the key still in the lock of the under-stairs cupboard and, with some relief, opened it to set them free. Desperate to escape the confined space, Phil was first to throw himself through the open door. He shook Alex's hand and they then met in a manly hug as an affectionate thank you. No sooner had their grasp parted than Sandra flew into Alex's arms. They held each other closely and Alex gently caressed the wound on Sandra's cheek before her face turned for their mouths to meet in a full and deep embrace.
It was several moments before they reluctantly separated, but their eyes remained locked on each other as Alex stated the obvious, “I guess our secret's out now.”
In the background, Phil stood blinking in the daylight and then chuckled a reply. “What secret? I didn't see anything or hear anything. What with my fear of small spaces and after being locked in that cupboard, I can't be certain of anything. I'm sure it will take me several minutes for my senses to return.” Phil then discreetly turned his back to afford them a little privacy to resume their passionate reunion.
A few minutes later, the three clung to each other in mutual support as they staggered back to the main entrance to be met by their colleagues.
The sun was now splitting the sky but a strong wind had whipped up, sending clouds of dust airborne. There was a dull droning sound from an approaching helicopter and a crescendo of approaching sirens.
“Now the fun's over, I'll need to get back to write this lot up,” Sandra suggested dismally.
“What are you complaining about? I'm meant to be off today. I'd been planning to try and clear my office last week, before all this blew up, so maybe I'll come back and do it now. If you're working, I've nothing better to do,” Alex answered.
“Well, we could take some time to bask in the glory of another case closed, then for good measure we could have a drink to mark the occasion. After what we've been through, you might prefer to stay away from whisky for a while, but I've yet to open the bottle of Remy and we could do it tonight to celebrate.”
“You mean closing the case?”
“That too, but regardless of what Phil saw or admits to having seen, I think it's time to accept that we're a couple and I'll put in for a transfer.
The decision was a milestone in their relationship and they exchanged a passionate embrace, ignoring the questioning looks from their colleagues.
End
Author note
Thank you for reading A Measure of Trouble, I hope you enjoyed it. If so, I would be very grateful if you'd leave me a rating and review of the book.
If you have any comments or feedback you'd like to make more directly then please email me at: [email protected]
Also by Zach Abrams
Made A Killing
Made a Killing is the first novel in the Alex Warren series.
Scott Stevenson was a despicable character and nobody mourns when his bloody corpse is found with an ivory tusk driven through his torso. DCI Alex Warren and his team are given the challenging task of discovering his killer. They investigate the numerous people Stevenson has harmed, and their enquiries reveal a host of related crimes, motivated by sex and greed. They struggle to close the case before more lives are lost.
A fast moving, gripping novel set in the tough crime-ridden streets of Glasgow.
http://mybook.to/madeakilling
Ring Fenced
If you think your life's complicated, then spare a thought for Benjamin who obsessively juggles and controls his five independent personae, until …Ring Fenced is Zach Abrams first novel. A story about power, control and obsession
One man, five lives, ring-fenced and separated,
Bennie, loving husband and father,
Benjie, youngest son of orthodox Jewish parents,
Ben, successful corporate banker,
Benjamin, millionaire author and publisher of pornography
and Jamie, part-time lover of a beautiful musician.
Relying on his Blackberry to keep all his personae separate, his life is perfect.
But what if holes begin to appear in the divisions?
When a sequence of events throws his life into chaos, his separate words collide with explosive consequences.
[This book contains content of an adult nature with use of sexual swear words and depictions of sexual encounters. It is unsuitable for young readers and it may be offensive to some readers of all ages.]
Written to Death
Writing isn't usually considered a dangerous pursuit - but perhaps think again - Sheila Armstrong, a leading member of Eastfarm Writers' group is stabbed to death, on stage, in a school, while rehearsing. The death mimics the plot of the play they'd been rehearsing.
DCI Alex Warren and his girlfriend, DI Sandra McKinnon, return from a short holiday, but hardly manage to step from the plane before he's called to investigate the suspicious death.
Within hours, Sandra is roped into investigating a series of crimes which appear to be mob-related.
Both their enquiries run in parallel as they struggle to make progress while supporting each other professionally and emotionally.
Available at Amazon UK or Amazon US
SOURCE; A Fast-Paced Financial Crime Thriller
A novel investigating financial crime and sabotage within the banking sector
Tom is an accomplished journalist and lead features writer at Global Weekly's London office. He's an unhappily married workaholic seeking to advance his career.
Sally is single, ambitious and independent. Visiting from Australia, she's chasing the same story.
Each is eager to research alleged wrongdoings at Royal National Bank, exposed by a series of whistleblower revelations. RNB is one of the largest and strongest financial institutions in t
he world, or it was. There have been several incidents within a period of weeks. The effect has rocked the bank to its core, causing its share price to tumble and world stock markets to ripple. International economic stability is at risk.
Both Tom and Sally suspect something or someone must be behind it. It couldn't just be coincidence. They think it inconceivable for such rapid decline to result from merely incompetence and a series of blunders. It must be sabotage. Yet the timing and diversity of location make it improbable. Has someone been powerful and ingenious enough to mastermind such demise? If so who, and why?
Tom and Sally become reluctantly twinned in the investigation looking for the ”source' and their trail leads them from London to Glasgow, Manchester, Barcelona and Collioure.
They tread a dangerous path as Tom's life and wellbeing becomes imperilled by strange and cryptic warnings. Through this, Tom struggles to hold everything together. He's hoping to restore his crumbling marriage and uncertain personal finances, yet is distracted by an irresistible attraction to Sally.
They feel daunted by the prospect of an unknown enemy, who seems to have unlimited power and connections. With great fortitude, they tackle the most challenging investigation of their lives, facing threats and hostility countering their every move.