ROAD TO NOWHERE : DCI MILLER 3: Another Manchester Crime Thriller With A Killer Twist

by Steven Suttie

  “Okay, thanks. Over.”

  Miller lifted himself up from the crouching position that he’d been in for the past minute, and stood upright, groaning at the aching pain in his leg joints as he did so.

  “Soz mate,” said Miller, to the young policeman as he ducked under the cordon tape again. The policeman just stared ahead, nonchalantly.

  Miller’s phone started ringing. It was Dixon.

  “Hello.” He said, looking up the road to try and see Dixon’s vehicle among the dozens of police cars and vans that were filling up the entire section of road.

  The two senior CID officers were soon inside the MCP Major Incident Vehicle, which had only just arrived from HQ. The two men were discussing the situation. Miller offered his opinion that Meyer was here for one reason only; to be killed by a police bullet.

  “But what sense does that make?” asked Dixon.

  “Sense? Come on Sir – nothing this guy has done makes sense! I can’t see why he’d suddenly start making sense now!”

  “Yes, but why endanger Knight’s wife? His problems aren’t of her making.” Dixon looked genuinely puzzled, and looked as though he really wanted to know the answers. Miller on the other hand was keen to end this without further ado.

  “I don’t know Sir. But you need to authorise Firearms to take him out.”

  “We can’t. You know that Andy. We can only shoot if there is a clear and present danger.”

  “Come on, Sir! He’s holding a knife to her fucking throat in there. It’s as clear a case as any I’ve ever seen. Shoot him in the shoulder.”

  “His shoulder is next to Rebecca’s face. The only place we can shoot him is in the head, and he knows that, that’s why he’s stood the way that he is. So we need a plan B.”

  “Seriously, Sir, I’ve seen him. He’s off his head, he’s completely lost the plot. He’s going to harm her – and you’ll be the person responsible.”

  Dixon stared intently at Miller. He didn’t appreciate that kind of emotional blackmail. But he had a strong response to it. “Well, it’s not my call. The Acting Chief Constable is on her way here now. She is Gold Commander for this incident. It’s her call Andy. So put the guilt-trip onto her.”

  *****

  “Well, it’s a very confusing situation that we are covering this evening. If you are just joining us, let us re-cap.” Sky News was attracting huge audience figures as news of the situation travelled quickly via social media and text message. Sadly for Sky, the police had moved quickly in emptying the nearby properties, and in doing so they had foiled the “community reporting” angle that Sky News had been capitalising on during the first moments of this major police incident.

  Now, the news channel was blind as to what was happening at the scene. But viewers would never have known that the broadcasters had no idea what was happening themselves. They just carried on reporting the same story over and over again. The newscaster kept repeating that the North of England Correspondent, Paul Mitchell was on his way, and was only moments away from the scene.

  But the fact of the matter was simple. Sky News, or any other media agency was not likely to get anywhere near this incident. The entire community was locked-down. The surrounding homes had all been cleared, and the neighbourhood was in near silence. The police had several armed officers with semi-automatic weapons pointed at the suspect’s head, while he was holding a very dangerous, very sharp looking knife at an innocent woman’s throat. There was absolutely nothing about this situation that would be allowed to be aired live on television.

  But even if they could show this, they would have a very difficult job in getting within half a mile of this place.

  *****

  “Okay, talk to me.” The Acting Chief Constable, Marie Clydesdale spoke as she stepped onto the Major Incident Vehicle. She looked fearful and anxious, as though she was stepping into the dentists for an extraction. She was pale and stressed, and Miller felt for her, as he realised what an awful start she was having in a role that was the very pinnacle of any police officer’s career. As a woman, too. It was an extraordinary achievement to rise through the ranks, to the very top job. But her first hours in the position had been hellish.

  Detective Chief Superintendent Dixon fed the info to the ACC. She was unsure of where to look as he spoke, and looked nervous and agitated. On the wall of the vehicle was a bank of video screens which were showing images of the front window. The camera angles were different in each monitor, they were fed from the armed officers various locations.

  “How long has he been stood there for?” asked ACC Clydesdale.

  “Almost ninety minutes, now.”

  “And what’s happening with the negotiator?”

  “He won’t negotiate.”

  “Won’t…?”

  “He won’t respond to anything. She’s shouted through the letterbox, she has held notes up at the window. The house phone is just ringing and ringing – there’s literally no response. Meyer is just standing there, waiting to be shot.”

  “Well, we can’t do that. No way.”

  “But Ma’am, one turn of that knife and Knight’s wife, sorry, Knight’s widow will be killed. We have to give her a chance.”

  “No. He won’t do it. Where’s his wife?” ACC Marie Clydesdale looked at both Dixon, and Miller, clearly expecting a faster reaction. They both just looked at one another, and looked back at the ACC with their mouths slightly open. “She is here, isn’t she?”

  “Well…” Dixon looked as though he was going to take the blame for missing this most obvious opportunity, but Miller stepped in.

  “On her way, ma’am. We had a bit of difficulty tracking her down but she’s on the way.” Miller had his poker face on. ACC Clydesdale saw straight through it.

  “Don’t lie to me, DCI Miller. Get on your phone and make the call. Get her over here, pronto! This should have been done first. Has the Negotiator not mentioned this?” The ACC didn’t look like she was messing, and Miller realised he’d just cocked up in spectacular fashion. “Well?” She was staring at him. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked up Melanie Meyer in his contacts, as Dixon looked on sheepishly.

  “Mel, hi, yes, it’s Detective Chief Inspector Andy Miller.” He began nodding, as Melanie began talking incessantly. “No, no, it’s okay, of course he hasn’t been harmed. How long? Good, good. Brilliant, okay, well, I’ll see you soon then.” Miller ended the call, and looked up at the ACC who was standing above the two men with her arms folded in a most intimidating display of hostile body language. “She’s nearly here, Ma’am. My colleague DI Saunders is driving her.”

  Dixon looked at Miller, wondering if he knew that he was the luckiest bastard detective that ever lived. Dixon would love to know how the hell Miller could count on Saunders to help him out of every shitty situation that he ever found himself in. But it would have to wait.

  “Okay get the negotiator in here, now, and technical support as well. I want the wife mic’ed up and standing at that window within seconds of arriving here.”

  “What’s her brief, Ma’am?” asked Miller.

  “Her brief is to go and tell her husband to put that fucking knife down.”

  *****

  “Right, so, you know what you’re doing, yes?”

  Melanie nodded at Miller. She was scared, no two ways about it. But she was excited, and revved up, ready to put this to an end, finally. Miller, Saunders and Dixon could all see the determination on Melanie Meyer’s face as she walked down the steep steps of the Major Incident Vehicle.

  “Good luck.” Said ACC Clydesdale, from the back of the vehicle. It was the first time that she had spoken to Melanie Meyer.

  “Thanks,” she said, nodding back, glad that the only woman present was wishing her well on this potentially deadly mission. Then her head disappeared out of the vehicle, as Mel stepped down off the final step, and onto the pavement. Miller followed.

  “Right, come on,” he said as he started walking briskly towards the cordo
n line, which was roughly about fifty yards further along the road. Mel was surprised by the sheer numbers of police that were in attendance. Miller was walking slightly ahead, instructing Mel as they strode. “The main thing you need to tell him, is that the courts will take Knight’s activities into consideration. But they won’t give him an inch if he harms Rebecca. Seriously, if he hurts her, its game over, he’s never getting out of jail. No way Jose. If he surrenders himself now, and comes in peacefully, he’ll get the maximum amount of kudos from the public, and he’ll be given sympathy and leniency in court.”

  “I know, I know what to say. We’ve been over it. I just want to see him, just want to see that he’s alright.”

  “Okay. Well, remember what we said. If he lets Rebecca go, and gives up the knife, we’ll leave you two alone for five minutes, as long as you stay in sight of the front window.”

  “Yes, I know. Believe me Andy, it’s my top priority.” Mel was starting to become tearful, so Miller decided to change the subject now. He couldn’t be doing with emotions when the stakes were this high.

  “Here, it’s getting a bit nippy now. Do you want to borrow my jacket?” he asked.

  “Nah, I’m fine. I’m not cold at all, I’m bloody burning up.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  Mel stopped walking, forcing Miller to stop too. They were still a good twenty yards away from the young PC who was still guarding the cordon line.

  “What choice have I got? It’s better that I go and try, than live the rest of my life not knowing whether I could have sorted it, or not. Look, I just want to go. Which house is it?”

  Miller started pointing, “after the phone box, it’s that fourth one down on the left. You can’t miss him, he’s stood right in the window. But just in case he’s moved from there, it’s number one six three.”

  “Right.” Mel turned to take a step forwards, then paused, turning back to Miller. “Shit. This is proper scary.” Mel took a deep breath. She hadn’t seen her husband since the night before he’d abducted Jason Knight. Shit, that was only four days ago, she thought. It felt like a month ago since all those coppers had burst into the house. No way was that only four days ago.

  “Go on. You’ll be right.” Miller shoved her shoulder gently, pushing her on her way. It made her smile a tiny bit.

  “Right. See you in a bit.” Mel exhaled loudly and a cloud of steam was created as her hot, anxious breath hit the cool night air. This was it.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Pete!” Mel Meyer was standing in front of the glass. She shouted her husband’s name so loudly, it echoed all around the still, silent neighbourhood.

  Peter Meyer opened his eyes. His chin began quivering, and his eyes filled with tears. His hand was shaking violently, and Rebecca Knight was just staring out of the window, directly at Mel. Her eyes were pleading. “Please help me,” she was saying, just by using her eyes.

  “Look at the state of you!” said Mel, loudly. She quickly realised that this was going to be a difficult conversation, shouting through the double-glazing unit. Pete Meyer was just staring at her. Tears were streaming down his face, falling down onto Rebecca’s scalp. He was just staring at her, and the tears kept coming, falling freely.

  “Can’t believe you did that. To me!” he shouted through the glass. He left his mouth hanging open. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ill. Mentally ill. Mel had never seen her husband, her best mate, looking so upset. He was angry, and he was scared. But more than anything, he was ill. There was no mistake about it.

  “Pete! It’s not like that. Don’t you know?” Mel was shouting back through the glass, and she was beginning to think that Pete was the only person left in Britain that didn’t know about “Sergeant Knightmare.”

  “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” shouted Peter Meyer. His eyes were poking out of his head, as a fresh trail of snot ran down his face. “Just fucking don’t, Mel!” He let go of Rebecca’s hair to wipe his face with his wrist.

  “Let me in,” said Mel. She said it quietly, just loud enough to be heard through the glass.

  “What for? Why would I want to see you – after what you did? Eh? Jesus Mel. How the FUCK could you do that? To me?” The tears were bursting out of his eyes, a none-stop stream of hot, stingy, sad tears. Peter Meyer had never expressed emotion like this before, and it was breaking Mel’s heart to see her man in such pain. To see her man feeling such colossal grief and hurt.

  “Let me in, love. Come on. I love you Pete, you know

  that. Come on, let me in. Don’t be a silly billy.”

  “Mel, I’m not being a fucking silly billy. Don’t try and say things that will make it sound stupid. That’s out of order. It’s not a fucking joke Mel!”

  “I’m sorry. But I love you, mate. Let me in.”

  “No, I’m not doing. You’re just going to blag me. Fill my head with shit. Well, no, I’m staying right here until one of them police shoot me.”

  Rebecca Knight wriggled. It wasn’t intentional. It was just a natural jolt, a muscle spasm at the thought of bullets smashing in through the window, aimed at the man who was holding a knife to her throat. But Pete Meyer didn’t even move a muscle. It was as though he hadn’t even noticed that his hostage had just moved, quite violently. Peter Meyer was just shaking his head, staring out at Mel, his wife, just ten feet away, on the other side of that window.

  Outside, Mel had taken a few steps towards the window. She held her hands up, resting her palms against the glass. The tears were flooding out of Mel too, as the married couple stood, sobbing, looking into each others sad, gutted, broken-hearted eyes.

  Rebecca Knight realised that her captor was on the edge of an emotional breakdown, and she wanted to capitalise on the opportunity. As Peter Meyer was mouthing the words “Why, Mel, why?” over and over, Rebecca lifted her hands slowly, up to Peter’s hand, up towards the knife that was pressed flat against her throat. She pulled it away a few inches and gasped for air. Rebecca’s throat had dried out, she’d been too scared to even swallow.

  “Aaah God!” she said, as she filled her lungs with oxygen. She took a big, deep breath. Pete realised that he’d released his grip on Rebecca’s hair, and grabbed it again, taking a fistful of her hair. But the knife was still a few inches away from her throat. He was just holding it in mid air, in front of her face. It was still scary, Rebecca was still terrified, but the fact that the knife wasn’t pushed against her throat gave her a sense of optimism that she hadn’t felt since this horror show had started almost two hours earlier.

  “Come on Pete!” Mel was still trying to get inside. “I’m freezing out here. Let’s talk proper.”

  “There’s nowt to say Mel. You did it – you did what you said you’d never do. You went off with him! You did! You’re a fucking cunt Mel. You’re a cunt for doing that!” Pete was shouting, and he was getting worked up, and a fresh surge of tears began welling up in his burning, stinging, puffy red-raw eyes. “I can’t hack it!” he shouted. “I can’t handle it Mel!”

  “You don’t know, do you?” said Rebecca Knight. Her voice was croaky, and dry, but Pete understood what she was saying.

  “You what?” he asked, letting go of her and wiping once again at his face. The knife was down at his side now, and he’d let go of Rebecca’s hair again.

  At that precise second, two bullets came in through the living room window, hitting Peter Meyer in the chest and the shoulder. He fell straight to the floor, still clutching the knife in his hand. There was a very brief moment of still, a second or two of complete silence. But then all hell broke loose.

  Mel was outside, screaming, unsure of what had happened inside the house. She had no idea what was going on, it was impossible to see inside because the window had shattered, leaving a crystallised window pane made up of millions of splinters and shards of glass, all held together and intact but for two tiny holes that had been made by the bullets. Mel’s hands had been pressed against that glass, she was looking i
nto Pete’s eyes, and then, bang, it had all just exploded in her face., turned into a giant icicle.

  Rebecca Knight appeared at the front door within seconds. The look of pure terror was gone from her face, now she just looked exhausted and upset.

  “What’s…is he alright?” screamed Melanie Meyer, she was begging Rebecca Knight to tell her as she ran towards the house. Suddenly, there was lots of noise, lots of people were running around, police men were sprinting across the gravel driveway, and into the house.

  “POLICE!”

  “Armed police!”

  People were running around everywhere, shouting, it was crazy, and Mel couldn’t work out what was happening. Three police officers appeared from nowhere and grabbed Melanie Meyer, dragging her away from the house. She’d been just near the front door, about to step inside when she was literally whisked off her feet, dragged backwards and removed from the scene, kicking and screaming, punching and scratching. All hell was breaking loose as two ambulance men ran into the house. Other police were comforting Rebecca, talking to her, wrapping her in blankets. Telling her that everything was okay. The blue lights were still revolving all around as Mel was still being dragged away from the house.

  “Pete! PETE!” she screamed, as more police officers assisted with the job of getting the distraught wife away from the scene. She was being pulled away.

  “PETE!” She screamed, at the top of her lungs, as she wrestled with the police officers that were carrying her away, carting her off while she watched all of the activity at the house. She was being forcefully removed, not knowing what was going on.

  Not knowing if Pete was alright.

  Not knowing if Pete was alive or dead.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  “Online, on digital and on eighty-eight to ninety one fm, this is BBC Radio Two. It’s seven o’clock, and here’s Moira with the breakfast news.”

  “Good morning. The Manchester Man Hunt ended in dramatic fashion last night, when Peter Meyer, the man that police had been hunting in connection to the murder of Sergeant Jason Knight, was arrested, inside the home of the man that he is accused of killing. Paula Lawrence is in Bolton, and has this report.”