Chapter Twenty-four
19th June, 1615 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland
‘I swear I’m going nuts being cooped up in here. I can’t do this anymore.’ Ben was on the phone to Cass and felt the need to vent.
‘Listen to me, you need to stay there. Grace and Aoife are safe, and you need to be too. You can’t go about your normal daily duties until this nut job is caught, do you understand me? This guy is dangerous, Ben. The last thing anyone wants is for him to get his mitts on you because you were too damn stubborn to listen to advice. I’m coming over tonight. Me and Alex, we’ll bring Isobel.’
‘No! You can’t bring the baby here. Hell, you can’t even come here, Cass. If this monster is watching and sees you guys, he might decide to hurt you, too. You’ve been through enough.’
‘But I’m worried about you. I know how hard it was for you to tell me everything that happened. This guy is gunning for you. I need to know you’re safe.’
‘Look, I promise I will not go back to work or even leave the house without a cop with me. But there’s nothing in the fridge for a start, I need to go get some food. And I haven’t seen Grace in two days. I’m honestly going stir crazy in here. How long does it take for Ali to catch this guy?’
‘Alex has said he’s going back to work to help. Jacob’s team are working on all the digital angles and Kevin has all the other stuff under control. All you need to do is stay safe so that beautiful little girl keeps her mum. I know it’s not easy, but I know first-hand what happens when someone bad gets their mucky mitts on you. You’re my friend, Ben. I don’t want anything to happen to you.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll stay inside.’ Ben said the words but she still wasn’t quite sure she believed them herself yet. Saying her goodbyes, she hung up the phone.
Jacob had been listening from the kitchen table. ‘She’s right you know. You should stay inside. But I know what you mean, it’s tough. Why don’t I phone Ali and say we’re both going out, me and you? I’ll drive us to Asda, we can have a wander, get the bits you need and maybe have a coffee in the café You can ring Grace. At least it’s a slip of normalcy? And nothing would happen in a crowded supermarket.’
Ben walked over and put her arms around his neck from behind. He kissed her forearm and placed his hand over her arm. They stood for a moment, and when Ben released him, he grabbed his mobile and spoke to Ali. It took some persuading, but eventually he agreed. The cops would stay outside the home, and Jacob had to check back in as soon as they returned. But they had permission to go out. It felt oddly liberating. Like a couple of school kids flouting the rules they jumped into Jacob’s car and drove off.
19th June, 1905 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland
The trip to Asda had been worthwhile.
Ben had put the shepherd’s pie in the oven and was heading down the hall to the stairs when a loud bang came from upstairs. She heard Jacob cry out in pain, and realised he had hurt himself.
She took the stairs two at a time, and slammed open the door to the bathroom. ‘Jacob, you OK?’
He was sprawled in the bath, his face contorted in pain.
‘Slipped,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘If I help you, can you get up do you think?’
He nodded and Ben moved to the side of the bath. He grunted as he pulled himself up, using the wall behind him to support for his weight.
Ben stood sideways, bending her knees slightly, as he leaned on her shoulder and gingerly manoeuvred his bad leg over the edge of the bath and onto the floor. He grunted again as his leg took his weight momentarily while he got his other leg out. His face was still twisted in a grimace, and Ben knew it was bad.
She helped him hobble to the bedroom, grabbing his stick from where it rested by the sink as she passed. As Jacob lowered himself onto the bed, she left his side and grabbed his wash bag. He kept his tablets there – she knew as she’d seen him take them that morning.
‘I’ll need the oramorph.’
She opened the child-proof top and handed him the bottle, watching as he took an unmeasured swig.
After a couple of minutes, the look on his face eased.
‘I’m sorry. I slipped on some soap and went down like a ton of bricks. It’ll ease off in a couple of minutes. I owe you a shower rail.’
‘Don’t worry about the rail – we needed a new one anyway. You just gunna sit here for a bit `til the drugs kick in? I can help you downstairs if you like.’
‘No, I’m good. I’ll get dressed in a sec and meet you downstairs. Honest, I’ll be fine, it’ll ease off.’
Ben nodded. She knew how embarrassed he must feel right now, he didn’t need to be but she’d be the same in his situation. She leaned across him and kissed him gently on the lips before leaving the room.
19th June, 2005 hours –Tunstall, Sunderland City Centre
Stan could barely contain his anger. Why the hell hadn’t he placed a camera or mic in the kitchen? The pair seemed to spend more time in there than anywhere else and he was missing conversations that could have been important. He considered going back to the address in his disguise, but discarded the idea as soon as it occurred. It wouldn’t be long now anyway. And what information could have possibly been that vital that he needed to hear it?
He knew he couldn’t wait much longer, though. She filled his every waking thought. His dreams were filled with images of him having her again and again, teaching her she shouldn’t have lived because she couldn’t obey. Even if she did obey this time, he knew she was dead. There was no way he’d make the same mistake twice.
The news had been full of Clarice’s murder for days, but now it was petering out to the third and fourth pages in the papers. More important matters were taking the front page like a politician’s latest indiscretion, and another Hollywood star dying of an overdose. All just crap really, nothing that interested him. He grabbed the Echo and scanned it, noting nothing new.
He felt frustrated; at least he thought it was frustration. He couldn’t focus on anything but her, felt the need growing inside him. He couldn’t wait a few more days. Stan knew he had to do it tonight. Then it would be time to move to another city, take yet another name and start over again. He’d done it so many times now he could barely remember his own name.
Maybe it’s time to stop, retire. Learn to garden or something. But he knew he’d miss the hunt too much, miss the taste of their fear as they learned what they should already know about their place. He knew he couldn’t stop.
Jumping to his feet suddenly, Stan cracked his leg off the edge of the table. It stung but it also felt good, made him feel alive. Without even thinking, he grabbed the metal ruler from his pen holder, and smacked himself hard across the back of the hand. As it smarted and changed colour, he smiled. Yes he was still alive, and tonight would prove just how alive he felt. He would have her again, and he would eliminate the cripple that had tried to claim her. Today would be a good day.
Chapter Twenty-five
20th June, 0100 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland
Stan was more than ready for this. He’d checked on the cops waiting outside; one was old, maybe in his late forties and had the stomach to prove he was one for the clichéd doughnuts. He wouldn’t be any trouble at all. The other cop was younger, stronger. He was the one to watch. Setting his panicked face in place, he ran up behind the car and rapped on the window.
‘Help,’ he rasped as the older cop cracked open the door. ‘There was a man with a knife, he’s just attacked me and nicked my wallet. I thought I was going to die.’
His story had the required effect and both cops jumped out of the car.
‘Which way?’ asked the younger one.
‘He ducked into a garden round the corner, if you’re quiet he won’t hear you coming. He’s got my phone, too. Tall lad, about thirty, with bald head and tattoos on his neck.’
The younger cop ran round the corner, and the older one leant into
the vehicle to retrieve something. With the officers back turned, Stan knew this was the perfect time to strike. He pulled the shiny blade from the back of his trousers, and in one movement reached around the cop and drew the blade across his throat.
The cop fell forward, a gurgling sound coming from his neck as he put his hands to his throat. Stan was pleased. The cop’s body was pretty much all in the car. Hoisting his legs in too, he closed the door with a quiet click, standing back and watching as the cop stopped grabbing at his throat and his eyes turned glassy and still. And then he waited for the other one to come back.
A few minutes later, the young lad made his way back up the street. Stan had hidden himself behind a hedge near the back of the car, wanting to surprise the cop before he got to the car and called for help. He knew the cop might have already called his communications department, but it was unlikely. With adrenaline pumping, it wouldn’t have been the first thought in his head.
The cop strode past him, looking around for his colleague and Stan. In an equally swift movement, Stan had sliced through his throat like it was nothing more than butter and watched as the cop fell to his knees. He grabbed the back door of the panda and opened it, pulled the cop to his feet and bundled him into the back seat.
The cop was getting weaker by the second, but he made an attempt to reach his radio. If he could just press the orange button help would come. Stan leaned in and twisted it, removing it from the top of the cops vest. He threw it into the front of the car, and stood back with a smile.
‘Sorry, son, bad day to be a cop.’
Resignation passed over the cops face, and the last speck of light faded from his eyes as he slipped into oblivion.
Stan closed the door with a click, there was nothing he could do about the blood on the pavement or the car, but it was late and it was the middle of the week. All he could do was hope no one walked past.
He retrieved his bag from the garden he’d left it in and made his way round the corner to the old woman’s house. He knew the route now and went to the rear of the garden, nimbly jumping the fence. Ensuring he was hidden behind the rhododendron bush, he lit up his tablet and prepared his software.
Once he was satisfied, he made his way to the kitchen window. It was old and the putty had already been crumbling. Over the last week he had been picking at it slowly and now the window was barely held in place. It would be quick and easy to remove completely.
The alarm was motion sensitive, but the panel was in the kitchen while the motion sensors were in the hall, living room and at the top of the stairs. It wouldn’t have a chance to pick him up as he’d have it deactivated before he entered one of the hot zones.
He double-checked the video feed from the camera in the bedroom, and saw that both Ben and Jacob were sound asleep.
Anger pulsed through him as he put his tablet away. With gloved hands, he carefully pulled the window from its frame and set it down on the ground nearby. Stealthily, he climbed up and silently moved the items from the windowsill.
He stepped onto the edge of the sink and lowered himself into the kitchen. Checking his tablet again, he was confident they had heard nothing. He pulled the fascia from the alarm and worked to wire it to his tablet. The code sequencer started whizzing through numbers and within a couple of minutes the code was displayed. He held his breath as he punched in the numbers on the alarm keypad, and watched as the light turned from red to green.
Packing his tablet away, he pulled out two sets of cable ties and a hammer. He needed to incapacitate the cripple first, he wanted Jacob to live as he taught Bree her lessons, watch and see the cost of trying to steal her away. Once he’d taught her he would kill her in front of her lover. She would be easy to control too, all he would have to do is hurt the cripple on occasion and she would do anything he wanted. Navigating the stairs with ease, he paused at the bedroom door and stood, just watching the pair sleep for a moment. I wonder why she obeys him when she didn’t obey me. I’ll make her obey me.
He entered the bedroom and raised the hammer above his head. It crashed down onto Jacob's skull without waking him. Blood started to dribble across his face and on to the pillow. Stan grabbed his hands and secured them with cable ties. He’d get control of Ben then come back and rouse Jacob.
Silently he made his way around the bed and looked at Ben. Her red hair was spread around her head, almost like a halo but he knew she wasn’t an angel. He felt the anger ebb back to a controlled rage - it was definitely time for the lessons to begin.
20th June, 0115 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland
Ben lay still under the duvet, her eyes closed. She had no idea what had woken her but her senses were on overdrive. Her skin prickled with fear and she almost felt frozen to the spot. She wanted to open her eyes, she really did, but she was petrified of what she would see. She felt Jacob beside her, felt his warmth, but still she couldn’t open her eyes. It was like one of those waking dreams that people have, her mind was wide awake, screaming even, but her body wouldn’t respond.
Forcing herself, she opened her eyes.
As her vision adjusted to the darkness, she moved her eyes round the room. Jacob was facing the other way, but he seemed deep asleep, his breathing steady. She spanned the room in a few seconds and let out the breath that she hadn’t even realised she was holding. Stupid bugger, there’s nothing there. It’s just your mind playing tricks.
Deciding now she was awake she might as well go for a wee, she stood and padded over the landing to the bathroom. Her heart was still pounding and she felt uneasy, but she pushed the feeling to one side. Plainly she’d been having a nightmare and had felt the effects when she woke up. She felt a shiver pass down her spine; it seemed chilly for the time of year. Ben flushed and pulled open the bathroom door to head back to the bedroom.
As she walked out of the room, she felt sudden certainty that she wasn’t alone. Spinning round towards the stairs, she found herself face-to-face with him. Fear clawed at her insides, all her training flew out of the window and she felt a whimper escape.
He was really there. He had found her and somehow gotten into her house. She backed away, a tear winding its way down her cheek.
‘Hello, Bree. I’ve been watching you.’
Finding herself at the entrance to the bedroom, she turned and ran to the bed.
‘Jacob, please, baby, wake up! He’s here, Jacob!’ her voice rose a few octaves higher as she shook his shoulders.
‘Pull the duvet down,’ said Stan from behind her, his voice completely even and calm.
Ben felt dread replace fear, albeit temporarily. She pulled the duvet down and saw the streaks of red across Jacob’s face. Panic was threatening to overwhelm her but somehow she kept a grip on reality. She placed a hand in front of his face, and felt the soft whisper of his breath on her skin. Thank God, he’s not dead. What the fuck am I going to do?
She turned to face her nemesis, trying so hard not to show fear, but she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Her mind flashed back to the field when he’d tricked her, she recalled every little thing he’d done to her in the blink of an eye, and slowly she remembered something else.
Grace. I’m so glad she went away. She’ll never know about this. Ben felt a sudden rush of determination. Who the hell does this guy think he is, breaking into my house, hurting Jacob?
Stan saw the change in her. Her body language changed from terrified to more confident in the space of a few seconds. It threw him. He needed her to be afraid, she had to be afraid or she wouldn’t learn. He needed to get that back.
As he took a step towards her, he heard Jacob groan loudly. Damn it, he was supposed to be out longer than this.
Ben half turned and touched Jacob’s face softly, and Stan took advantage of her distraction. He crossed the space to the bed in a flash and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her hard towards the door.
She couldn’t help but let out a loud scream as her hands instinctively moved to his and she grabbed them, trying
not to let him pull her, but she had no choice. He had complete control of her movements and he dragged her out onto the landing. Turning suddenly, he slammed his other fist into the side of her face with such force that she saw stars instantly. Her knees gave, and he let her fall, releasing her hair. Working now, he pulled the cable ties from his pocket and secured her hands together. Then he ripped a piece of silver gaffer tape off the roll and placed it over her mouth.
Leaning down to her ear, he said, ‘don’t worry, I’ll take it off later. That pretty mouth was made to take a real man, not some cripple who didn’t even wake up when someone broke into the house.’
Stan was lucky, he didn’t know it, but usually Jacob would have woken at a mouse crossing the floor. The pain killers he’d taken earlier though were strong enough to keep him asleep.
Chapter Twenty-six
20th June, 0120 hours – McKay residence, Sunderland
Ali had finished work hours ago, been for a run and grabbed a takeout on his way back to the flat. He now sat on the couch flicking through the channels on the TV but nothing grabbed his eye. The run and takeout food had done nothing for the gnawing stress monster in his gut, it had been growing since he’d left Clarice’s home earlier, and whatever was causing it was just on the verge of his thoughts. He knew whatever it was would be important and it had been bugging him all day that he couldn’t see it.
Flicking through the movie channels, he found a classic Stallone movie and put the remote on the table in front of him, pulling his legs up to the couch and settling his head on a cushion. He barely even saw five minutes of the movie before he was sound asleep.
He awoke some time later, disorientated and with his neck aching. Light filtered through the window from the street lights outside and somewhere in the distance a siren wailed. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Reaching for his phone he checked the time, the illuminated screen told him it was twenty to two and he groaned again. Wish I hadn’t seen that.
I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series Page 27