No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3

by C. J. Grayson

  ‘Shit,’ Dilton whispered.

  54

  Friday Morning

  Elton Road

  The man closed the door and looked down the hall, hoping to see Rachel in the kitchen, but the house was unusually silent. Usually Rachel had music on.

  ‘Rachel, you here? I’m back from Judo.’

  He took a few steps down the hall, then stopped, and looked upstairs. ‘Rach?’ He carried on down the hall and found something on the floor. ‘What the…’

  Dilton was against the wall in the dining room, close to the door, with a second needle in his hand.

  The man picked up the first needle on the floor. ‘What the fuck is this?’ he said. ‘Rachel, where on earth are you?’

  Dilton’s heart pumped quickly as he waited, hearing the footsteps approach. It would only be a matter of seconds. He had the element of surprise and would need to act quickly. As the side of the man’s face appeared Dilton threw himself through the threshold with the needle first, stabbing him in the chest, using his size to take him to the floor, then managed to inject the syringe into him. it took seconds for the injected liquid to take effect.

  Dilton gasped. ‘Jesus.’ He slowly got off him, feeling a rush of blood to his nose and temple where the man had struck him. He grabbed the man’s hands and dragged him into the dining room, placed his body next to Rachel’s.

  Rachel woke up first. She tried to move her arms but realised she couldn’t, then opened her eyes, seeing him in the chair opposite. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed, his body totally still.

  ‘Aaron?’ she whispered, not understanding what she was seeing. There was a strange smell in the air, like a cleaning smell, but she couldn’t remember cleaning. There was a slight draught too, but the French doors to her right were closed, the curtains were pulled across, leaving the room darker than it should have been.

  ‘Aaron? Aaron, wake up?’

  Feeling groggy and sick, she couldn’t remember what happened, her head spinning each time she blinked.

  Aaron was positioned on the chair facing her. There was a gap of two metres. Behind him, was the doorway to the hallway. His arms were tied to the chair with a thick rope and there were several loops of rope around his chest and stomach which seemed to go around the back of the chair. His legs were also tied together in several places.

  Then she noticed the tubes.

  ‘What the fuck?’ she said, frowning at her unresponsive boyfriend.

  In his forearm, there were several tubes connected to what looked like catheters. She followed the tubes down to the floor, along to a little metal block on the carpet. On the other side of the block, there was a rubber pipe, similar to a hosepipe, which ran a few feet to the left side of a mechanical pump. A tube from the back of the pump that went to a large, black plastic box. She couldn’t see what was inside.

  Then she noticed the hose connected to the right side of the pump which came down under the table, then towards her, to another metal block, which split off into smaller tubes. The smaller tubes went along the floor and up into two catheters that were fixed into her own forearms.

  She gasped. ‘What the fuck. Help me!’

  She wriggled and fought against the ropes but they were too tight.

  In her hand, which she hadn’t realised, was a small black box. It had a button on it. She stared at it, wondering what it was.

  ‘Roger!’ she whispered, recalling he was the last person she had seen. ‘Oh, God. What happened?’ She remembered walking into the kitchen to show him the back garden, then woke up here, tied to the chair with tubes sticking out of her arms.

  ‘What the fuck is this!’ she screamed, her anger filling the silent house.

  She looked around for Roger Carlton. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the writing on the wall to the left in a thick black marker pen. It covered most of it, nearly filling it from the ceiling to the floor.

  It read:

  Hello Rachel. I’m sorry things had to be this way, but you did this to yourself. You have sinned and it’s up to me to put things right, so you can’t harm again. As you may have noticed, there are tubes fixed to you. These tubes are connected to a mechanical pump which is connected to the large plastic tank over to your right. Inside the tank there is water. Just ordinary tap water, which isn’t very good for you, believe it or not. Every seven minutes, the pump will turn for a few seconds and will pump approximately half a litre of water into your body. Now, this doesn’t sound like much, but have you heard of water intoxication? Maybe you have. Maybe you haven’t. This is when the body gets too much water and causes it to break down and not function. If water intoxication is severe, you will die. Because too much water causes the sodium levels in your body to dilute, leaving the sodium lining on your cells vulnerable, allowing water to penetrate them. If this happens to your brain cells, let's just say it will swell and prevent the flow of blood and oxygen to your head. First you’ll get a headache, then you’ll feel sick, then be sick, and let’s just say the whole thing isn’t a pleasant experience. In your hand, you have a small remote. This remote, if you press the button, will turn on the pump, sending water into your boyfriend's body instead of yours. If you don’t press the button, then every seven minutes, half a litre will be pumped into both of your bodies until one of you die. And I can guarantee that will be you because he’s bigger, and it’ll take more water to kill him. Choose wisely. I’ll be watching. Roger.

  ‘What the fuck?’ she whispered, looking down at the tubes, pump, and plastic tank. ‘Is this a joke?’ She looked around the room and noticed the small white camera on the table facing them. There was a red light flashing every few seconds, indicating whatever it was, it was probably recording them.

  As she re-read the handwritten message on the wall, just before the last line, the pump to her right kicked in for a few seconds.

  ‘Shit! Shit!’

  She started shaking, feeling the liquid being pumped into her arm.

  Aaron jerked wide awake in the chair opposite, his eyes wide, looking around the dim room. ‘What the hell?’ he mumbled, trying to move his arms and body but realised he couldn’t. ‘Where is he – where—’

  He noticed Rachel in the opposite chair, tied up, with the tubes in her arms.

  ‘Rachel – what the fuck is going on?’ He clamped his eyes shut for a moment and tipped his head back. ‘My head is banging.’

  ‘Aaron, don’t panic.’

  ‘Don’t panic? What is this…’

  Rachel started to feel a headache coming on. According to the writing on the wall, it was the first sign of the body breaking down. She pressed the button in her right hand causing the pump to whirr. She held it for ten seconds.

  Aaron screamed, feeling the liquid enter his arms. ‘Ahhh, what is that?’ He tried to thrust forward but the ropes restricted any form of movement. ‘Rachel, I don’t feel well.’

  ‘Just hold on,’ she said, maintaining his eye contact, hoping he wouldn’t see the writing on the wall but it was so clear, it was impossible to miss. He looked to his right, started reading it. When he reached the bottom, he glared at Rachel, then down to the black box in her hand. ‘Rachel, why do you have that?’

  She focused on him with tears in her eyes, knowing there were a few minutes until the pump would rotate and inject water into her veins. Instead of replying, she pressed the button. The pump whirred on.

  ‘Rach – Rachel! Do not fucking press that button!’ he spat at her. ‘Don’t you dare… turn it off!’ He could feel the liquid pouring into his arm, filling his body slowly. It wasn’t long before he was sick all down his front.

  Rachel winced but held her finger on the button, the pump continuously going.

  His skin started turning white. ‘Rachel…’ His voice was weak now. Then he was sick again. ‘Rach – turn it off, please.’

  She didn’t want to do it but if it was a choice, she had to look after number one. If she didn’t press it, he’d survive longer, meaning h
e’d live. She had to press the button.

  He clamped his eyes shut and rocked his head back violently. ‘My head. Please…’

  Tears rolled down her face pressing the button again, holding her finger down onto it. She knew it was something she had to do and cried loudly, masking the wails of his pain.

  Nearly half an hour later, Aaron was still, his head cocked to one side, his eyes bloodshot, looking down at the floor. His almost albino-like white skin had swelled and bubbled. She finally let go of the remote and dropped it on the floor.

  Her head was banging from the emotions, tears, and crying. She sat still, without the energy to move, then angled her head to the writing, re-read the part where it said choose wisely. I’ll be watching.

  ‘Hello?’ she said, barely audible. ‘Roger…’

  After seven minutes had passed the pump kicked in for a few seconds. Her eyes widened, feeling more liquid injected into her body.

  She started screaming, realising this was a game neither of them would win.

  Two hours later, she was dead.

  55

  Friday Late Afternoon

  Police Station

  Tanzy was sat at his desk with Linda Fallows, who’d logged on to Byrd’s computer so they could be next to each other to save them shouting across the walkway. Fallows had been, for most of the day, looking over her old files from Essex Police concerning the murders that happened seven years ago, searching specifically for water and earth.

  Drowning and a burial.

  ‘I have a list of victims from seven years ago, Ori,’ she said, handing over a list she’d handwritten on some plain paper.

  At the top, it said ‘fire’, followed by three names. Norman Peters, Anna Peters, and James Peters. Man, wife, and child.

  Then below, it said ‘water’ and named a female who’d been held under the water in her bath to drown. Theresa Forgan.

  The third was ‘gas’ followed by a male victim who had been gassed out inside his car. Lewis Phillips.

  And lastly, ‘earth’, followed by another male victim who’d been buried in the woods. Donald Cramer.

  Tanzy’s eyes narrowed at the list. ‘Have you come up with – or did you at the time – a link between these people. Something they shared in common. Or was it random?’

  She took the list back to have a look. ‘I looked into every victim. Who they were. What they did as jobs. Their interests. But we couldn’t see a pattern. It frustrated us like nothing before. It seemed, from what I gathered, a random list of people. I looked at this list for months on end. It drove me insane. My Super, at the time, had talked about taking me off the case because it’s all I was doing. I’d stay up at night, thinking about it on a loop. I didn’t have an image of what the man looked like who we were chasing – Mackenzie Dilton. I remember making my own image of him up in my mind. Had dreams about being at home and hearing something come up behind me and when his hand grabbed my shoulder or I felt his breath on the back of my neck, I’d wake up in a sweat.’ She sighed and shook her head a little as if reliving the pain and effort she’d been through.

  ‘There must have been something which linked them?’ Tanzy picked up his coffee, took a sip, and placed it back down by his keyboard. ‘Someone doesn’t just go and kill six people on four different occasions.’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s the first killer to ever elude me.’

  ‘Do you think it was some type of ritual?’

  ‘The four elements?’ she said, frowning at him.

  He nodded.

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’ It was her turn to sip her coffee, then silence descended on them. The other end of the office was busy. DC Leonard was at his desk, speaking with someone on the phone. DS Stockdale was on the right-hand side, near the window, at his desk, looking down at something. Probably his phone, Tanzy thought. PC Weaver, Andrews, Timms, and Grearer were dotted about, tapping keyboards, and idly chatting, winding down for the weekend. Despite the recent happenings in Darlington, people were smiling more than usual, happy to be away from the office for the weekend. Leave the problems at work. Switch off, get some normality back in their lives.

  It wasn’t so easy for Tanzy and Byrd, especially Byrd. He never switched off. Ever since his sister was murdered all those years ago, he’d been reborn into something almost unstoppable. An asset to any team.

  ‘Where did Max go?’ Fallows asked, remembering he’d left a couple of hours ago.

  ‘He had to go home to see Claire. Make sure she’s alright.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Taking things easy.’

  ‘She needs to. Carrying the baby and all.’

  Tanzy agreed and stood. ‘Excuse me a minute.’

  Fallows nodded.

  Tanzy rounded the desks, and joined the central walkway, heading towards the opposite end. Passing team members sitting on either side, he nodded and smiled, but his focus was on the back wall, where DS Stockdale was sitting.

  ‘Phil?’

  Stockdale shuddered a little. ‘Jeez, boss. You scared me.’

  ‘Did you go to the addresses we had for the blue VW vans?’

  He swivelled towards Tanzy. ‘Yeah. Jim and I went. There was one on West Crescent owned by a man in his late sixties. Crazy about VWs. Told us how he’d owned them all his life. Said he’d had that one for three years. He showed us in the back. All kitted out with a bed, sink, and toilet. Looked really smart.’

  Tanzy wasn’t interested in how smart it looked, and Stockdale noticed that by his face.

  ‘Did you get a reg?’

  Stockdale picked up a sheet of paper from the desk. ‘There you go.’

  ‘Does everything check out? Owner. M.O.T. Tax?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s clean. Belongs to a Mr Simms. There’s eleven months M.O.T left and it’s taxed.’

  ‘Where did he say he was on Tuesday morning?’

  ‘Told us he and his wife had been to the Lake District. Been camping for a few days. Got back Wednesday night. His wife, after she heard someone at the door, came out to confirm it.’

  Tanzy said, ‘Okay. What about the other one?’

  Stockdale smiled. ‘Owned by a twenty-seven year-old, blonde haired female.’

  ‘Why you smiling?’ queried Tanzy.

  ‘Am I?’ He waved it away and looked serious again. ‘She bought it last year. Doesn’t use it very much. Bought it for more of a memento to her father who was obsessed with them. When he died, she thought she’d get one to remember him by. Think it’s kind of sweet.’

  ‘Yeah, very sweet, Phil.’ Tanzy wasn’t in the mood for jokes today. ‘There was a third one?’

  Stockdale nodded. ‘There was. We knocked on the door of a Mrs Anderson. A woman in her sixties answered. When we asked about the van, she started going crazy, asking why we hadn’t found it yet. Said it was stolen last week and she’s been on the phone to us, asking if we’d found it.’

  Tanzy scowled. ‘First I’ve heard about that one.’

  ‘I know. I told her the same. But said I’d look into it and update her with what we know.’

  Tanzy thought for a moment, thinking about why he or Stockdale wasn’t aware of her missing blue VW van, the likely van that had the body parts in on Tuesday morning.

  ‘Did you speak with Jennifer at the Town Hall?’ Stockdale asked, winking.

  ‘What’s with the wink?’

  ‘The wha…’

  ‘You winked at me when you said have I spoken with Jennifer at the Town Hall?’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Phil, you know you did.’

  The silence was so awkward that Stockdale said, ‘I heard from somewhere that you’re always the one who phones her or goes down to see her.’

  Tanzy frowned. ‘Meaning?’

  Stockdale shrugged. ‘No meaning, sir.’

  Tanzy sighed. He didn’t have time for games. ‘I need you to find that missing van, Phil. That’s what I want you to do. How’s that sound?’

  ‘Sounds good.’


  ‘Right. Get on with it then.’

  Stockdale bit his lip and focused back on his computer screen.

  Tanzy turned and went over to DC Leonard, who was tapping away on his keyboard. ‘Jim,’ Tanzy said, pulling the nearest seat out and sitting down. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Did Stockdale tell you about the missing van?’

  Tanzy said that he did.

  ‘I’ve been on to Jennifer at the Town Hall,’ Leonard said. ‘She said she’d have a good look for it and she’s input the registration plate into the system. If there’s a hit, she’ll get back to us.’

  ‘Good.’ Tanzy said nothing for a while.

  Leonard noticed his moment of silence. ‘Everything okay?’

  Tanzy narrowed his eyes, said quietly, ‘How’s Phil getting on?’ He pointed toward Stockdale who was sitting behind him.

  ‘How – how do you mean?’ Leonard leaned into him, making sure his voice was low.

  ‘I… don’t know. He’s not himself. He’s not as focused.’

  ‘Maybe having a tough time at home,’ added DC Cornty, who was sitting on the other side of Leonard. Tanzy leaned to his right to see beyond Leonard. ‘Heard he’s been on his phone a lot. Also, heard him talking to Donny about a bet he put on and nearly won but never.’

  ‘Okay. Where’s Donny?’

  ‘Canteen with Amy. One last coffee before we pack up for the weekend.’

  As Tanzy stood up, he saw Weaver dash towards him - without a coffee in her hand. Instead, she was holding her phone.

  ‘Where’s the coffee?’ Leonard complained, looking up at her with his palms out.

  Weaver ignored Leonard and focused on Tanzy. ‘Sir, you need to see this.’ She stopped next to him and showed him what was on her phone.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Another video has been uploaded by RCarl20.’

  They watched it on her phone.

  ‘Jesus,’ Tanzy said.

  56

  Friday Late Afternoon

  Police Station

  Tanzy had asked Weaver to send Leonard the website address. As Leonard opened it up, everyone stood behind, watching his computer, seeing the video on a bigger scale. The camera was positioned roughly a metre high off the floor, showing a man and a woman sitting on two chairs, facing each other. They were tied in several places. They were both non-responsive, both quiet and still.