Hero series Box Set

by M A Comley

  “Me? I’ve gotta take over Jez’s job?”

  “Yep, you. Not scared of a few slags, are ya?”

  Stuart reclined on the sofa in his brother’s flat to contemplate his response for a second or two. His brother had never bestowed any kind of responsibility on his shoulders before. He sat upright and puffed out his chest. “All right, I’ll do it.”

  Crabbie grinned at him, and his eyebrows rose high into his forehead. “Like you had a choice in the matter. We’ll both go out tonight. I’ll show you the ropes. Maybe we’ll get a free fuck while we’re out there.”

  Chapter 22

  She had set the alarm for eight p.m. just in case she fell asleep again, but she needn’t have bothered. She’d been too busy running yet another plan through her mind. Smiling, she jumped off the bed and opened her wardrobe door. High up, above her head, the corner of the box she was after peeked over the ledge. Standing on her tiptoes like a ballerina, she pushed boxes out of the way and tried to reach the one she wanted. After failing, she picked up one of her stilettos, squeezed the five-inch heel under the box, and pulled it to the edge of the shelf. She opened the box and removed the small knick-knacks concealing the metal object she needed for her evening vigil.

  Letting out a heavy breath, she lovingly caressed the gun. It had been her father’s. He used to take her out into the woods when she was a teenager and teach her how to use it. Several hundred cans later, he had pronounced her a very competent markswoman. The fact that she hadn’t practised or even held the gun in years didn’t deter her in the slightest. Firing a gun is like riding a bike, isn’t it? She placed the bullets in the barrel and spun it. Then she tucked the gun in her handbag and set to work on making herself look irresistible, in preparation for her quest to attract a certain young man.

  She studied the various coloured wigs she owned and decided that she wanted to be a brunette. After showering herself in numerous smelly products, she dressed in a mid-thigh red skirt and flimsy pink blouse. Underneath the blouse, she wore a matching pink T-shirt, which would act as another barricade for any wannabe groper to get past. She positioned her wig and sat down at the dressing table to plaster her face with the garish makeup she knew would attract her next target. Her tactics had worked thus far, so she didn’t see any need to change them.

  She took one last look at the clock, which read five minutes to nine, before giving herself a final once-over in the mirror, then she walked out the front door to wait on the corner for her taxi to arrive. Feeling the weight of the gun in her purse made the blood pump around her system faster and harder.

  The taxi pulled up in front of her, she gave him the address, and they set off to a location she hadn’t visited before.

  The convoy of vehicles left the station and split up at the end of the road. Hero turned to Julie. “Let’s hope we can nail this girl this evening.”

  “If it is the girl doing all these murders.”

  “What? You have your doubts about that?”

  Julie stared ahead at the road. “All good coppers work on instinct, don’t they? Mine’s saying that something isn’t adding up.”

  Hero remained silent. He’d had the same instinct himself only last week, but this week, things seemed to be slotting into place and highlighting the woman as the murderer they were after. The thing still puzzling him was the fact that he was at a loss as to her motivations—not that he thought one was necessary for knocking off the Krull Gang.

  They pulled up behind a people carrier. From Julie’s side, she had a perfect view of the prostitutes working the area, while Hero’s vantage point took in several roads leading to the girls’ positions. He picked up the radio and contacted the other members of the team, who were, by then, also at their allocated posts.

  They sat there for the next hour or so until the radio sparked into life again. “Foxtrot zero one, are you reading me?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Sir, we’ve been watching a girl for the past half an hour. She’s been loitering on the corner, observing the prostitutes in this area. We weren’t sure if it was her or not. She’s dyed her hair, or it could be a wig.”

  “Keep her under surveillance, Foxy. We’re on our way now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hero started the car and rammed it into first gear. “Here we go, Shaw. Hold on tight.”

  Julie hit the button and set the siren going.

  “Turn it off when we get to within a few streets of where the girl is, okay?”

  “Of course,” Julie replied, giving him one of her dirty looks.

  He grinned and put his foot down. The radio crackled to life again, and he eased off the pedal, listening as Julie answered the call.

  “Sir, a car has approached the girl. Two men inside the car. Do we hold off or intervene?”

  “Does it look as though she’s going to get in the car, Foxy?” Hero shouted as his partner pressed down the button.

  Foxy’s excited voice filled the car. “Yes, sir, she’s getting in it now. What do you want us to do?”

  “Hold off and follow. We’re two minutes away. Keep us up to date with the route they take, okay?”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Hero pressed down harder on the accelerator, so hard that both of them jerked back in their seats. “Kill the siren, Julie.”

  Hero listened to the directions Foxy was giving them and made the appropriate alterations to their route. His heart started pounding against his ribs. The killer was within striking distance, he hoped.

  “Sir, they’ve pulled into a hotel car park, the Chance Hotel. The three of them are entering the building. What do you want us to do?”

  “Hold back. We’re two streets away. We’ll go in as a team. Instruct the others of your position, Foxy,” he shouted over the noise of the engine, which was going at nearly full speed. Then muttered under his breath, “Let’s hope it’s not the Last Chance Hotel for the two men, eh?”

  Moments later, Hero drove into a parking space, then he and Julie raced out of the car to join up with Foxy and Powell. “Let’s go. Are the others en route?”

  “Yes, sir, they just checked in, they’re a few minutes away.”

  “Right. Powell, you wait out here for the others. We’ll ask reception what room they’re in.”

  Hero led the way. The hotel receptionist seemed surprised to see them. The man eyed them with a look that matched his seedy hotel, obviously thinking it was a night for threesomes.

  Hero flashed his warrant card. “What room are they in?”

  The man frowned. “Who?”

  “Like you’re that busy. The three who just arrived.”

  “Oh, Room Ten. Second floor, at the end. Hey, I don’t want no grief. What they been up to?”

  “Don’t warn them, or I’ll close this place quicker than a fly can shit on your pizza.” Hero clicked his fingers to emphasise his point.

  The three of them ran up the stairs. At the top, they could hear raised voices. Hero held his finger up to his mouth and cautiously led the way down the corridor to Room Ten. The voices were all male. He couldn’t hear the girl saying anything at all.

  “Mess with me, and I’ll fuckin’ kill ya. Untie me, bitch,” one man’s raised voice said.

  Hero listened with his ear pressed against the door, he heard scuffling and lots of cussing coming from inside. He shot across the other side of the hallway when he heard a gun go off inside the room.

  “Jesus, call for backup, an ART unit, Shaw.”

  Julie punched in the number and gave the person on dispatch their whereabouts, then asked for immediate assistance.

  “I’m going in,” Hero told his team. He turned sideways and shouldered open the door. He barged into the room, hoping the surprise would momentarily disarm the occupants.

  The woman was standing alongside Paul Crabtree, the gang leader; his hands were tied behind his back, around the chair he was sitting in. Stuart, his brother, was lying in a heap on the round jazzy-coloured rug next to t
he bed.

  “Jesus! Put the gun down. Let’s talk about this calmly.”

  “Get out of here. My gripe’s with this fucker, not with you lot. Although if you’d done your job properly, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

  Frowning, Hero remained rooted to the spot. “What do you mean? I know they’ve been up to no good. Hand him over, and I’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him. Why end up in prison because of him?”

  The woman turned her face away from him. Her hand shook as she held the gun to Crabbie’s temple. He was trembling, and tears started to slide down his face as he gawped at his brother’s lifeless body.

  “You’ve had every opportunity to round these buggers up since it happened. Instead, you’ve let them carry on tormenting innocent people, killing them to satisfy their sick enjoyment. I’ve had to step in and do your job for you. I won’t let them continue the way they are. I won’t allow them to destroy any more lives.”

  Before Hero could move towards her, she pulled the trigger. Crabtree’s brain tissue covered the walls and ceiling. Stunned, he simply stared at the woman, who was looking down at both the men, her eyes wrinkled in disgust.

  Hero took a step forward, but the woman’s hand rose up to her head. She placed the barrel of the gun between her eyes. “Keep back, or I’ll shoot.”

  “Why? Why take revenge like this? What did the gang do to you? Did they rape you?”

  “If only it were that simple. They stole my life, robbed me of my family, and left me with nothing except a huge whole in my heart. No one will miss them. I’ve done you a big favour, haven’t I?”

  She had, but Hero wasn’t about to admit that. “Put the gun down. I’ll speak up for you. Tell the court it was self-defence.”

  “It was self-preservation. Not that any of that matters now.”

  Hero had the time to neither take her words in nor even blink before she pulled the trigger. Her own brain matter joined Crabbie’s on the wall. As she slumped to the ground, her wig slipped off.

  Hero shook his head when he realised who the killer was.

  Julie and Foxy came in the room and stood beside him.

  Julie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God!”

  She voiced exactly what Hero had been thinking as they stared down at Rupert Hartley’s corpse.

  Epilogue

  Hero welcomed his guests and ensured that each of them had either a refreshing Pimms or a beer. Fay was busy ferrying the side dishes out to the fifteen-foot table Hero and his father had erected that morning out of trestle tables.

  Cara had insisted that Hero should mingle with his guests and ordered him to leave Marc and her in charge of cooking the meat on the barbecue.

  Everything was running smoothly. Even the weather had been obliging. But Hero feared the blistering heat of the midday sun was bound to be too much for his ageing parents to contend with after an hour or so.

  Hero topped up his guests’ Pimms from the jug as he worked the crowd. Susan had finally graced one of their barbecues after years of turning down numerous invitations. “Glad you could make it, Susan.”

  “How are you holding up, Patch?”

  “I must admit, it has been a bit of a shock the last few days. You know, since Rupert’s death. We’re still trying to figure out why. Of course, we know what was behind his anger, but I can’t say I’ve seen many victims’ families driven to vigilantism before.”

  “He loved them,” Susan uttered the three simple words.

  Hero nodded as another of his guests joined them. “Susan Rendell, this is Investigative Journalist Dave Wheeler, a close friend of Rupert’s.”

  The pair shook hands. “I’m sorry for your loss, Dave.”

  “Thanks. Rupert was one of a kind. I was so wrapped up in work that I neglected him in his hour of need.” Wheeler shook his head as tears moistened his eyes.

  “Hey, you can’t blame yourself, Dave.” Hero squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t think any of us realised how lost he was after Saskia and Laurence died. Like he told me, they were his world. To love two people as intensely as that, only to see them laid out in a mortuary, must have torn his insides to shreds. I can totally understand why he set out to do what he did to the Krull Gang. I’m not sure I would have gone to such lengths if it was my family they wiped out. Who knows what any of us would have done in the same circumstances.” His gaze drifted across the crowd and landed on Fay, who had finished filling the table and was sitting in a chair and cuddling Louie. He smiled and shuddered away the thought of being stripped of their love the way Rupert had been stripped of his family’s.

  “I carried out the post mortem on Rupert yesterday. He wasn’t suffering from any illnesses, except from a broken heart maybe. No one could have known he would go to such lengths in the name of love. His funeral is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

  Hero and Dave both nodded. Then Dave said, “Yes, maybe he’ll find peace and joy once he’s reunited with Saskia and Laurence.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Hero said. He looked over to see his sister beckoning him. “Excuse me a moment, will you?”

  He left his two guests and went over to the smoking barbecue. “What’s up, Sis? Burnt the sausages again?”

  His joke earned him a dig in the ribs. “Cheeky git! I wondered if you could spare me half an hour later.”

  “What for?”

  She looked him in the eye and whispered, “To go through my application form with me.”

  “For the police force?”

  “Yep.”

  Hero leaned in. “I hear the physicals are a little tough. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  She dug his ribs again, this time with her pointed finger. “Of course I’m up to it. It’s just a shame they don’t carry out physicals every year. I think you’d be thrown out the second you put on your T-shirt and shorts.”

  His mouth dropped open, and he ran a hand over his flat stomach. “I’ll have you know that I’m the same weight as when I joined the force ten years ago.”

  “Yeah, but are you fit?”

  “Later, Sis.” Choosing to ignore her final jibe, he went in search of Fay.

  She saw him approach, and her face lit up. She kissed Louie and set him on the grass beside her. Grabbing a glass off the table, she stood up and called out for everyone’s attention. Hero licked his lips, thinking that she was about to announce that the food was ready.

  “Everyone. I want to thank you all for coming today. I know many of you have been working extremely hard on this Krull Gang case with Hero. I know it wasn’t the outcome you had hoped for, but I’d like to thank you and commend you on your efforts, nevertheless. At least Manchester will be a little safer without them around to terrorise innocent folks.” Fay held out her hand, and Hero moved towards her and entwined his fingers with hers. “I’d also like to take this opportunity to share some news with you all.”

  “What news?” he asked with a frown. Ah, a holiday destination announcement. I like them!

  Fay pulled him into her and wrapped one arm around her son’s shoulders and the other around Hero’s waist. “In a few month’s time…” She paused to gaze up at him and swallowed hard.

  He raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Our family will be extended.”

  Cheers broke out, and Hero’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “You mean…we’re pregnant?”

  Fay laughed.

  Hero bent down to Louie and swept him up in his arms. “Did you hear that, little man? We’re having a baby.”

  “Good. Maybe it’ll be better to have rein… rein… reinforcements to help me fight the monsters under my bed. Make sure it comes out prepared, Mummy, won’t you?”

  “I will, darling.”

  Hero hugged Louie and Fay, and unexpectedly, his thoughts turned to Rupert and his family. Maybe he would totally understand what had driven Rupert to take revenge now that he too was going to be a proper father.

  He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. He kissed h
is wife hard on the lips and gazed down at her with adoration. “I’m going to be a dad!”

  The End

  Part II

  Part I

  END RESULT

  Prologue

  Disorientated, Stuart Daws left the pub and stumbled towards the small terraced house he shared with his wife, Cathy. During the course of the evening, he’d consumed a couple of pints too many and was dreading Cathy getting home from work in a few hours. He didn’t need a crystal ball to tell him the kind of reception he’d get when she saw the state of him. Cathy had no doubt already discovered the housekeeping pot empty. He cringed, imagining the screaming fit ahead of him. But what the heck? I’ve a right to drown my sorrows now and again, don’t I? Never mind that it was mostly his missus’s hard-earned money that filled the pot anyway.

  The wind picked up, and ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been fierce enough to affect him much. That night was different, though. He struggled to stand upright, and remaining on course also proved to be a daunting task—the bruises on his elbows were evidence of that. He cursed as he tripped over another crack in the pavement and added yet more bruises to his already painful arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin when an oncoming car blasted its horn, warning him to get out of its path.

  He took the shortcut that ran between several terraces whose yards backed onto each other. He used it frequently to get home from the pub, but in the dark and with no nearby streetlights to guide him, he reached out to feel his way up the alley. Stuart foolishly overlooked the bin lying in his path and cried out when his shin smashed against the metal.

  “Ssshhh, you mangy mutt. You’ll wake the neighbourhood,” he slurred at the dog growling at him from behind the six-foot brick wall to one of the gardens.