Hero series Box Set

by M A Comley

  Fay sat up. “How awful. I’m not surprised you looked wrung out when you came home. Any news on the other case you’re working on?”

  “The one concerning our colleagues? Not yet. We’re going along the lines that there might be a connection. I’m going to call a TV conference tomorrow. I need to warn the other postmasters in the area to be wary. I also want to try and trace the killer’s car—a blue Laguna. According to Sally, there are over two thousand of the blasted things in the area.”

  Fay tilted her head up for a kiss. “I have every confidence you’ll catch the culprit soon, love.”

  “I’m glad you have faith in my abilities. I’m struggling to find any right now,” he stated, sighing wearily.

  Chapter 5

  “Right, here’s where we’re at, people,” Hero said, addressing his full complement of staff. He narrowed his eyes as his gaze rested on his partner, sitting at her desk, looking distracted, when everyone else had their eyes on him. “Julie? Are you with us this morning?”

  She spun around to face him, colour rising in her cheeks. “Umm … yes, sir.”

  Hero made a mental note to take her to one side once the meeting was over. “Today’s priority is to organise a press conference for this afternoon. I intend warning all the local PO staff in the area to be more vigilant than usual until we apprehend this man. Sally, I want you to ring round as many as you can, just in case they miss the news. Ensure they realise the importance of being alert over the coming few days.”

  “I’ll make the calls ASAP, sir.”

  “Good, our hands are tied forensically until the results come back from Gerrard and his team. Jason, I want you to see what you can gather from the CCTV footage. Apparently, this bloke left the PO and nonchalantly jumped into his car. The witness said that there didn’t seem to be any urgency behind him leaving the crime scene. That bothers me. It’s as though this killer feels nothing for his victims. So what’s this guy’s motive? More importantly, I think we should be looking more at his state of mind. Apart from being a callous bastard, what else is going on up there?” He tapped his temple.

  Julie shook her head in disbelief. “Anyone who shoots an old woman in the kneecaps has to be right up there with the nutters, surely, sir.”

  “That much is a given, Julie. Okay, team, get cracking while I arrange the conference. Julie, I’d like a word in my office first.”

  She followed him into the office.

  “Close the door behind you.”

  “Sir?”

  “Let’s have it then?”

  She frowned. “Have what, sir?”

  “Why you took the day off yesterday?”

  Her head dipped so low that her chin nestled on her chest. She remained silent, as if trying to think up a plausible excuse.

  “Julie, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?” He moved around the desk and sat on it in front of her.

  “To be honest, sir, I hate to admit it, but I’m struggling at present.”

  “May I ask what you’re struggling with?”

  “Life in general.”

  Hero frowned and tried to think over how she had coped with work during the last few months. He’d had no complaints on that score. “I’m here if you need to discuss anything, Julie. You should know that,” he said, softening his tone a little.

  “I know, sir. It’s probably me being foolish, but…”

  “Don’t stop there. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

  “Let’s just say life has been put back into perspective this week, what with Wilmot’s and Portman’s deaths.”

  “I can understand that. Shit like this happens all the time to serving officers, Julie. Every time we step out onto the street, we run the risk of coming up against a madman capable of killing us. It’s even more important for us to remain positive that we’ll catch this man. Negativity will only fester. In the end, it will only suffocate our abilities—you know that.”

  “I know, sir. Rob said the same thing last night.”

  Hero cringed when she mentioned her on-off boyfriend, who was one of his least favourite characters. At least he was making the right noises for a change and sticking with her. He’d walked out on her right after she’d lost her mum, only to return to her bed once the funeral and all the unpleasant stuff connected with her mother’s death had been dealt with. “Glad we finally agree on something. Are you coping with the loss of your mother? Could that have something to do with how you’re feeling?”

  Her gaze met his. “It was hard to lose her. I don’t think there will ever be a day when I don’t miss her. However, her death has nothing to do with how I’m feeling right now.” She waved a hand in front of her. “I’ll be fine in a day or two, sir. Bounce back like I always do, given the space.”

  “If you’re sure. I can sign you off for a few days’ leave if you’d rather. Although, I’d much prefer you work through whatever the lads’ deaths are ‘putting you through’ here with us. That’s what working in a team is all about.”

  “I’m aware of that, sir. Sorry if you feel as if I’ve let the side down.” Julie’s head bowed again.

  Hero blew out a breath. “There you go, twisting my words, as usual. Julie, if you’re not happy working on this team, it’s time for you to be open and honest about that, you hear me?” The words came out harsher than he’d intended. His grief over the loss of a dear friend was making him desperate to capture the culprit. He sighed. Not everyone reacted to a crisis the way he did; he should be used to that by now.

  Her head snapped up to look at him. “Sir? I’m not thinking anything of the sort—pardon me for breathing.”

  He stood, counted to ten, and sat behind his desk. “And that kind of sarcasm belongs in the playground, not in my office.”

  Julie went to rise from her chair, but he motioned for her to remain seated.

  “But I’d like to get back to work now.”

  “Not until you give me your assurance that you’ll devote a hundred percent of your time to work and finding this offender.”

  She shrugged. “All I can do is try my best, sir. If my best isn’t good enough for you, then might I suggest that you partner up with someone who you’re happy to work with?”

  Frustration got the better of him, and he threw his pen across the desk. “There you go again, twisting my bloody words. I just offered you time off, and you threw it back in my face. Go, Julie. Get back to work before I really lose my temper with you. I will not—I repeat, will not—have a self-pitying sergeant as my partner. So, either you get your act together, as in by the end of today, or we’ll see about getting you transferred out of this team. Life is tough on everyone around here because of what happened to Wilmot and Portman, but you don’t see the other members of the team wallowing in self-pity, do you?”

  She stood and pushed her chair under the lip of the desk, avoiding eye contact with him. “Sorry to be such a disappointment, sir. I’ll try my best to shape up before you get tempted to ship me out.”

  “We’ll chat more at the end of the day. How’s that?” He picked up the address book sitting on his desk. “Go through that. We need to trace Georgina Kilburn or whatever her married name is now. She’s living in Australia. Let me know when you find it, and I’ll place the call myself.”

  “Yes, sir.” She took the book and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Hero leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. He looked over at the grey Manchester skyline and tutted. “Thanks, I was hoping for some blue sky, anything to cheer me up.” He rocked back and forth a few times then rang the station’s press coordinator to arrange the TV appeal. Once he’d obtained the clearance about that, he picked up the first of many brown envelopes scattered across his desk and tore it open. It turned out to be a mundane change of procedure he’d been informed about in another dull letter only last week.

  Julie poked her head into his room ten minutes later and gave him a piece of paper on which she’d written a nam
e and phone number.

  He rang the number in Australia.

  A man with a thick Australian accent answered.

  “Hello there. I wish to speak to Georgina. This is DI Nelson of the Greater Manchester Police.”

  “In connection with what?” the man asked sternly.

  “I’d like to tell Georgina that first, if you don’t mind. It is important.”

  “Just a minute. I’ll get her.” The phone clattered. “George, there’s someone on the phone for you. Don’t be long; I want my dinner.”

  He sounds a right charmer!

  “Hello, this is Georgina. Who’s this?”

  “Hello, Georgina. This is DI Nelson of the Greater Manchester Police Force. Can I ask if you’re sitting down?”

  “Oh no. It’s not bad news about Dad, is it?”

  “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to say this—your mother and father were both found dead at the post office yesterday.”

  Georgina’s scream almost pierced his eardrum. Her husband demanded to be told what was going on.

  “What the fuck have you said to my wife?” the man shouted into the phone. “She’s in bits here.”

  “Sorry, I had to tell her that her parents had been found dead yesterday. There was no other way of me sharing that news with her.”

  “Jesus, couldn’t you have told me instead, or at least told me to be on standby? My wife is pregnant. If she loses this baby, it’ll be down to you. What happened?”

  “I can’t apologise enough. There was a major incident at the post office. Mr. and Mrs. Kilburn were killed in a robbery.”

  “What? Don’t you guys have some kind of panic button attached to the police station over there?”

  “Some do, not all of them.”

  “What happens now? Have you caught the bastard or bastards? Were they kids?”

  “No. We’re still on the culprit’s trail.”

  “You better get off the phone and crack on with your investigation then. What’s the next step for us?”

  “Once the pathologist has completed the post-mortems on Mr. and Mrs. Kilburn, their bodies will be released for burial. Will you be coming over to deal with things at this end?”

  “Ha, I suppose we’ll have to. Not sure my boss will keep my job open for me.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t be that heartless. I’ll keep you informed.”

  “You don’t know my boss. Right, make sure you do.”

  Hero disconnected the call and with a heavy heart returned to his paperwork. When he left his office to see how far his team had progressed, they had very little to tell him. He’d pinned his hopes on Jason coming up with something through the CCTV footage, but there was nothing. “Jason, widen the search. Even if it takes you all day, I want you to pull up all the footage surrounding that area around that time.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Okay, I have the conference to attend in an hour’s time. Thought I’d treat us all to lunch. It’ll have to be sarnies, though. Sally, fancy a trip out to the baker’s?”

  Sally stood and slipped on her coat. “The walk will do me good. I’ll make a note of what everyone wants.”

  “Brilliant. Mine’s a cheese and ham on white. Julie, can you organise the coffee for when Sally returns? Oh, and this isn’t me being sexist, asking you girls to organise lunch—you’re the two people who just do it best.”

  Sally laughed as she walked out of the incident room, while Julie glanced at him and shook her head in disgust.

  Oops…that didn’t go as planned.

  During lunch, Hero jotted down some notes to remind him what points he wanted to raise during the conference—things had a tendency to veer off-track once the journalists began asking their, sometimes inane, questions. Then he made his way downstairs to the designated press room.

  He shuffled in his seat until the press liaison officer brought the crowd to attention and introduced him. Then he switched to professional mode.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending this very important conference. I’ll be covering two, actually three, cases that we believe could be connected. You’re probably aware two of our colleagues were brutally murdered this week. Our hearts and thoughts go out to the families of Constables Paul Wilmot and Chris Portman, but their killer is still on the loose. We believe he was driving a blue Laguna. Unfortunately, the licence plate had been obscured. The incident took place on the B5229, and we’re appealing for witnesses who have information about the crime or who might have overheard someone bragging about the crime. Please do not approach this dangerous man. If you have any information, please contact my team immediately on the number I will be giving you at the end of this conference.”

  “DI Nelson,” a cocky-looking young man in the front interrupted him. “You mentioned three crimes. Are all the crimes related to murdered coppers?”

  Hero tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. He recognised the man as Mr. Harjet from the Sun newspaper. “I’m about to mention the other crimes we believe are connected to this man. If you’ll bear with me, Mr. Harjet.”

  “Sorry, go ahead,” Harjet replied, sporting a smug grin.

  Tempted to swipe the grin off Harjet’s face, Hero continued addressing the rest of the well-mannered crowd. “As I previously suggested, we believe this man had possibly committed another heinous crime and was on the run from that when Constables Wilmot and Portman spotted him. This is pure speculation on our part at present, but we’re aware that another crime took place at the post office on Eccles Old Road roughly around the same time. The postmaster, Donald Millward, was found dead at the scene. Not only was the man murdered, he also suffered a great deal of torture before his life was ended. Forensics are still taking samples from the scene.”

  “How do you know these crimes are connected, Inspector?” the cocky young journalist interrupted him again.

  Hero glanced at the press liaison officer and raised his eyebrows at her.

  “If you’d kindly refrain from interrupting the inspector with your questions, we’d appreciate it. Thank you,” she said, looking directly at Harjet.

  He had the grace to apologise before Hero continued, “As if those two crimes weren’t enough, my team is also dealing with another crime that took place yesterday at a second post office in the area. This time at Bury New Road, where Frances Kilburn and her husband, Fred, were both killed on the premises. Again, I’m asking for any witnesses to come forward. This was a truly atrocious crime, carried out by a monstrous and callous criminal. We’re urging members of the public not to approach this man, and again, if you’ve overheard anything relating to either of these crimes, please contact us as soon as humanly possible. It remains our priority to get this man off the streets of Manchester, but we’re going to need your help to do that.” Hero gave out the telephone number of the incident room before he opened the floor up to questions. Harjet raised his hand, but Hero intentionally ignored him and pointed to Dave Wheeler, one of the more pleasant journalists he’d had the fortune to work with over the years. “Yes, Mr. Wheeler.”

  “I take it there was no forensic evidence left at either of the scenes, Inspector?”

  “We’re still carrying out the tests at present. These things take time, especially as there are three different crime scenes to examine. Next?”

  Harjet raised his hand again. Hero reluctantly pointed in his direction. “Mr. Harjet?”

  “Will there be an extra police presence on this case, Inspector, due to the fallen officers being involved?”

  “Let me put it this way, Mr. Harjet—I think the general public would expect it, wouldn’t you? Any individual willing to take down not one, but two, serving police officers, in the line of duty is not to be taken lightly.”

  “I agree. So, we’ll expect an influx of officers to be patrolling the Manchester area from now on?”

  “You can take that as read, yes. But I don’t want this to be about the regrettable loss the Greater Manchester Police Fo
rce has incurred. The main criteria for us at this point is to arrest this person and to make the streets of Manchester safe once more.”

  When there didn’t appear to be any further questions, Hero said, “I would like to end this conference by appealing to all the post office mistresses and masters in the Manchester area to remain vigilant until the assailant is caught. You’ll be the first to know when that happens. Thank you all for attending today.” He rose from his seat and left the room. He sighed, glad to be out of the camera’s focus, for the moment.

  Chapter 6

  Myers watched the evening news, leaning forward in his chair when the DI investigating his cases made his plea. He laughed until tears ran down his face.

  “You’ll never catch me, idiot. You haven’t got the brains to outwit me—none of you have.” He refilled his tumbler with malt, downed the contents in one large gulp, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

  The map was lying on the table beside him. He picked up his pen, closed his eyes, and prodded the map. Opening his eyes, he held the map up to see the location he’d pointed out. “Didsbury. Hmm … well, now, that’s different. Over the other side of the city works well for me. If nothing else, it’ll keep the coppers on their toes.” He looked through the Yellow Pages beside him and ran his hand down the list of post offices, settling on the one in West Didsbury. The area was more built up than he was used to, but he was prepared to raise his game. Challenging himself would end up challenging the coppers, too.

  “It’s time to start upping the ante, Tiger.” He stroked his loyal, chubby tabby cat under the chin.

  Tiger purred and closed his eyes, revelling in the adoration his owner always bestowed upon him.

  “This one will have to be planned meticulously. I’ll need to stake it out for a day or two, see when their busy times are, that sort of thing. It’s definitely going to be one of the more challenging jobs I’ve contemplated over the years. If I don’t plan it out properly, I’ll fail, and that’s never been a word in my vocabulary. Hey, Tiger, want to come on a job with me? The women would be all over you, then I could rob them blind while they’re distracted.” Chortling. he picked up the heavy cat and snuggled into his fur. “Just kidding, buddy. I’d never put you in danger. Want some food?”