Hero series Box Set

by M A Comley

  “One of my customers asked me to get in a large sum of cash for him to withdraw over the next week or so.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred thousand.”

  “I struck the jackpot. Stop dawdling, woman. Fill the bag.”

  “I don’t think it will all fit in the bag.”

  He groaned. “Then use your bloody initiative. Want me to do all your thinking for you?”

  The woman scanned the nearby area and selected a couple of carrier bags sitting next to the desk. His pulse rate escalated with each fat bundle she threw into the bags. He was glad to see the woman was finally taking the situation seriously. Within a few minutes, she stood and offered him the bags.

  He shook his head. “I ain’t that stupid. You carry them through the shop to the front door. Remember, any funny business, and the kid gets a beating or more.”

  She nodded, picked up the two carrier bags and the duffel bag, and struggled back into the shop. Myers pushed the hopping youth in front of him, the gun pointed at his lower spine and the crowbar resting on the youngster’s shoulder. Fortunately, the two were being compliant, riddled with fear and keen for him to leave. He chuckled inside at the plans he had for them.

  The woman stopped at the entrance and turned to face him. “You’ve got what you came for. Now please, leave us alone.”

  “Are you ordering me around, lady?”

  “No, I’m begging you to leave me and my family alone. We can’t give you any more than we’ve given you already.”

  He tilted his head and contemplated her plea. “Can’t you?”

  “No, we have nothing else. We’ll probably get the sack when head office find out we’ve been robbed again.”

  “Again? Prone to getting turned over, are you? If that’s the case, why the fuck did they allow you to have all that money on site?”

  “It was a one-off. Someone robbed us a few years ago. Now this. I’m not sure I want to go on working here after this. My family means the world to me. I can’t put my son through anything like this again.”

  “My heart bleeds for you—is that what you want to hear? Tough, because I lied. That’s the risk you guys take running places like this. Don’t expect the criminals to feel sorry for you, bitch.” He raised the gun and aimed it at her chest.

  Her son knocked the barrel down to the floor, and the gun went off in the commotion. Both Myers and the youth froze for a split second at the sound of the woman’s scream–until Myers took control of the situation once more. He hit the youth in the face with the barrel of the gun, sending him reeling backwards against the front door. The boy slid to his knees, and his mother dropped to the floor in front of him, blood pouring out of the gaping wound in her stomach.

  “Look what your son did. I ain’t taking the blame for this one. Hmm…now there’s a thought—maybe I’ll train him up if he’s willing to shoot his own mother.” He tipped his head back and laughed.

  The youth scrambled across the floor to get to his mother. “Mum, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I was only trying to help. I tried to get the gun off him.”

  The woman smiled, her eyebrows knitted in pain. “It’s all right, Dale. It’s not your fault. Run. Get away from him. Don’t let him make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “I won’t, Mum. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt?”

  Her smile slackened, and her head slipped to the side.

  “Mum…Mum, don’t die. I need you.”

  He yanked the boy to his feet. “Pick up the bags. We’re out of here. Remember, kid, you killed her. Not me. Let’s go.”

  “I can’t leave her like this. What if she’s just passed out and not dead?”

  “With the amount of blood coming out of her stomach, I’d say there’s no saving her now. Hey, consider this: it’s always difficult getting your first murder out of the way.”

  The boy glared at him then attempted to punch him. Myers raised the gun and pointed it at the kid’s chest.

  “Go on. Do it. You might as well kill me now. I have nothing to live for knowing that this was my fault. Do it!”

  Myers laughed and pointed at the bags at the youth’s feet. “Pick them up and open the door.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I need to get medical help for my mother.”

  “She’s gone. I’ll let you in on a little secret: when someone’s chest no longer rises and falls, it means that person is dead. Now frigging move, or you’ll join her.”

  Dale swallowed noisily. After one last glance in his mother’s direction, he scooped up the bags and hopped towards the front door.

  Myers unlocked the door and pushed the kid towards the car. “I ain’t afraid to use this gun, I assure you. I had no intention of killing your mother, although if she’d carried on pleading and talking nonsense, I probably would have been tempted. You beat me to it, saved me a job. Load the bags into the boot and then get inside.”

  Dale’s gaze travelled from the boot to Myers. “I’m not getting in there. I’ll suffocate.”

  “Does this face look bothered? Do as you’re told now!”

  Dale opened the boot and slung the bags inside. “I can’t get in. My leg hurts.”

  “Then don’t frigging stand on that leg. Want me to kill you here and be done with it?”

  “No, sorry. I’m getting in.” The boy placed his hands either side of his injured leg and guided it into the boot, then he sat on the edge of the car and swivelled the rest of his body inside.

  “Hurry up. Get down,” Myers ordered, already closing the boot and hitting Dale on the head.

  Once Dale had shuffled into place, Myers locked the boot and hopped into the driver’s seat with a satisfied grin. He drove home at a normal speed, ensuring he didn’t draw attention to the vehicle. When he arrived, he opened the boot again, and Dale tried to sit up. “Stay there.” He unloaded the bags then slammed it shut again. After depositing the bags in the spare room of his house, he locked the door and went into the kitchen.

  Tiger looked up and stretched when his master entered the room.

  “Hungry, boy? I’ll rectify that now. I’ll be missing for the next twenty-four hours, so I’ll put plenty of food down for you.”

  Chapter 9

  “Right, I’m calling it a day, team. See you all in the morning,” Hero called out on his way towards the exit of the incident room.

  Sally was on the phone, waving frantically at him to hang around.

  He tutted and made his way over to her desk. “What’s up?”

  “Sorry, sir, I’ve been informed that another post office has been hit.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Didsbury. It’s one of the main post offices in the area, unlike the smaller village ones that we’re currently dealing with.”

  “I had better get over there.” He turned back to the incident room. “Julie, are you coming with me?”

  She pulled a face as if querying why he would ask her such a dumb question at the end of her shift. She stood and tucked her chair neatly under her desk. “If I have to, sir.”

  “You guys get off. Be here bright and early.”

  The rest of the team bid them farewell and Hero and Julie left the room. “Sorry if it’s an inconvenience to you, Shaw.”

  “It’s not, sir. I was looking forward to an evening off with Rob, that’s all.”

  “Ah, the uncertainty of being a Murder Investigation Team officer, eh? I really didn’t want another late one, either, if I’m honest. Let’s see if we can wrap things up within an hour. How’s that?”

  Julie smiled tautly. “Sounds good to me, sir.”

  Hero had crossed his fingers when he’d made the suggestion, fully aware of how things might pan out once they visited the crime scene. “Want to go in two cars? It’ll save me needing to drop you back off at the station.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Ever the enthusiastic partner! Before he set off, Hero called Fay to prepare her for yet another late night.<
br />
  “Thanks for ringing, love. See you later, and, Hero, take care.”

  “I will. Be home as quick as I can. Kiss the kids for me.” Hero ended the call and eased into the heavy traffic around the station. “Huh, wishful thinking that this will only take an hour,” he grumbled as if Julie were sitting right next to him. It took them over twenty minutes to get to the crime scene, where half the post office’s car park had been cordoned off. Hero parked alongside Gerrard’s car and waited for Julie to join him then ducked under the tape.

  Gerrard shouted when Hero entered the post office. “Not without protective clothing, Hero, if you don’t mind. You know where to find them. Help yourselves.”

  Hero grumbled and stepped back outside. Once he and Julie were togged up, they entered the crime scene. “What have we got, Gerrard?”

  “A dead body.” Gerrard looked down at the woman’s body he’d been surveying when they had arrived.

  “Funny. I suppose I asked for that. Just the one this time?”

  “So it would appear. The postmistress was called Sharon Walker. According to the shopkeeper next door, who heard the shots fired, she ran this place with her son, Dale. He’s nowhere to be seen.”

  “Interesting—perhaps it was the boy’s day off.”

  Gerrard shrugged. “The shopkeeper couldn’t tell me that. He was waiting for us outside, rang you lot once he discovered the woman’s body. I told him that you’d need a statement when you got here.”

  Hero turned to Julie. “I’ll leave that with you, Shaw.”

  She nodded and left the shop.

  “She loves me, really.” Hero chuckled. “So what happened, in your expert opinion?”

  “Well, we found two safes on the premises. Looks like the culprit took the contents of both then killed the woman. She’s close to the front door. Maybe she ran after her assailant, and he halted her with a shotgun before she could leave the premises.”

  “Linked to the other cases?” Hero asked, glancing down at the victim. The woman was blonde, in her early-to-mid forties, very attractive. The other victims had been much older, but this woman had so much more life to live. What a waste!

  “Maybe, although there were no signs of torture here, just bullet wounds to her stomach.”

  “I’ll take a look out the back, if that’s okay?”

  “Go for it. My team are taking samples out there. Just keep out of their way.”

  “Of course.” Hero went through the doorway into the office and small kitchenette area at the rear of the property. He was surprised to see no other accommodation to the premises, unlike the other scenes he’d been called out to recently. After acknowledging the two SOCO members, he surveyed the area from the doorway. The safe on the floor was empty, except for a small cardboard box. “What’s in the box? Mind if I take a peek?”

  “Be our guest,” the female technician said.

  Hero got down on one knee to remove the box. Inside were a few bunches of keys and various odds and sods, nothing major. He replaced it and picked up the handbag on the desk. “Can I?”

  After the technician nodded, Hero opened the bag with his gloved hand and withdrew the woman’s ID. He jotted down her address in his notebook then replaced the bag on the desk and returned to the shop.

  “Anything else for me, Gerrard? I’ve got the woman’s address. I’m going to head over there now, see if anyone is at home.”

  “Nothing else here. I’ll let you know when the PM reports are available. Good luck.”

  Hero sighed. “You, too.” He left the post office and peered through the window of the grocery shop next door.

  Julie was talking to an Indian man standing behind the counter. Hero dipped his head around the front door and heard Julie completing the man’s statement.

  “Thank you, Mr. Singh. You’ve been most helpful.” Julie walked towards Hero. “He didn’t really see anything, just heard the shots. He called 999 straight away and shut up shop until our boys arrived.”

  “Has he had any bother from any gangs or anything like that?”

  “I did ask. He said nothing along those lines. It has to be connected to the other post office raids, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s looking more and more likely. I’ve got the woman’s home address. I’m going to shoot over there now to inform the family. It’s only up the road. Do you want to come, or would you rather go home?”

  “I’m all right for another half an hour or so if you need the moral support, sir.”

  “Good girl. In that case, follow me.”

  They slipped out of their paper suits and set off. The woman’s house was a few streets away, in one of the classier areas of Manchester. The large Victorian detached house sat at the end of a long driveway on Clover Road. A few of the rooms inside were lit, and an outside light acted like a beacon to guide them up the front steps. Hero inhaled and exhaled a few times then rang the ornate bell in the porch. He hated this side of the job and struggled to find the right amount of empathy to show to the deceased’s family.

  Aware of his discomfort, Julie asked, “Want me to say it, sir?”

  Hero shook his head. “Appreciate the offer. I’ll be fine.”

  A man whose hair was greying at the sides opened the door. “Hello? May I help you?”

  “Mr. Walker?”

  “Yes, that’s right. And you are?”

  Hero produced his ID. “DI Nelson, and this is my partner, DS Shaw. Is it all right if we come in and speak to you, Mr. Walker?”

  The man frowned and glanced at his watch, peering through rimless glasses. “My wife should be home soon. I’m just putting the finishing touches to our evening meal, if that’s okay?”

  Hero nodded. He and Julie followed the man through the spacious hallway into the large kitchen-diner at the rear. Mr. Walker turned down the electric rings under the pots on the stove and invited them to take a seat at the table.

  “What’s this in connection with, Inspector?”

  Hero’s heart raced. “It’s with regret, sir, that I have to inform you that your wife was found murdered at the post office this evening.”

  Walker stared at him. His hand ran through his short hair as tears welled up in his eyes. Recovering his voice, he said, “She’s dead? Sharon is dead?”

  “I’m sorry, yes.”

  “But you said she’d been murdered? How?”

  “It looks like the post office was robbed. There have been other instances in the area recently. Maybe you saw the TV appeal we put out a few days ago?”

  “Yes, we did. Sharon promised me that she would be extra vigilant, told me not to worry because Dale would be with her.”

  “Dale? Your son? Is he here?”

  The man scratched his head. “No, he was at work with Sharon. Are you saying that he wasn’t there? Only Sharon was killed?”

  “There was no one else found at the scene, sir. Does your son have a mobile phone? Would you ring the number for us?”

  His hand shaking, he reached for his mobile sitting in the centre of the table and punched in a number. “Dale…Dale, where are you?”

  Hero frowned at Julie and glanced back at Mr. Walker. “Has he answered the call?”

  “Yes, the phone was answered, and then he hung up. What the hell is going on? Where’s my son?”

  “Given the evidence we have to hand, I have to ask the obvious question, Mr. Walker: is there any way that your son could be involved in this?”

  Walker shook his head in disbelief. “What? How dare you! He’s a good lad, very loving. He’d never hurt his mother. I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing.”

  “Sorry if the question caused any offence. You can understand why I would ask if he wasn’t found at the post office with his mother.”

  “No, I’m not sure I can understand. My son is missing, and you suspect him of killing his own mother! I can categorically tell you he would never sink so low. The boy has never been in bother. Never caused us a day’s trouble in the nineteen years he’s bee
n on this earth. I suggest you stop wasting time here, questioning me—get out there and start looking for Dale! From what I can tell, he’s been abducted by the same insane person who killed my beautiful wife.”

  “That was my next train of thought. One more question, and then we’ll leave you in peace. Has your wife mentioned anyone strange hanging around the post office?”

  “No, nothing like that.” His hands covered his face, and he let out a large sigh. “I can’t believe I’ll never see her again. We were childhood sweethearts, got married when I was twenty and she was eighteen. People said it would never last, but we proved them wrong, until now…my life is going to feel so empty without her to share it. Please, you have to find my son. I just don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him, as well. They’re all I have in this world, Inspector.”

  “I understand. Please accept my condolences and my assurance that we won’t stop until we have apprehended this man and found your son.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

  Hero stood to leave. “We’d better get on. Would you like me to ring someone to maybe come over and sit with you for a while?”

  “No. I’d rather be on my own to deal with this.”

  “Sorry, one last thing: have you got a recent photo of your son?”

  He strode over to the dresser and yanked out a drawer. The contents spilled onto the floor. He tossed things aside until he located a family holiday snap. He handed the photo to Hero then started for the front door, clearly expecting them to follow.

  When Hero and Julie had stepped across the threshold, Hero turned back to the other man.

  “Please keep me informed, Inspector,” Mr. Walker said before he gently closed the door behind them.

  “Poor man. So, are we going to put out an alert for the son, sir?” Julie asked as they walked down the steps.

  “Yep, I’m going to action that now. It’s better to do it now than leave it and feel the wrath of the DCI for shoddy policing. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Julie. See you in the morning.”

  “You, too, sir.”

  After placing the call to the station, Hero eased into the traffic, which was thankfully lighter this evening, allowing him time to contemplate how to proceed with the case. By the end of his journey, he had decided it would be better to put out a TV appeal the following day. Someone somewhere might have seen the two men.