by Tim Heath
Having already been alerted earlier that morning by a telephone call while still at home, he had been told that a Terry Goldman would be arrested later. Brief details were given about the man, painting quite a picture as PC Chambers got ready for what would turn out to be quite a day. Before leaving the modest semi-detached house that he lived in by himself, he went into his garage from the kitchen. Hidden behind a large toolbox he housed his safe and inside it, for when an extreme action was required, he had been given ten syringes filled with the very latest drug, which was not available yet on the open market. In many aspects, a real medical breakthrough, it was currently not used by anyone else at that time. The drug was to be administered to the victim through a short stab of a needle, the point of entry of which, if done correctly, would be impossible to find. Once the drug entered the bloodstream, which it would do in under ten seconds, it would induce a very rapid heart attack that would kill its victim instantly yet leave all the visible signs that could only point to the cause of death as being just that––a heart attack.
PC Chambers closed the safe quickly and with the needle taped securely to his left ankle, which was then covered over by his sock and trouser leg, he’d left the house and driven the short three miles to the police station with some renewed vigour, even by his standards.
The day had indeed lived up to his earlier expectations with the events unfolding as they had and having accompanied DCI Jack Derry around for most of it, PC Chambers had seen at first hand the man he’d been told about––Mr Terry Goldman.
So when later in that day Terry Goldman had started to speak under interrogation, and they’d had to stop to get his lawyer as well as to give themselves a break, PC Chambers knew that the time to act had come. Having watched his DCI walk back down the hall towards his office, he’d listened for a moment for the familiar click that the door made when it was closing shut. Happy that the coast was clear, PC Chambers made his way around the corner to where the cells were located, checking all the time to see who was around. A lot quieter than it sometimes was there, there were only two or maybe three other guys around at the best of times, and now they were no doubt busy as usual, away from the main desk in one of the adjoining rooms. Because the Custody Desk was not open to the public, it was not uncommon for it to be left empty for long periods of time. The paperwork required by the new laws meant sitting down to do it in the attached offices was far more comfortable than trying to do it standing at the desk.
Bending down to appear to be doing his shoelace, PC Chambers unstrapped the needle and carefully put it inside his right coat pocket. Standing up and having yet another glance around, he leaned over the desk and picked up the clipboard that had the inmates listed against the detention cell in which they were now located.
With everything remaining quiet around the desk, PC Chambers slipped further down the corridor, turning the corner to where the cells were located. He stopped briefly outside the cell of Terry Goldman, where he listened with his ear pressed against the cold metal door to make sure that no one else was in with him already. Satisfied that Goldman was alone, PC Chambers proceeded to undo the locks, the door coming free, and pulling it open he walked into the cell, pulling the door shut behind him. Terry Goldman was sitting on the wooden bench at the back and looked up a little surprised. PC Chambers stood there quietly for a moment, frozen in time for a second, as he thought about what he was about to do. He’d never actually done this before on a real person, always prepare, but now it was real, and he was standing in front of his target, alone in the cell together, Terry Goldman just gazing up at him, a sorrowful mess.
Starting to look a little concerned, Terry said; “What are you here for?”
Shaking PC Chambers out of his momentary idleness, he calmly went to pick Terry up by his chubby arm, as if escorting him out of the cell. Once standing he twisted his arm around behind his back, pinning Goldman against the wall and revealed the flabby folds of skin that sat there on his massive arms. Terry went silent, shocked at what was happening and in pain as his arm was starting to hurt now.
“Terry Goldman,” PC Chambers said, having reached and pulled the needle from his right-hand pocket, “You are a sick, perverted man and your time has now come. You wouldn’t have lasted a week inside anyway!” Pressing the needle into one of the folds of his arm, he injected him with the colourless liquid and released his grip. Terry turned around looking back at him briefly in the face, an expression that would never leave PC Chambers from that moment on, and then starting to fall, his heart now failing, he crashed silently to the concrete floor already dead.
PC Chambers, putting the cap on the needle and slipping it back down his sock, went back over to the door, listening carefully for the sound of any movement outside and not hearing anything, opened it carefully, checking all the time, before walking out again. Closing the door, he walked away as quickly as he could back down the corridor and into the main station again.
The Duty Sergeant, thinking that he’d heard footsteps, returned to his desk but saw no one around. Listening for a moment, he decided he would go and check on the cells. Terry Goldman’s cell was first on the left and noticing straightaway that the top lock stood open, he pulled down the metal window to see Terry lying on the floor. He quickly turned the key, opened the door and then went to raise the alarm.
A doctor was there within minutes, and he quickly confirmed that the prisoner was dead.
DCI Jack Derry also turned up, having been made aware of the situation when the doctor had been called, and he arrived to hear the confirmation of the death. Pulling the Duty Sergeant to one side, he asked; “What happened here, Adam?”
“Doc says it has all the hallmarks of a heart attack.”
DCI Jack Derry shook his head in disbelief.
“There was one thing that was odd though, sir if we could have a word in private.”
DCI Jack Derry had known Adam Woodall for too many years, and Adam was a straight-down-the-line type of guy. They walked over to a separate room as Terry’s body was being covered over and prepared to be removed for the autopsy. DCI Jack Derry closed the door behind them and gave Adam his full attention.
“I thought that I’d heard someone at the desk so had come back from the filing room to the desk, but no one was there. That’s what prompted me to check the cells. And, you know how it is here, I spotted straightaway that the top lock on Goldman’s cell had been left open. Now, I drum home the importance of following procedure with all my staff, and I’ve fired people for making that mistake in the past. But I put Goldman in that cell myself, and I’m positive that I wouldn’t have left that lock open.”
DCI Jack Derry respected Adam Woodall a lot and always greatly valued what he had to say. Not wanting to rule out the possibility that Adam had just made a mistake, he decided to play things very carefully, not sure what to think about it at this stage. ‘But what if there had been someone around?’ he thought to himself. Knowing he could trust Adam he said:
“Okay, let’s keep this between us. Officially, this goes down as a probable heart attack, and no one knows anything more, okay? I’ll need you to put it in writing, confidentially of course, what you’ve just told me. No one will know about this apart from us until we’re sure about things. If you remember anything more, then you come only to me, is that clear Adam?”
“Yes, perfectly, sir.”
Jack went over to the doctor as a team of men were lifting Terry’s body onto a bed, and they proceeded to take it away. The doctor turned to Jack and said:
“All initial signs would say his heart gave out. He wasn’t a small man, after all. Bad heart combined with all the stress of being arrested and his crimes exposed, could easily have set this off.”
“Thanks, Doc. Once you have the results, please report back to me––and only me. Is that clear?”
“Yes...Is there a problem?”
“No, just a procedure thing. Here’s my mobile number. The first you hear, we have a chat on that,
okay.”
The Doctor took the card and put it in his pocket, a little concerned by the nature of the conversation, but he decided just to leave the matter at that and just do as he’d been requested. He would have results back anyway in about two hours and was almost sure that they would prove some form of heart attack.
Nigel Gamble had spent a good hour walking around his secluded garden, hidden from the rest of his estate by great razor topped walls, and away from prying eyes so that he could be himself. He liked to walk around and think, brushing his fingers through shrubs like his specially imported Japanese Acer. The Acer stood proudly as the centrepiece of this small haven that he’d had built some years back not long after he’d moved there.
Nigel was getting concerned. Aware that in time there would be people on a mission to take away all he’d gained, he feared the man that would be able to find him, the one who knew of him––the one who knew his darkest secrets. Nigel didn’t know when or from where they would come, but as the years had passed Nigel had become more and more troubled by the prospect, to the point that nothing was safe. Now he mostly lived a secluded lifestyle, more luxurious than he’d ever dreamt possible and yet a prisoner to his fears.
Never having known quite how long he’d have before they would come after him, Nigel was quite sure that this latest threat, Robert, was the man and this was eating away at Nigel so that for the first time in twenty years, he wasn’t able to sleep. Breathing in the fresh country air, Nigel knew that clear thinking was required and this was what he desired. Remembering something that he had passed on to his technological company Ample Tech a year ago, he thought that now would be a great time to test it out. Back then, he’d come across a revolutionary piece of tracking technology that he’d purchased before passing it on to a team at Ample Tech with the strict instructions to not only keep it under wraps but to get to know how it worked inside out. They were then to use its science to develop further things as well as to improve the efficiency and worth of technologies which already existed.
The magic of this new piece of technology was that while existing technology was available in a specific format to trace telephone calls, fingerprints, or voice recognition, this device did all these and much more.
It was ruthless in its ability to not only track but also to predict the location of the person being investigated. Guided by satellites, which Nigel already had in place, and once it picked up an individual’s trail, there was no escape. It was able to predict and track every possible route that they could have taken until settling upon their exact current location to the nearest few metres and picking up on any further communication coming from those precise coordinates. When a target was actively communicating with anyone, the machine’s ability was unrivalled, and it would revolutionise the way tracking was done. When Nigel had purchased it, it had been called the Total Hawk Eye Defence System (THEDS). He thought a new, more appropriate, name was now required and therefore settled upon the ‘Genesis System’ as Nigel knew that its worldwide release would bring everything back to square one so that this device would become the new starting point for all further advances.
Realising that his team at Ample Tech would not have had their hands on the Genesis System for very long before he’d want it operational, he needed to think of the best way to get them to release it for him. He planned that he’d put it into the hands of a specialist security wing of the government that he had helped set up, funding it entirely out of his own wealth, part of a so-called gesture to his beloved country by giving them something that would keep them safe. Of course, the real reason was far more selfish, and by keeping these people on his side, Nigel knew that when the time came, he would always have the upper hand––which was the only way Nigel Gamble knew how to be.
Picking up his mobile phone––even that had its own satellite––he went to the speed dial for Ample Tech and called the number, the phone ringing a couple of times before a female voice answered. Speaking for as little time as he could, which was his usual habit, he outlined what he wanted and who the system was meant to be passed to, being kept off the open market, not even to be made available to the government. He’d said how these people would adequately test it and that in time the global launch would make Ample Tech the world’s market leader and it’d finally finish off a number of their rivals.
By the end of the call, Nigel was happy. Everything would be done as requested, of course, and they’d promised that they would do it straight away. Nigel knew he’d now have to speak to his contact at the security agency to make them aware of what he was sending them and that he’d soon provide the details of the person they were to test it on and then let him know as soon as they had found him. Thirty minutes later he was smiling again, happy with his morning’s work and now making his way back up towards the house again. He told himself as he went inside that maybe he’d be able to sleep a lot easier in a few days after all.
Having finished the autopsy of Terry Goldman, a call was put into DCI Jack Derry as requested.
“Hello, Jack. Look, I have the results. It was a total cardiac arrest that killed that young man, a major one that would have killed him instantly in all likelihood.”
“Oh, thanks, Doc. I’m just not sure about all this. Something maybe doesn’t fit correctly. Is there anything, at all, about the body that might show any sign of foul play?”
“Look,” the doctor said, a little taken aback that his professional viewpoint was being questioned. “I don’t know what you are looking for, but I’m certain on this.” He paused for a brief moment. “Okay, there was a tiny bit of bruising on one wrist, but that would have been when you cuffed him behind his back, right?”
“No, he walked out his office with us, we didn’t cuff him. What was the bruising?”
“It is probably nothing, Jack. I think you need to put this one to bed now. There’s nothing there. I’ve established the cause of death, what more am I to do? He’s not the only body I have to check today you know. I can’t afford to waste all this time looking for what isn’t there!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. Please, can you just check once more for anything unusual?”
“And was there foul play, Jack? Is this what it’s about? One of your guys got out of hand again?”
“No, nothing like that. Please, just one more check. Look for the unexpected. For me, my friend. You know I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”
“Okay, Jack, for you. Look, I can’t promise it straight away as I do have others to do but I will check one more time before I sign off on it. You owe me one!”
Tommy Lawrence left the boardroom having spent the last hour in meetings being introduced to the existing backroom staff and then the members of the board, to which he now became the newest addition.
Evidently, there had been a lot of hostility in the air to start with, and Tommy had done his best to calm the fears of all. Still, he had some way to go to get the most long-standing members on side. All they could see was the substantial changes that were happening to their club by these new people, and they were not comfortable with too much change––which Tommy had known was the reason for the sporting ‘nothingness’ that the club had seen over the last decades. The contrast between the team his father had so fervently followed and the team he now managed today was massive. But one day soon he hoped that maybe the glory days would return, but it had to be through youth, which is what he’d told the guys just now. They were all very quiet, remaining so cautious, and afraid to say anything wrong that might see them out of a job.
It was the subject of the youth policy that had caused most heads to turn. It was clear from the way Tommy spoke about it that something was going on behind the scenes and even though no one in the meeting would dare say it, most thought that the new owners were telling Tommy how to do things and this made them think even less of the club’s new manager.
Tommy, however, walked with a spring in his step back to his freshly decorated office having completed his first we
ek in the job. His main battles had been with all the established people, be they playing staff or boardroom members. He was very confident in his own ability though and knew that if they just gave him the time they would all soon understand. Having said he wasn’t going to get involved in the first match due to the events all happening so quickly, he’d sat in the director's box, alone, to see his new side stumble into the halftime break 2-0 down. The coaching staff looked defeated already as they walked into the dressing room about to give the halftime team talk. Angry at this, Tommy couldn’t help himself and went down into the dressing room taking over from them. Initially, a little friction arose, but with time short, Tommy started praising the things he’d spotted that they’d been doing well. Then having noticed areas of weakness in their opponents, that the team hadn’t exploited in the first half, he started detailing ways to take advantage in the second half. The lads left the dressing room inspired and the 2-2 draw they went on to get only won Tommy respect from his playing staff, while to everyone on the outside who had been told the new boss was watching from the stands, no one was any the wiser as to the reason for the turnaround. It took a lot of pressure off the new manager. It meant he could face the media presence he knew there would be at his first official game in charge the following week, safe in the knowledge that his players could perform for him, which only made him feel more pleased with his own progress.
Whether there would be any new players by then, Tommy wasn’t sure. He’d been working on the transfer of Clint Powers and had not long been given some positive news. Not only was Clint yet to sign any professional contract, but he was also quite open to the idea of working again with Tommy and being part of a revolutionary young side, which is how Tommy had described it when he’d spoken to Clint the other morning. If he signed for them, Tommy knew that there would no doubt be some compensation to pay somewhere down the line, but that wasn’t an issue. What excited him was the thought of grabbing one of England’s brightest prospects right from under the noses of the great Manchester United and having him join them instead. Surely that would put them on the map, though undoubtedly Powers wouldn’t be able to turn things around on his own. Tommy knew that there were these other players that Brendan Charles had insisted on and he would take whatever he was given, but Powers would be a real catch.