by steve higgs
Hans threw his body from side to side again, but so focussed in his efforts was he, that he failed to see the human lining up to kick him. The boot caught his right shoulder, shooting him across the carpark and into a barrel roll as he lost control and chose to go with it. He landed right way up, and though he felt dizzy and disorientated, he flipped back onto his feet and ran back into the fight.
Eugene was moving the moment the dog’s teeth left his flesh. Driving up from the ground like a sprinter coming out of their blocks, he had only a scant handful of yards to cover to get to the van and safety. Stuff the earl’s instructions to bring Victor Harris back. He could send someone else. This mission was a bust already.
In the van, Francis looked around hopelessly. He needed the key and his stupid partner, Eugene, probably had them in the pocket of his trousers. What on Earth was his next move? The dog was still barking like crazy and the old man was on his phone; Francis could see it illuminating the old man’s face at the edge of the courtyard. It didn’t take a genius to work out that the police would be here soon. Where on Earth was Eugene with the keys?
Rex had hurt his face when he slammed into the van’s closing door, but the taste of blood in his mouth was just fuelling his desire to bite someone. He barked threats and promises at the human just inches away on the other side of the glass, but he couldn’t get to him. Or so the human clearly thought, but when Rex spied an opportunity, he stopped barking and started running again.
Eugene slammed into the passenger’s side of the van, fumbling for the door handle now slippery with rain and the mud and crud on his fingers. He’d given the little dachshund a mighty kick to its head, sending it five yards across the carpark. His intention had been to kill it with one blow, but the tough little blighter was already coming back for seconds; barking and growling his evil intentions. Eugene figured he had about a second and a half before the dog was on his ankle again and it was already sticky with blood from the last attack. Maybe if Francis hadn’t seen it, he could say it was a bulldog; those are low to the ground too, but a mite tougher sounding than a sausage dog.
He ripped the door open, landing inside in the dry, safe interior. He was out of breath and shaking from the adrenalin surging through his body, but he hadn’t expected Francis to grab his lapels before his backside had even come to rest on the seat.
‘Where are the keys?’ screamed Francis, getting into Eugene’s face. He wanted to know where his fool partner had been but there was no time for a Q and A session. They needed to leave now!
Sensing the urgency Francis felt, Eugene squirmed around to get his hand into his trouser pocket but came up empty. This started a frantic patting session as he explored all the possible places the keys might be, certain in his head that he’d put the keys in his front right trouser pocket where he always kept them.
‘Come on!’ yelled Francis, but a worried glance showed them both where the keys were: they were outside on the ground in the rain.
‘They must have fallen out when the dog got me!’ Eugene wailed in despair.
Francis couldn’t believe his idiot colleague had the nerve to make up excuses. ‘The dog was chasing me, not you! What were you doing?’
Eugene growled, ‘There’re two dogs!’ But just as he said that, Hans whipped through a pool of light on his way to the van and Francis coughed out a laugh.
‘That thing? That’s what got you? Good thing it wasn’t a gerbil, it might have had your leg off!’ despite their situation, he found the sausage dog attack truly funny. That was until they both felt the van’s suspension dip and all thoughts of mirth and counterargument evaporated when they turned to see Rex behind them.
They’d left the side door open!
With a scream, both men went out their respective doors so fast it defied the laws of physics. Rex’s teeth closed with a snap in the space Francis’s neck had occupied mere moments before, and the door slammed in his face when he tried to follow.
Eugene and Francis found themselves back in the carpark. The van’s keys were tantalisingly close, but they stood no chance of getting to them before both dogs were upon them. The surprisingly loud dachshund was coming up fast and the big dog would be out of the van in seconds. There was nothing for it: they were going to have to go on foot.
The vehicle exit from the courtyard was to their left, directly opposite where the old man stood. Francis took off running, yelling for Eugene to follow. If they could get to the road, maybe they could stop someone and steal their car. Maybe they could find a wall to climb and escape that way. All he knew was that he needed to go right now.
Seeing Francis sprint for the way out and the road beyond, Eugene followed him, but his right ankle was sore enough that it stopped him running flat out as Francis was.
Rex came out of the van with his body already changing direction in mid-air. His front paws met the tarmac and drove off as he leaned into the bend and got himself around the front of the van. Hans was already running at full speed, whipping by Rex as he too pursued the two men.
His human was shouting something; Rex could hear his name being called but he only needed a few seconds to bring his quarry down now. They were in the open and on foot. There was nowhere for them to go and no hope of escape now. This was the best part, so far as Rex was concerned. Afterwards, the humans could work out who had done what and why. All he needed to know was that the humans he was chasing had done something wrong and he got to be the one to stop them.
His longer stride meant he would catch up to and overtake Hans in a few paces. He was coming up to full speed, just a few more bounds and he would be able to leap. The nearest human was hobbling a little. Rex planned to bring him down and then go after the other one. But with a gut-wrenching twist, he saw the danger and altered his plan.
Francis was running flat out, his arms and legs pumping as he hit the pavement. He was on the B road that ran through the town and Eugene was hot on his heels. The dogs were too close for him to hope to jack a car, but the moving traffic presented a different opportunity. There was no hope of timing it, he just had to go and hope for the best. Francis reached the edge of the pavement and kept going, zipping out in front of a truck laden with asphalt for the new ring-road being built around the town.
The driver swore and slammed on his brakes.
Rex caught up to Hans, sideswiping the smaller dog with a paw to alter his trajectory and send him crashing to the ground.
Francis ripped through the gap, narrowly missing the truck’s front bumper just as he intended. Anything following too closely behind didn’t stand a chance. Unfortunately for Eugene, that meant him.
Just as Hans skittered across the pavement and Rex did everything he could to stop himself, the man they were chasing was hit by the truck. Rex had seen it from the corner of his eye and knew the chase was doomed. He couldn’t get to the men, but he could save the dachshund from certain death.
Eugene landed more than ten yards down the road, hitting a lamppost with a sickening crunch that left a dent in the galvanised steel. His body spun through a horizontal plane and landed face down in the gutter. He didn’t move.
What a Mess
When the men ran from the dark courtyard with the dogs tearing after them, Albert had screamed for them to stop. He could see the men were heading toward the busy main road and fear gripped him for what might happen if the dogs tried to follow them across it. Neither dog showed any sign of even hearing him and he could do nothing but watch them vanish around the edge of the wall that bordered the carpark.
The police were coming, he’d seen to that, reporting the situation as active and deadly, two words he knew would get them to his location in a hurry. His priority, once he could get to him, was to check on Victor’s condition. Terrified for what might happen to Rex when he reached the main road, Albert’s heart almost stopped when he heard a squeal of brakes from what sounded like a large vehicle. When he also heard a dog cry out in shock, he almost abandoned the human victim to check on his
canine companion.
However, he understood his duty was to the man lying on the wet tarmac so, taking his time because it’s a long way to the ground when you are nearly eighty, he got on his knees and checked for a pulse.
It was there and it was strong. Victor was out cold, which begged Albert perform a basic search for a wound. Expecting to find taser wires in the man’s back or a stun gun mark on his neck, Albert instead found an egg-shaped lump on Victor’s skull. His attackers hadn’t been precious about taking him in one piece; they’d whacked him on the head with something and knocked him out that way.
Albert almost admired the old-school brutality of it. Provided they hadn’t caved his skull in, which Albert didn’t think they had, Victor ought to recover and regain consciousness soon. At least that’s what he told himself with optimism. Sitting back on his heels and feeling very weary, Albert heard sirens in the distance and shouted for his dog.
Rex couldn’t hear his human, there was too much noise where he was as humans came from all over, stopping their cars in the middle of the road to tend to the body in the gutter. He was out of breath, panting hard despite the cool air and his soaked coat. Hans was hurt, his front left paw torn and bleeding, but his attitude had changed.
‘You saved me,’ he said, looking up at Rex. He was holding his front left paw in the air rather than put it down, but he knew it wasn’t badly hurt. When Rex knocked him over, the sudden change in direction ripped the centre pad away from the skin along one side. It was bleeding a lot, but it didn’t hurt half as much as his face. Where the human kicked him, a tooth broke, his upper canine on the right side of his face. That whole side of his head and his shoulder were one big bruise. Adrenalin had carried him through the pain, but now that they were stopped, he could appreciate just how much it hurt. ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ Hans murmured.
Rex lowered his head so it was close to the dachshund’s. ‘It was that right thing to do. As was chasing and tackling the human. I was impressed. You did an amazing job of bringing one down. I wouldn’t have been able to get both by myself.’ Rex was being generous, he thought he probably could have taken them both, but he hadn’t needed to find out and that deserved some praise. Would he have wanted to tackle a fully grown male human if he were the size of a haggis?
Hans limped forward a step on three paws. ‘I’m sorry for what I said about your mother. I’m sure she never got it on with a skunk, a marmoset, and a vacuum cleaner at the same time. I was just being unkind.’
Rex lifted his head to look at what was happening a few yards away. The rain continued to fall, running off the buildings through the gutters and downpipes where it gurgled and spluttered. Sheets of it ran across the pavement which gently sloped toward the road where a stream ran along the edge to vanish into drains. Close to the nearest drain, three humans were kneeling over the broken body of a fourth. Rex didn’t know who it was that he’d been chasing, only that his own human thought it a good idea.
Rex had tried to tell his human about these men while they were in Hans’s house, but maybe now it would be possible to make him listen. Whatever was going on in this town had the two men he and Hans had chased at its centre. The two were reduced to one but the other had escaped. Looking down again, he asked, ‘Can you walk?’
Hans licked his lips and bit his teeth together. ‘I’ll manage. You want to check on your human?’
‘I think we should.’
But as Rex tried to set off, a police car swung into the side road they had chased the men from, cutting off their route and more police were arriving from their rear.
Rex still had his lead attached to his collar. His human had simply let it go when he told him to chase. Hans had lost his at some point complete with his collar, but the police swarmed the two dogs, and before they had a chance to realise what was going on, Hans was scooped into the air and a male police office grabbed Rex’s lead and held on tight.
‘Hey! What are you doing?’ Rex span and pranced, trying to get free.
‘I think this one is hurt,’ said the cop holding Hans. The dachshund had cried out in pain when the cop grabbed him, though it could have been any one of a dozen wounds the cop touched by mistake.
Yet another voice called out to get their attention, this one farther up the side road where he had found Albert in the courtyard. Behind them in the street, paramedics forced their way through to the mess that remained of Eugene and cops attempted to clear the traffic while the rain continued to sheet from the black sky above.
Albert heard Rex coming before he saw him. Or, rather, he heard the poor cop trying to control him swearing at Rex as the headstrong oversized German Shepherd pulled the man along behind him like a kite.
He was cold now and weary, the rainwater soaking his clothes carrying his body heat away faster than he could replenish it. Albert didn’t think it was cold enough out for him to need to worry about hypothermia, but his fingers were numb now and he wasn’t sure he could get up. Cops arrived, followed swiftly by paramedics, everyone getting soaked as the rain refused to let up.
‘Is this your dog, sir?’ asked a male officer. He had hold of Rex but needed to brace and lean the other way to keep the dog in check. Rex wanted to check on his human, the ambivalence he felt toward him earlier, now far from his mind.
Wanting to give the man a break, Albert said, ‘Sit, Rex.’ Which the dog did automatically upon hearing the command. Doing so meant the taut lead went suddenly slack and the poor cop fell on his backside in a puddle much to the amusement of his colleagues. ‘Yes, officer, this is my dog. I’m glad to see he is not hurt. Did he cause an accident?’
‘The cause of the accident remains to be determined, sir.’ It was a new voice that answered, but one which Albert recognised. Turning his head, he found DS Craig looking down at him. Can I ask what you are doing in a dark car park with an injured man, sir?’
He didn’t get an answer, not from Albert at least because a young female paramedic, a pretty girl with short ginger hair and freckles, took a moment from assisting her colleague to get in the detective’s face. ‘You can ask questions later. I need to get both of my patients into the back of the ambulance and to the hospital. One has a suspected concussion and let’s hope it is no worse than that, and Albert here,’ she’d asked his name the moment she knelt down to check on him, ‘needs to get warm before the cold becomes a problem.’
DS Craig held out his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender, making himself look the fool to Albert’s mind, but he chose to answer the man’s question anyway. ‘I am looking into the murder of Joel Clement. Kate Harris didn’t do it.’ It was a bold and challenging statement, one designed to get the attention of all the police officers within earshot. Now that he had that, he continued to explain. ‘The injury to Victor Harris was inflicted by two men who I interrupted in the act of kidnap. They were placing him into this van,’ he pointed a wobbly finger at the non-descript white Ford Transit, ‘when I chanced upon them.’
DS Craig narrowed his eyes. ‘Kate Harris killed Joel Clement to get his half of the Clanger Café. It was simple greed. She has a criminal record for violent crime, plus motive and no alibi. I can assure you, sir, Kate Harris is guilty no matter what you might believe.’
Albert shook his head. The paramedics were getting ready to load Victor onto a gurney. Like Albert, he was soaked right through and would need a complete change of clothing. It would be Albert’s turn next, but he wasn’t done with the detective. ‘You need to find out who the two men here were. They attacked Kate Harris’s brother for a reason. Kidnap is not a random act, Sergeant.’
‘Well one of them is currently very dead,’ DS Craig replied utterly deadpan. ‘The paramedics there worked on him but assure me he is not going to get better any time soon.’ He was making light of the man’s death. If Albert were DS Craig’s superior officer, he would be tearing a strip off him right now. ‘You’re right though. I do need to determine who the man is. If there was indeed a second one, I shall
want to know his identity too. Perhaps Mr Harris will be able to tell me who they are and why they wanted him when he regains consciousness, but my questions for you mostly revolve around whether your dog is dangerous.’
‘What!’ Albert’s lips were going numb, but he was able to blurt his response. ‘You cannot be serious!’
DS Craig’s face was emotionless when he replied. ‘I have blood on the street and though you tell me there were two men, I have only one, he is dead, and he has clearly been bitten by a dog if the paramedics are to be believed.’
It was Hans who bit him, Albert thought. He’d watched the two dogs until they ran out of sight and hadn’t seen Rex bite either of them. He didn’t say that though, he said, ‘They were defending Victor Harris, the victim of an attempted kidnapping, or do you think the dogs were driving the van as part of their crime spree?’
The question drew a snigger from a couple of the cops who got a warning look from DS Craig. He brought his eyes back to Albert’s. ‘What then? The two men who came here to allegedly kidnap Mr Harris are the same men responsible for killing Joe Clement? Why? Are they after the top-secret clanger recipe that only two people in the world know?’ Now it was his turn to make a joke, sharing it with the cops around him who took the bait and chuckled politely. ‘I don’t know who you are, sir, and I don’t much care. Animal services are on their way to collect the dogs. They will be taken care of and if your story checks out, or can be corroborated by Mr Harris, then they will be returned to you.’
Victor was already loaded into the ambulance and now it was Albert’s turn. Albert let them help him to his feet. He was cold, not injured, but far more than either thing, he was angry. The police found Albert kneeling over an injured man. Victor was unconscious, and the cops had a dead body lying in the gutter just a few yards away on the other side of the building. As the only person available to give comment, Albert could be the one responsible for it all. He doubted anyone believed that, but DS Craig sent a cop to the hospital with him anyway.