“I’d prefer you stay here.”
Dannel stared at the man. “They went after Ossie, not me. I can’t sit on my arse while he’s in danger.”
The next thirty minutes went by so quickly yet dragged on painfully at the same time. The detectives managed to track Osian on CCTV cameras. With another word of warning, they headed out, leaving a solitary constable in the hallway.
“I can’t just stand here.” Dannel paced the flat anxiously in what small space was left with the gathered crowd. “I’m going to see my uncle.”
“You’re not supposed to leave, sir.”
Dannel stared at the young constable, raising his eyebrow. “I’ll be in the shop downstairs, unless you intend to arrest me.”
“Sir.”
Ignoring the constable, Dannel jogged down the stairs. He didn’t glance behind him to see who had followed. His uncle was scanning through CCTV footage when he stepped into the office at the back of the shop.
“Dan, sweetheart.” His auntie came over to wrap him tightly in a hug. “We’ve called your mum and Osian’s mum. They’re waiting anxiously together. Now, how can we help?”
“Which way did he go?” Dannel gently extracted himself from his auntie. He didn’t want physical contact. The world already felt as though it was closing in on him. “Uncle Danny.”
“I shouldn’t.” His uncle hesitated before playing the video of Osian heading down the street with a jaunty Thames trotting at his feet. “He had to be heading toward Phoenix Garden.”
“Thank you.”
Without another word, Dannel rushed out of the shop. He jogged down the street, not knowing what he expected to find. It just helped to be doing something.
“Will you slow down?”
“No.”
“We don’t all have long legs,” Abra complained.
Adjusting his pace slightly, Dannel waited for Abra, Evie, and Drystan to catch up with him. He wasn’t overly surprised to see Osian’s brother-in-law had decided to join them. Olivia had stayed behind.
“She’s organising search groups with your fire chief.” Drystan grinned at him. “You know my Olivia. She’ll have Covent Garden completely covered by searchers in under five seconds.”
Dannel didn’t have it in him to smile. He simply nodded and picked up his pace again, only stopping when they arrived at the main entrance. “We’ll split up and scour the garden. Evie, with me?”
His best friend immediately stepped over to him. She reached down to take his hand. “We’ll find him.”
“No lying.” Dannel didn’t want to believe the worst but knew the odds might not be in their favour. “How many close calls do we get before someone else winds up like Gemma?”
“Chris has gone missing, as well. Could they be together?” Evie took one side of the walking path, and Dannel took the other. Their eyes scanned the ground for any clues. “They’re both capable of defending themselves.”
“Chris’s presence might be comforting or terrifying. The jury’s still out.” Dannel wanted to believe their friend had been truthful with them. He wasn’t always the best person to sniff out a liar. “Gemma had a black belt. She knew how to defend herself. Knowledge and ability aren’t always a guarantee.”
“I’m trying to think happy thoughts.”
Dannel squeezed between two bushes to check along the edge of the wrought iron fencing. “Think happy thoughts quietly, then. If I don’t get my hopes up, it might not hurt so much when everything comes crashing down.”
“Dan.”
He waved off Evie’s concern and crouched down to peer through two of the iron rods. “What’s that?”
Evie joined him by the fence. “I don’t see anything.”
“Over there by the red door.” Dannel pointed to the building adjacent to the garden. “Is that a phone? The case looks like Ossie’s.”
“Shit.”
Racing through the garden to the side entrance, they skidded to a stop by the phone. Evie stopped him from picking it up and immediately called one of the detectives. She didn’t want them to destroy any potential fingerprint or DNA evidence.
In case they needed it to identify a killer.
It was her unspoken reason. Dannel tried very hard not to follow her train of thought to the logical conclusion. They waited impatiently for the police to arrive.
“There’s another one.” Dannel pointed to a glinting screen a few feet away. “Wonder if it’s Chris’s phone.”
“Easy way to tell.” Abra and Drystan had caught up to them. She pulled her own mobile out and dialled Chris’s number. They waited with bated breath and collectively groaned when a familiar Star Wars tune rang out. “Oh, god. Someone kidnapped both of them.”
“Or Chris tossed his to keep the GPS from being tracked.” Drystan said what Dannel had been thinking. Abra punched him on the arm. “You can’t assume innocence based on an abandoned phone.”
Dannel sat on the ground with his back to the wall. He couldn’t stop staring at Osian’s phone. “Ossie’s too careful to drop his mobile. And he’d never leave Thames to walk home on his own.”
The police arrived, disrupting the conversation. Detective Inspector Khan frowned disapprovingly at Dannel, who ignored him. He pulled a glove onto his hand and then picked up Osian’s phone.
“Do you know the passcode?” he asked after trying to turn it on. “Let’s make sure this is the right phone.”
“It’s my birthday.” Dannel gave it to the man. “I’ll make him change it.”
“I’m hurt you don’t trust us to not take advantage.” Abra tried to lighten the mood. Her smile evaporated when the passcode worked. “Damn. I’d hoped it wasn’t his phone.”
31
Osian
Waking up with a splitting headache wasn’t an entirely new experience for Osian. He’d worked long hours as a paramedic after all. That his wrists had been secured together with a plastic cable tie was a first.
“What the sodding hell is going on?” He groaned.
“Keep your voice down.”
“I was.” Osian tried to sit up and assess the situation. He’d been lying on his side on a hard concrete floor. “Chris? That you?”
Rolling over, Osian carefully eased himself up into a seated position. He leaned back against a wall to keep from tipping over again. His head was pounding, and waves of dizziness kept threatening to cause him to fall over.
“Over here.”
“Helpful.” Osian squinted in the badly lit room—even the minimal light seemed too bright for him—eventually spotting his friend secured to a radiator. “How stereotypical of them.”
“Now do you believe me?”
“Is this really the time for an ‘I told you so,’ Chris? Wanker.” Osian tried to carefully assess his body for any injuries. He breathed through a bout of nausea. “Are you hurt? How did we get here?”
“You sent me a message to meet you at the park. When I arrived, you were on the ground. The little dog you were walking took off. Joel and Georgina were there. I tried to talk them down, but I didn’t want to risk you getting struck again.” Chris kept his voice low and kept shooting glances toward the door at the far end of the room. “I figured we had a better chance of survival together.”
“I didn’t send you a message.” Osian repeated his question since Chris hadn’t answered. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. More concerned about you.”
“I definitely have a concussion.” Osian had treated enough of them to be well-versed on the symptoms. “Why haven’t they simply killed us?”
“Careful what you wish for,” he muttered. “Can you get your hands free?”
Osian stared down at the plastic tie securing his wrists together. “No?”
“Listen. Here’s what I need you to do.” Chris tried yanking at the handcuffs securing him to the radiator. “Twist your wrists so they’re pressed together. Grab the free end of the tie with your teeth and tighten it as far as you can.”
�
��Tighten it?”
“Trust me, please?” Chris whispered urgently. “We don’t have much time.”
“All right, all right.”
They kept a close eye on the door while Osian tried to shift his wrists around. He managed to get a hold of the edge of the tie with his teeth and yank on it. They held their breaths when they heard raised voices.
“Shit. What next?”
“Raise your hands over your head, widen your elbows out as far as you can get them, and bring your arms down with all the force you can muster. You want your wrists to put a strain against the plastic, so pull your arms out.” Chris shifted again, pulling himself up slightly. “It might hurt.”
Bugger.
I have to do this.
I can do this.
Bugger.
“Go on,” Chris encouraged.
“Right.” Osian used all the force he could muster to thrust his arms down. “Holy mother of spies. It worked.”
“Holy mother of spies?”
“I’m dizzy. Leave me alone.” Osian stared down at the broken plastic. “But seriously, were you some kind of secret agent in a second life and didn’t bother to tell me? Should I be cosplaying as you instead of Nathan Drake?”
“Breathe through the adrenaline.” Chris ignored his whispered rambling, which was probably a good idea. “How are your wrists doing?”
It did hurt. Not as bad as his head whenever he moved even an inch. He flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists, trying to regain feeling and ease the sting from snapping the plastic tie.
“Oz? Your wrists?” Chris prompted when he fell silent. “Can you come over here?”
“They’re doing better than my head.” Osian tried to get to his feet, but his legs buckled. His vision swam. “Bugger. Definitely concussed.”
Staying on his knees, Osian shuffled slowly across the room. He fought off another bout of nausea. Moving was not helping.
“Osian?”
“Shh.” Osian sat on his heels and covered his ears. He knew Chris had kept his voice low, but it felt as though he were shouting. “Unless you want whatever’s in my stomach all over you. How long have we been captive?”
“We need to get you to the hospital.” Chris lowered his voice even further.
“Well, sure, let’s just walk out of here. Oh, wait. You’re handcuffed to a sodding radiator. There are two murderous wankers on the other side of the door. And I can’t even get to my feet without the room spinning,” Osian snarked. He reached to carefully feel around his head, checking for the sore spot and for any blood. “Don’t you have any handy tricks for getting yourself free?”
“You don’t happen to have a hairpin? Or a paperclip?”
“Oh, sure.” Osian rolled his eyes, then regretted it immediately. “I always carry around paperclips.”
“Why don’t you see if you can find a bit of wire or a piece of metal—something the size of a paperclip?” Chris kept watching him with concern obvious in his eyes. “Your pupils are dilated.”
“Differently sized? Or equally dilated?”
“Equally.”
“Let me know if they change.” Osian knew his pupils being dilated wasn’t necessarily directly related to his head injury. They needed to keep an eye on it. Pun intended. “I definitely need to get to the hospital.”
Glancing around the room, Osian spotted a pile of rubbish. He made his way over to it. Who just throws their bags of trash into their basement? The same wankers who take people hostage.
“Careful.”
And by careful, Osian knew Chris meant quiet. Their captors were still arguing upstairs. He kept an ear out just in case the raised voices stopped.
Or came closer.
Digging through the trash was almost too much for his already wobbly tummy. Osian foraged in the rubbish and came out with a pen, two bent paperclips, and a strip of metal about the length of his finger. He hoped Chris could play MacGyver and rescue himself.
Osian shuffled his way over to him and offered up his bounty on the palm of his hand. “Okay, Houdini.”
“He died trying to escape.”
“Hope we have better luck than he did.” Osian wanted to lie down and close his eyes. He knew staying awake was critically important. “What now?”
Chris took the thin strip of metal and folded it in half. He slipped it into one of the cuffs, along the rim, pushing it forward with the restraint, which clicked. “There. First one down. Let me get the second off me.”
“What the—” Osian stared at him in disbelief. “You’re teaching me how to do that when we get out of here. Wicked party trick. You’re two for two. This is the worst escape room in history.”
“They’re going to stop arguing eventually.” Chris had gotten to his feet. He pocketed the cuffs and walked slowly around the room. “Can you swing a weapon?”
“What about my inability to stand makes you think I’m capable of defending myself?”
“We’re not dying in a dank basement. So you might have to.” Chris dug around in the trash, coming out with the remnants of a broken mop. He found a second one in the corner. “I have an idea.”
“This is usually the point in crime shows where everything goes horribly wrong.” Osian tried to stand again. He managed with less of a wobble. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to bank on them being inexperienced.” Chris looped an arm around Osian and helped him over to the door. “Crouch by here. We’re going to play on the element of surprise. If you can trip up the second person to enter, I’m confident I can disarm the first. We want extra time to avoid dealing with them simultaneously.”
“Glad someone’s confident.”
Movies and television made suspense-filled moments intense, with sweeping musical scores and dramatic cinematography. Osian thought they definitely needed drums and a full orchestra. He also wanted to be played by someone in better shape who knew some form of self-defence.
They’d also failed to prepare him for how boring waiting for the baddies could be. Osian was struggling to keep his eyes open. He kept himself awake by singing his favourite Hamilton song under his breath.
“They’ve stopped arguing,” Chris whispered. He’d taken a spot on the other side of the door. “Stay awake, Oz.”
“Doing my best.”
Voices drew closer. Osian didn’t recognise either the man or the woman. He’d only heard Joel Brown once before and couldn’t recall having heard Georgina; he had no memory of being attacked by them at the park.
The door creaked open. If they’d been in a horror film, Osian thought this would’ve been the moment when the monster revealed themselves for the first time. He stayed hidden in the darkness and watched Georgina move down the stairs.
When Joel followed a second later, Osian managed to hold out the broken broom in time to trip him up. The man catapulted off the steps. He went headfirst, tumbling straight into the back of Georgina, sending them both crashing to the floor on top of each other. A comedic end to what had been a terrifying wait.
Osian wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. “Think they’re more Mr Bean than serial killers.”
“We’re not free yet,” Chris cautioned. He held his cuffs loosely in one hand and went for Joel. “Keep an eye on her.”
Showing an impressive amount of skill and familiarity with restraint, Chris had Joel on his stomach with his wrists cuffed behind his back within a second. Osian got unsteadily to his feet and leaned against the wall. Georgina had managed to roll away from her partner in crime and surged up as well.
“You bastard.” She lunged toward him.
Osian squinted at her. Her shouting was only serving to make his headache worse. “Chris.”
“I’ve got her.” He left Joel on the ground and intercepted Georgina before she reached Osian. “What were you thinking? Josie would never have wanted you to do this.”
“Me?” Georgina swung at Chris, who easily deflected her punch. “I told him we should’ve brought the
gun down with us. He wanted to gloat.”
“Villains.” Osian shook his head. He smiled when Chris glared at him. “What? Every bad guy in every movie has to gloat.”
Chris ignored him and focused on Georgina. “What was the grand plan? Kill both of us? What on earth possessed you?”
“They murdered my sister. Even if you didn’t love her enough to make them pay, I did. Joel did. His poor wife. What about her?” Georgina continued to struggle in his grasp. “I thought you understood.”
“My Josie died in a tragic accident. Nothing Osian or any of the paramedics did or didn’t do could’ve changed anything. The accident caused her death. Not them. You don’t get to turn her passing into some bizarre crusade.” Chris grabbed her arms more tightly, holding her away from him when she tried for a kick. “Oz? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah?” Osian forced his eyes open. He was really starting to struggle to stay conscious. “Chris? I think I need to sit down. My head’s hurting worse.”
And this would be the stage when I rushed a patient to the hospital.
Staying upright seemed an almost impossible task. Osian tried to lock his knees. He didn’t want to pass out on Chris, leaving him alone with Georgina and Joel.
“Oz? One of us needs to head upstairs to try to call the police. They have to be searching for us by now. These two aren’t clever enough to have covered their tracks completely.” Chris came closer, holding Georgina away from Osian, since she continued to struggle. “Hey. Osian. Focus on my voice.”
“I’m not going toward the light.” Osian sat down heavily when the room began spinning more than it had earlier. “Not good. Very much, not good.”
“Osian.” Chris snapped his fingers repeatedly. “Oz.”
Osian tried hard to keep his eyes open. He tilted his head to the side when the nausea become too much for him. “Chris. Where’s the ambulance?”
“Just hang on, yeah? You’re going to be fine. We need to call the police to let them know where we are.”
32
Dannel
Cosplay Killer Page 16