Deadly Vengeance: A gripping crime thriller full of twists and turns (Detective Jane Phillips Book 3)

by OMJ Ryan

  ‘I must call my boss,’ Entwistle said as he backed out of the room. ‘Once again, thank you. This could be a life-saver. Literally.’ He lurched through the door and out into the long corridor. He immediately pulled his phone from his pocket and called Phillips.

  ‘Entwistle. Tell me you have something,’ she said, her tone eager.

  ‘I do, Guv,’ said Entwistle. ‘I think I know where they’re holding Hollie.’

  32

  Hollie woke with a start and sat upright on the bed. Her heart pounded in her ears, and the back of her neck was soaked with sweat. She had no idea what time it was, but guessed it was somewhere between breakfast and lunch. Mealtimes were now her only reference point each day.

  From beyond the door came raised voices; another argument between the gang. Taking care to not be heard, she climbed out of the bed and tiptoed across the room, where she placed her ear to the ice-cold door. The voices were muffled through the metal and it was difficult to make out which of the gang was speaking at first, but it was obvious they were talking about her.

  ‘Even if he does pay, we’ve got no choice now.’ It was a woman’s voice. Black, thought Hollie, as she continued. ‘Thanks to this bloody idiot, she’s seen my face!’

  ‘Look, I just think we need to look at all the options,’ said another gang member. It sounded like the man who had pointed the gun at Hollie during the ransom video – Red.

  ‘Sorry, Red, but I’m with Black on this.’ Hollie recognised the next man’s sinister tone immediately; White. ‘If we’re gonna get out of this in one piece, the girl has to go.’

  ‘What about you, Blue?’ asked Red.

  ‘Who cares what that stupid fuck thinks,’ shouted Black. ‘He’s the reason we’re in this bloody situation in the first place!’

  There was a moment of silence before Hollie recognised Blue spoke. ‘We don’t kill kids.’

  ‘Oh yeah? And I didn’t think we showed our faces either, but I was wrong about that, wasn’t I?’ said Black.

  ‘Give it a rest, will you? I told you, she caught me off guard,’ Blue shot back.

  ‘I knew he was too old for this job, Red. But you wouldn’t bloody listen, would you?’

  ‘I’ll show you who’s too old, you stupid bitch!’ shouted Blue.

  ‘Come on, then!’ screamed Black.

  Hollie heard as they came together for a moment, before Red broke it up. ‘Pack it in, the pair of you. If we’ve got any chance at pulling this off, we need to stick together, not start fighting with each other. So, can everyone please shut the fuck up, and get on with the job in hand? All right?’

  A muffled chorus of responses filtered through the door, and a moment later, Hollie heard the gang’s footsteps moving away down the corridor.

  Hollie had no idea how much time had passed whilst she sat in silence and stared at the door, overwhelmed by fear. The sound of the lock being released caused her to jump with fright. A moment later, Red entered the room carrying a plate of food.

  Hollie had only spoken to him once before, whilst the gang had filmed the ransom video. He terrified her. Physically, he was much bigger than either Blue or Black. Hollie guessed he was about the same as White. He placed her tray on the table, but she had no interest in food.

  ‘Please don’t kill me,’ she blurted out.

  Red stared at her in silence.

  Hollie continued, ‘I won’t tell anyone I saw the woman’s face. I promise. I’ll never say a word to anybody.’

  Red turned his masked face towards the door, then back to Hollie. ‘What made you say that?’

  ‘I heard you all arguing about the fact I saw her face. White said I had to go, and you said you’d “take care of me”. That means you’re going to kill me when this is all over, doesn’t it?’

  Red took a seat on the bed next to Hollie and spoke in a low whisper. ‘I don’t kill kids, Hollie. You have to believe that.’

  ‘But what if my dad doesn’t pay?’

  ‘He’ll pay,’ said Red, without emotion.

  ‘But what if he doesn’t?’

  ‘You’re his fifteen-year-old daughter. Of course he’ll pay.’

  ‘I’m his stepdaughter, and we don’t get on at all,’ said Hollie, through her tears,

  ‘It can’t be that bad that he’d let you die.’

  Hollie nodded. ‘It is. He’s such a shit to my mum and I won’t let him get away with it. We argue all the time.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll pay,’ repeated Red, then stood up.

  Hollie stared down at the bed and sobbed. ‘I think about dying all the time.’

  Red thrust his hands into the pockets of his black combat trousers. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Fifteen,’ Hollie said as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘Sixteen next month.’

  ‘And you think about dying?’

  Hollie nodded. ‘Sometimes I think it’d be better than my life now.’

  Red let out a sardonic chuckle. ‘Seriously. What fifteen-year-old thinks like that?’

  Hollie flicked the hair away from her face indignantly. ‘You’d be surprised. A lot of girls at my school have talked about suicide.’

  ‘I thought you went to a posh private school?’ said Red. ‘Aren’t all your mates, rich?’

  ‘Sure they are. But it doesn’t mean they’re happy. Most of us have rich parents who are more interested in making money than making time for us.’

  ‘Poor little rich kids, hey?’ said Red, his tone sarcastic.

  ‘Go ahead, make fun of me, but I’d rather be broke and happy than live like I do now.’

  Red laughed hard, which rattled against the mask. ‘What a load of bollocks. You’ve got to be rich in the first place to talk like that. Take it from me; growing up broke is shit. Especially when your parents don’t give a toss either. Trust me, your life ain’t so bad.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about my life!’ shouted Hollie.

  ‘I know a lot more than you think, Hollie Marie Hawkins.’

  Hollie was taken aback by the fact he knew her full name. Nobody knew her middle name.

  ‘We’ve been watching you for a long time,’ said Red. ‘We know your family very well indeed, including all your mother and father’s dirty secrets.’

  Hollie stared at the masked face. ‘Do you mean the fact he hits her? And that he’s cheating on her?’

  Red nodded. ‘Amongst other things.’

  ‘I’ve seen the bruises, you know. On my mum’s arms and back. She tries to hide them, but I’ve caught her coming out of the shower. She’s always saying she fell over, or she slipped playing tennis, but I don’t believe her.’

  Red shook his head. ‘Any man who lays his hands on a woman is a coward.’

  Hollie continued, ‘And I’ve seen the emails he sends to his nasty little sluts. Disgusting sex emails to girls that are just a few years older than me. Telling them what he’d like to do to them in bed. It’s sick.’

  Red’s head cocked to one side slightly. ‘Where have you seen his emails?’

  ‘On his computer. I sneak into his office when he’s not there.’

  ‘Really?’ said Red. 'I would have thought someone like Sir Richard Hawkins would have his computer password-protected?’

  ‘He does,’ said Hollie. ‘He changes it every week. But, because it has to be unique each time, he’s always forgetting what it is. So he writes it down in a notepad that he keeps in his top drawer. He doesn’t know I know it’s there. And when he goes out, I use it to log in and take a look at what he’s been up to. It’s sickening.’

  Red chuckled and stood up again. ‘There’s nothing so cunning as a teenager, is there?’

  Hollie continued, ‘Everything about him is vile; even his business is monstrous.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because he sells guns to terrorists.’

  ‘Why do you think his guns are going to terrorists?’ asked Red.

  ‘Because he’s always taking private planes to
Islamabad. He never tells me or mum where he’s going – says it’s confidential government stuff – but I’ve seen loads of emails and flight details from the jet operator he uses. I also saw an email from a security company he pays a lot of money to, to take him to Peshawar.’

  ‘Does he now?’

  Hollie nodded. ‘Yeah he does. And do you know what’s in Peshawar?’

  Red didn’t answer.

  ‘The Taliban headquarters in Pakistan,’ Hollie said proudly. ‘I googled it.’

  ‘Well, well, well. Maybe the rumours are true, then?’ said Red.

  ‘What rumours?’

  ‘Exactly what you just said. That your father has been selling guns to the Taliban in Afghanistan, via Pakistan. He's denied it for years, but the British military have been finding his munitions in Taliban compounds all over Afghanistan. He claims they must have been passed on, after he sold them legitimately to the Saudi and Pakistan governments, but I’ve always been sure that’s a lie.’

  ‘All my father ever does is lie. All day, every day.’

  By the time Entwistle called, Jones and Bovalino had searched two derelict buildings in Gorton. Armed with the additional information, they narrowed their search to the immediate vicinity of Gorton Monastery. There were two specific buildings Bovalino remembered from his childhood, so they decided to check those out first.

  Bovalino pulled the squad car up next to the first building. A former workhouse, it had also been a warehouse, a factory and eventually an illegal nightclub before finally being abandoned and left to decay. Located off the main drag, its large second-floor windows – some of which sat in the shadow of Gorton Monastery – made it a strong contender for the location where the ransom video had been filmed. As the car stopped, Jones leaned forwards in his seat and surveyed the building.

  ‘Should we wait for back-up, Jonesy?’ asked Bovalino.

  ‘Nar, mate. Let’s have a look around first. If we see anything dodgy, we can get TFU in. I don’t fancy calling in the tactical team if the place is empty. We’ll never live it down.’

  ‘Good point,’ Bovalino said as he opened his car door.

  Once out of the car, they collected a heavy-duty torch each from the boot, then followed the high wall round to the rear of the building, where they found the old wooden entrance gates standing slightly ajar. They stopped for a moment and Jones took a tentative look through the gap in the large hinge.

  ‘Looks clear,’ he said, then beckoned for Bovalino to follow him through the gates.

  A few moments later, as they stood outside the entrance. Bovalino tried the door handle; it was locked up tight.

  Jones craned his neck back to survey the structure. ‘Does anyone actually own this place, Bov?’

  ‘I dunno. It was on the market for years, but the For Sale sign seems to have disappeared.’

  ‘In that case, do you think anyone would mind if we kick the door in?’ Jones had a knowing grin.

  Bovalino tapped his torch on the rotting wooden frame. ‘Looks like it needs replacing to me, Jonesy. And if it helps save a young girl’s life, I’m sure any owners would understand.’

  Jones nodded. ‘Off you go then, big lad. Do what you do best.’

  Bovalino smiled and took a step back, then turned his body at an angle so his shoulder would lead the way. A split second later, he ran headlong at the ancient door. It was no match for the big Italian’s size and speed, and splintered open at the first attempt.

  Inside, two corridors led off the central entrance hall in opposite directions.

  ‘You take that side,’ Jones said as he switched on his torch, ‘I’ll take this. Shout if you find anything.’

  Bovalino nodded. ‘Will do.’

  Red had turned to leave when the door to Hollie’s room flew open and Black rushed in. ‘The silent alarms going off,’ she said. ‘We’ve got company.’

  Red grabbed Hollie by the arm. ‘Come with me.’ He pulled her up from the chair and they followed Black out of the room.

  Out in the corridor, Red handed Hollie to Black. ‘How the hell did they find us?’

  ‘God knows.’

  ‘How many are there?’

  ‘Two. One in the east wing, and one just on the other side of the wall.’

  Hollie didn’t need any encouragement. ‘I’m in here!’ she screamed. ‘Help me!’

  ‘Shut up, you silly little bitch,’ Black snarled in a low voice as she wrapped a gloved hand over Hollie’s mouth and pushed Hollie’s arm painfully up her back.

  ‘You and the guys, head to the ERV,’ Red said. ‘I’ll meet you there later. Right now, I’ve got a job to do.’

  Black nodded, then dragged Hollie down the corridor. Blue and White stood ahead of them, armed and ready.

  Bovalino arced his flashlight and carefully checked each empty room as he passed along the dark corridor. With no windows on the ground floor, the space was almost pitch black but for a few shafts of light streaming through holes in the dilapidated brick walls. As he approached the last door, he noticed it looked as though it had been recently repaired. New hinges and a hook for a padlock had been added, although the padlock itself was not in place. His pulse began to quicken as he reached for the door handle and gently pushed it open, then stepped into the dark room beyond.

  Holding his torch like a spear, he scanned the space. The flashlight revealed what appeared to be an old storage room, relatively empty aside from a few dusty old drums of what looked like engine oil, or some kind of lubricant. Bovalino tapped lightly on the side of one of the drums. It was pretty much empty. He inspected it with his flashlight, and it was then that he noticed an oily boot print on the floor. Moving closer, he realised it was fresh. Adrenaline coursed through his body, and his heart began to beat like a drum in his head.

  In spite of his considerable height and physical ability, Bovalino knew the guys they were hunting were more than likely highly trained ex-military – with the added risk of weapons – whereas he and Jones were just a couple of coppers with a flashlight each. The absurdity of his situation hit home, and he reached for his phone to call in the Firearms team. A noise from behind startled him.

  Acting on instinct, he spun on his heels, torch in his hand, and came face to face with a man wearing a mask. He opened his mouth to shout for Jones, but his words were silenced as the masked man rushed him and slammed shoulder-first into Bovalino’s solar plexus. The impact took his breath away and he dropped to the floor like a stone. In an instant, the masked man was upon him, wrapping muscular arms around Bovalino’s neck and legs around his torso. Bovalino tried to cry out for Jones once more, but the man’s grip on his throat prevented him making any noise.

  A moment later, Bovalino was pulled onto his back in a move he recognised from his time in the octagon as a mixed martial arts hold. The masked man was soon underneath him, and used Bovalino’s considerable weight against him. Black dots began to appear in his vision as the breath was squeezed out of him. He knew he had to make a move or die.

  Mustering every ounce of strength he could, he raised his head, then slammed it backwards onto the man’s mask. He repeated the move over and over until, finally, the mask dislodged. His attacker let go for a split second and Bovalino seized the moment. He rolled his heavy body to the side and jumped to his feet. The masked man was soon back on his feet, but struggling to refit the mask. Bovalino charged at him, wrapped his thick arms around the man and lifted him off his feet, then slammed him down onto the floor, using his twenty stone to crush his attacker, who – clearly winded – gasped for air.

  Bovalino grabbed at the mask and yanked it off.

  Staring back at him was a face he recognised. ‘Fuck. It’s you!’ Bovalino exclaimed as he grabbed the man’s arms and held them against the ground.

  A heavy kick to the groin stopped Bovalino in his tracks and he fell forwards onto the floor in agony.

  In an instant, the masked man was out from under him and back on his feet.

  By the time
Bovalino had pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, his attacker had replaced his mask and headed out of the door.

  Bovalino struggled to his feet and gave chase. ‘Jonesy! I’ve got him!’ he shouted as he lunged out into the corridor.

  Much to Bovalino’s surprise, Bovalino’s assailant headed upstairs instead of back towards the exit.

  Just then, Jones sprinted into the corridor.

  ‘He’s gone upstairs, Jonesy. I’m going after him,’ Bovalino said, his voice echoing around the space.

  ‘Wait for back-up, Bov!’ shouted Jones.

  Bovalino chose to ignore his partner. If he could catch the masked man, it might just save Hollie’s life, so he set off, taking the steps two at a time.

  Bovalino could hear the man climbing higher and higher. Behind, Jonesy was trying to catch up.

  As he reached the top floor, Bovalino found himself bathed in sunlight from a large window to his left. He found he had a clear view of the entire floor. Ahead of him, the masked man had stopped, and appeared to be trapped, his only exit point behind where Bovalino now stood. ‘Give yourself up!’ said Bovalino, his words echoing around the open space.

  The masked man didn’t respond. Instead, he swivelled left and ran directly towards one of the metal pillars that held up the roof. With the speed of a monkey, he used the protruding rivets to climb the metal structure, and a moment later he was up on the beam that ran across the apex of the cavernous pitched roof, at least thirty feet above the ground. It appeared he was heading towards a hole in the roof where a skylight had once been.

  Bovalino ran after him and attempted to climb the metal pillar himself. However, his large, wide feet struggled to gain traction against the rivets, and it was with some difficulty that he eventually reached the apex beam. By now, the masked man had already moved halfway across, and positioned himself under the broken skylight.

  ‘Bov! Stop!’ Jones shouted when he arrived at the top of the stairs. ‘You’ll bloody kill yourself.’