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

by OMJ Ryan

  Phillips inspected it. It had not burnt completely, but was almost brown. It contained more numbers. ‘Write these down. It’s either 1-9-6-5, or Sierra 9-6-1.’

  Entwistle scribbled in his pad.

  ‘Read them back to me,’ said Phillips as she pulled up the browser on her phone.

  ‘Ok. Sierra Juliet 8-1-1 9-6-5,’ said Entwistle.

  Phillips keyed in the coordinates and read out the locations. ‘This one refers to an address in Trafford Park.’

  Entwistle continued, and read out the next set of coordinates, ‘Sierra-Juliet 8-1-S 9-6-1.’

  ‘That one doesn’t exist,’ said Phillips a second later. She then flicked back to the results of the first search, and zoomed into the map. She turned her phone so Entwistle and Jones could see what she was looking at. ‘Looks like an unused building near Pomona, to me.’

  ‘Which would fit with the gang’s MO so far,' said Jones.

  Phillips felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her body. ‘I don’t want to speak too soon, guys, but we might just have found where they’re holding Hollie.’

  44

  Hollie could hear the change in the gang’s mood through the walls of her new room, which were much thinner than at the last place. This morning she could hear laughter and banter being thrown around. She pressed her ear to the flimsy wooden door to hear what was being said.

  ‘So, what are you gonna do with your share, Blue?’ said one of the gang. ‘Off to Thailand to get yourself a Thai bride?’

  ‘Piss off!’ replied Blue. Hollie recognised his accent.

  Her father must have paid the ransom money. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all? She continued to listen, and could hear the sounds of boxes being packed up and bags being zipped.

  ‘What about you, Red?’ one asked, but it was hard to distinguish who was speaking.

  ‘I’m gonna get a long way from here – and from you lot,’ came the reply, accompanied by a chuckle. ‘No offence, like. But if I ever see any of you again, it means something went badly wrong! So how about you?’

  The next voice Hollie heard, she recognised as White’s. ‘Australia, I reckon. Got a sister down there.’

  ‘The Dominican Republic for me,’ said a woman’s voice – Black. ‘There’s no extradition treaty with the UK, so I don’t have worry about Special Branch turning up at my beach party!’

  Laughter erupted and the banter continued for a few more minutes, but it became harder to hear what was being said as they banged, dragged and pushed things around on other side of the door.

  Sometime later, through the small frosted-glass window on the wall opposite her makeshift bed, Hollie heard voices outside. Then an eerie silence descended. She pressed her ear to the door, but could hear nothing. Hollie dragged the small plastic chair she’d been given over to the window and stood on the seat. The window had a small hole in the bottom corner, about the size of a pound coin, which allowed her to see and hear what was going on outside. As she peered through, she could see the gang – all still wearing their masks, which made them easier for her to identify – in the process of packing four cars full of heavy bags. They worked in silence for a few minutes until there was no more bags, then closed the boots on each car.

  ‘That’s it, then,’ said Blue.

  ‘That’s it,’ replied Red.

  In turn, each of the gang embraced.

  ‘What about the girl?’ asked Black.

  ‘You leave her to me,’ said Red. ‘I’ll finish it.’

  Hollie’s heart rate spiked as she heard those words.

  ‘You guys get going,’ Red continued.

  ‘You sure you’re up to it, Red?’ asked Black. ‘I can do it, if not.’

  Hollie stared out as Red placed his hand on Black’s shoulder. ‘You don’t have to worry. Trust me, I’ll take care of it. Now go on. You guys get yourselves away, and forget Hollie Hawkins ever existed.’

  Blue, Black and White nodded in unison and pulled off their masks, but Hollie’s limited view meant all she could see was the backs of their heads. They each jumped into a car and drove away in turn. Hollie continued to peer out through the window as Red – still wearing his mask – watched the rest of the gang leave. When they had disappeared from view, he walked to his car, opened the boot and pulled out a large black leather holdall. He unzipped it, checked the contents, then closed the boot and headed back inside with the bag.

  Panic engulfed Hollie. Red had lied. He was coming to kill her. She jumped down from the chair, picked it up and clutched it in both hands. Then she moved next to the wall, so she would be hidden by the door when it opened. Red’s footsteps drew closer, echoing through the old building. Her heart beat like a drum in her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her chest heaved as she fought to keep control of her breathing.

  As the key turned in the lock, Hollie’s whole body tightened. She lifted the chair as high in the air as she could, and waited. The door opened, shielding her from Red. As soon as he came into view, she screamed, and brought the chair down hard onto his back.

  Red fell forwards but didn’t go down. Instead, he turned, grabbed the chair and threw it across the room. Hollie made for the open door, but he was too quick and way too strong. He gripped his thick fingers around her arms and pulled her back into the room.

  She kicked out as she tried to get away. ‘Let me go! Please, let me go,’ she screamed. ‘I swear I won’t tell anyone, anything. Just let me go!’

  ‘Shut the fuck up!’ Red shouted as he wrapped his left arm around her body and his right hand over her mouth. He dragged her over to the bed, threw her down, then used his considerable weight to trap her arms against the mattress on either side of her head.

  45

  Trafford Park is a heavily industrialised suburb five miles west of Manchester city centre. The building they were looking for was situated near Pomona. Following the grid reference, Phillips soon located a disused brick factory. When they arrived, she instructed Jones to park the car at a safe distance, underneath a railway arch that offered good cover whilst giving them a clear view of their surrounds. The building itself was typical of the area – red brick, with a slate roof and very few windows. Like the old workhouse, it too had fallen into some disrepair.

  From their vantage point, they could see a car parked up outside – a ten-year-old Ford Fiesta. Entwistle checked its registration against the DVLA database.

  ‘That’s odd,’ said Entwistle. ‘It says here that the owner of that Fiesta is a Mable Tunnercliffe from Withington, who’s eighty-one’

  ‘And it’s not been reported stolen?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘No, Guv. But it looks like it just passed its MOT in July.’

  ‘Could be a clone vehicle,’ said Jones.

  ‘What’s a clone vehicle?’ asked Entwistle.

  Phillips answered, ‘It’s when a car is stolen and given the plates of an identical, but legally owned, vehicle. It means that ANPR cameras don’t flag them as nicked or using false plates.’

  ‘Clever idea,’ said Entwistle.

  ‘Yeah. As soon as we come up with a system to catch them, the villains find a way to beat it,’ said Jones.

  Phillips sat in silence for a moment and surveyed the factory as she worked out what to do next. She opened the door and got out of the car. ‘I’m gonna get a closer look.’

  Jones tried to reply, but she shut the door before he had chance.

  A few minutes later, as a bitter wind blew into her face, Phillips crept across the ancient cobbled yard to where the Fiesta was parked. As she moved next to it, she placed her hand over the bonnet. It was cold.

  The entrance to the building was not visible from where she stood, so she moved round the corner to get a better look. The main door was ajar, and the faint sound of voices came from somewhere inside the building. She crept closer and peered inside, but it was pitch black. She was tempted to go in, but with her chequered history of walking into danger alone, she thought better of it and decided t
o head back to the car and call in the TFU.

  As she moved back across the yard, she noticed several tyre tracks in the mud to the side of the cobbles, leading towards the main road. She knelt to get a closer look. They were fresh and, based on the different tyre treads, likely belonged to different cars. If she was right, at least two cars had driven away from this place very recently.

  Phillips half ran back to the squad car but was careful to stay out of sight. She jumped in the front passenger seat and attempted to catch her breath.

  Jones wasted no time in reprimanding her. ‘Seriously, Guv. After what happened to Bov, you need to be more careful. If you don’t stop bloody running into trouble on your own, they’ll be sending me down – for murder.’

  Phillips waved him away. ‘Never mind all that. There are people in there. I couldn’t see anyone, but I heard their voices. We need to call in Firearms.’

  Jones shook his head, then picked up the radio and called control.

  Hollie stared up at the man she knew as Red. His masked face looked back at her. Her hands were still trapped in his tight grip, one on each side of her head.

  ‘If you promise not to attack me again – or try to run away – I’ll release your hands and let you up. Is that a deal?’ he said.

  Hollie nodded. True to his word, Red let go and stepped back. He picked up the chair from the other side of the room and placed it next to the bed.

  Hollie sat upright. ‘You’ve come to kill me, haven’t you? Because I saw her face.’

  Red shook his head. ‘I told you, Hollie, I don’t kill kids.’

  ‘Liar!’ said Hollie, as she began to cry. ‘I heard you talking outside. You told them you were going to “finish it”. That they should forget I ever existed. That means you’re going to kill me!’

  ‘That's not what I meant, Hollie.’

  She was sobbing now. ‘I heard you!’

  Red sighed heavily. ‘Look, Hollie. I told the guys what they wanted to hear. If they think that means I’m going to kill you, then so be it. By the time they find out I didn’t, it’ll be too late to do anything. Soon Black will be on a beach far away from here, and trust me, there’s no way she’s ever coming back to the UK.’

  ‘But what about Blue and White?’

  ‘As long as they have enough time to get out of the country, they won’t care what happens to you. I meant what I said, Hollie, I won’t kill kids – or anyone who’s innocent, for that matter.’

  Hollie stopped crying. ‘So you’re letting me go, then?’

  ‘In time, yes. But first, I need to make sure I’m safely away from here when they find you.’

  ‘When who finds me?’

  ‘The police,’ said Red. ‘Once I’m out of the country, I’ll let them know where you are. And you’ll be free to go. Look, wait here.’ He stood and left the room for a moment, then returned with the black leather holdall bag Hollie had seen him remove from his car. He dropped it on the bed in front of her. ‘Open it.’

  Hollie shuffled forwards and unzipped the bag.

  ‘There’s sandwiches, water, chocolate and magazines. It should be enough to keep you fed, watered and entertained for the next twelve hours. By then, I’ll be long gone. An email will land in your dad’s inbox, telling him where he can find you.’

  Hollie’s whole body softened. ‘So I really am going home?’

  Red touched her wrist gently with his gloved hand. ‘Yes, you are.’

  Hollie exhaled with relief, and giggled. ‘I feel a bit bad, now.’

  ‘What for?’ asked Red.

  ‘For hitting you with the chair.’

  Red rubbed the back of his head for a moment. ‘Yeah. I certainly wasn’t expecting that when I walked in. That was a good shot, by the way.’

  ‘I’m not as weak as people think.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re weak at all, Hollie,’ said Red. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact.’

  Hollie felt herself blush.

  ‘That’s why I think you should have this.’ He passed her a handwritten note.

  Hollie took it and stared at the words on the page: OPERATION VOGUE.

  ‘If you ever get to a point where you’ve had enough of dealing with Sir Richard’s bullshit and want him out of your – and your mother’s – lives for good, google that,’ said Red. ‘It was an operation in Afghanistan where a lot of good men died. British soldiers were killed by the Taliban who – as it turned out – were using machine guns, mortars and rocket launchers manufactured and sold by your father – illegally. He’s always said the munitions were sold legitimately to the Pakistani government, who must have then passed them on to the Taliban. But personally, I’m sure that’s total bullshit.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I know your father well enough, and I know he’s lying. The problem is, I can’t prove it. But if you can access his emails like you say, then I’m sure you could find a trail that proves I’m right. Believe me, if that kind of information ever got out into the public domain, it would ruin him.’

  Hollie swallowed hard and continued to stare at the words on the page. Her mind raced at the thought of exposing her stepfather for what he really was: a liar, a cheat, an abuser. It was an exhilarating thought, but one that also terrified her. If she exposed him, her life, and that of her mother, would never be the same again.

  ‘Or alternatively, you can forget we ever had this conversation,’ said Red. ‘It’s up to you, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did; you’ve got a lot to lose.’

  Hollie nodded, lost in her thoughts.

  ‘Look. All I’m saying is, I’m certain the proof is out there. If you can find it and share it, then your stepdad’s finished,’ said Red.

  Phillips, Jones and Entwistle maintained their watch on the building as they waited for TFU.

  Phillips drummed her fingers on her kneecap as she struggled to manage the nervous energy building inside her. ‘How long ’til Firearms arrives?’

  Jones checked his watch. ‘Another eight minutes, Guv.’

  Just then, a car pulled off the main drag and moved slowly along the battered, muddy track towards the old building.

  ‘Looks like we’ve got company,’ said Phillips.

  ‘What’s the make, model and registration?’ asked Entwistle. ‘I’ll run a check on it.’

  ‘Red, Vauxhall Corsa. Registration, Yankee Alpha 09, Charlie Echo Tango,’ said Jones.

  A minute passed before Entwistle pulled up the results. ‘Looks like it could be another clone vehicle. This one is registered to Derek Whitehall who lives in Northenden. He’s eighty-three. Again, no report of it being stolen.’

  Up ahead, the Corsa slowed to a stop next to the Fiesta and a woman in black fatigues got out. She carried something in her right hand that appeared to be a handgun. She moved quickly and was soon out of sight, heading towards the entrance to the building.

  ‘Looks like it could be Spencer,’ said Jones, ‘and she’s tooled up.’

  ‘Where the hell are the TFU?’ Phillips grabbed the radio. ‘This is Delta 4. I need an urgent ETA on the TFU we requested at the old brickworks in Pomona. We have a possible suspect on site, potentially in possession of a firearm.’

  Silence filled the car as she waited for a response.

  ‘Delta 4. This is control. TFU is six minutes out.’

  ‘Six minutes? They could be long gone by then!’ said Phillips. She slammed the radio against the dash, then reached for the door handle. ‘Sod it. I’m going in.’

  Jones’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist like a vice. He stared her straight in the eye. ‘No, Guv. Not again.’

  Phillips felt herself recoil. She’d never seen Jones look so determined.

  He continued. ‘No heroics on this one. That’s what you said at Baker’s house, and that applies to you too. We’re all going home in one piece tonight, Guv. All of us.’

  ‘Where will you go?’ asked Hollie.

  ‘Overseas. Somewhere warm,’ said Red. ‘Somewhere where I can figur
e out how to help people with the money.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘All I need is enough cash to get away and set me up. The rest, I’m gonna give away over time.’

  ‘Who to?’

  ‘Well, veterans and their families, for a start. There are a lot of guys out there who need help dealing with life outside the wire. And I can’t think of a more appropriate use of your father’s money, can you?’

  Hollie smiled at the thought of it.

  ‘Maybe, then, I can finally sleep at night,’ said Red.

  Just then, the door to Hollie’s room opened and the woman with the scarred face walked in, unmasked. Red appeared as surprised to see her as Hollie was.

  ‘Well, this looks very cosy,’ said Black.

  ‘What the hell are you doing back here?’ asked Red.

  ‘I knew you didn’t have the balls to go through with it,’ said Black. She pulled a handgun from behind her back and pointed it at Hollie.

  Acting on instinct, Hollie thrust herself against the wall.

  ‘Jesus, Black!’ shouted Red.

  ‘And you can drop the codenames, Baker. I'll make sure she won’t be telling anyone about us.’

  ‘Come on, Spence,’ Baker said as he stood up from the chair, ‘don’t do anything stupid. We’re not killers.’

  ‘Look at me,’ said Spencer, and pointed to the large scar on the left-hand side of her face, ‘Do you really think she won’t be able to describe me in perfect detail?’

  Baker stepped in front of Hollie, shielding her. ‘We don’t kill kids, Spence.’

  ‘She’s seen my face, Baker.’

  ‘Trust me, Spence. She promised me she won’t say anything.’

  ‘Oh, well. That’s all right then,’ said Black, sarcastically. ‘I mean, if she's promised you she won’t, then we’ve got nothing to worry about then, have we?’

  ‘I’m telling you, Spence, she’s a good kid. She won’t say anything.’ Baker removed his own mask. ‘And look. Now she’s seen my face, too.’