A Step Into The Dark

by Vince Vogel

  His milky eyes gazed imploringly at Alice. She dipped her hand into her jacket pocket and took out a crumpled piece of paper. Jack knew what it was immediately: the DNA report she’d dug up from the base of the tree.

  “No one else has seen it,” she said. “In my report, I make no mention of it and state that the box I dug up was empty. I claimed it was merely a diversion tactic.”

  “But what about Parkes’ motives for bringing us there together?”

  “I merely stated that we would probably never get to the bottom of what motivated Brian Parkes.”

  She stood up, came over and placed the paper in his hand. With all his strength, he crumpled it up in his fist and squeezed tight.

  “What about the rest?” he asked.

  “You mean trying to kill yourself?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I had the officers present suppress it in their reports. You were shot while grappling with Parkes is all they say. And with him playing mute, I don’t think he’ll ever talk about it, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  She sat back down and the two gazed at each other with sad faces. Jack felt the warm itch of a tear floating down his cheek.

  “What happened with Tyler?” he asked.

  “He’s perfectly fine. I had a hunch—”

  “A hunch?”

  “Yeah. I can have them, too. I had a hunch that we might be heading for Cracknel Farm. During his interview, David Burke told me his mother used to take him there. Everything else seemed to revolve around David and Carolyn, so I guessed it could be there that Kline would take us.”

  “And you surmised he could be keeping Tyler and the others close by?”

  “Yes. A man like Brian Parkes is all about control. He’d want them close. So I sent Lange and the others all over the surrounding countryside looking for anywhere you could keep a minibus and several hostages.”

  “Did he hurt him?”

  “Tyler, no. Two of the boys were injured. One with concussion and the other with burns from an electric shock. As for the rest, they’d been given a gas to sedate them and suffered only mild smoke inhalation, Lange having reached them not long after Parkes had set the fire.”

  “I should have listened to you.”

  “You weren’t yourself.”

  “I haven’t been for some time.”

  Their eyes stared into one another and a silent agreement passed through them.

  “I still see her,” Alice confessed to him.

  “You mean Suki Beau?”

  “Yeah. I’m taking meds, but it doesn’t help. Whenever I’m alone, I see her. Sometimes in the mirror, but other times she’s standing in the room with me or getting into my bed. I dream about what happened, too.”

  “This life damages the best of us.”

  “Do you ever get the impression we were made to suffer?”

  “It’s the only way I’ve ever been able to make sense of it all. That we are all made to suffer.”

  Again they stared at one another and tears fell from both detectives. Jack struck his hand out. Alice moved forward and took it, the two squeezing their fingers together. They stayed like that for some time, until the door of the room burst open and a teary-eyed Jean stood in the doorway.

  “It’s true,” she gasped with her hand over her mouth.

  “I forgot to tell you, I called them,” Alice gently told him, letting go of his hand.

  At that moment, Tyler came pushing past Jean, who stood stunned on the threshold, and bolted to his granddad, throwing himself onto Jack’s chest and sobbing loudly. The latter leaned his face an inch forward, his head feeling as heavy as a cannon ball, and kissed his grandson. Jean inched into the room and Alice gave her the chair, placing it beside Jack so that his girlfriend could sit level with him. Jean placed her hand on the side of his face and smiled through her dripping tears, Tyler still fixed to his chest.

  Jack gazed at Jean’s emerald eyes as they sparkled and she leaned down, placing her lips on his. They stayed like that as Alice left the room, the detective inspector glancing over at them one last time as she closed the door behind her.

  His family in his arms, Jack realized that he’d nearly lost them. Now he sensed them like never before and realized that he would do anything for them. Anything.

  114

  Renton Williams sat in his flat, watching the boxing and drinking beer. He was shouting and crying at the television, waving his bottle all over the place and spilling the drink. What did he care? Bonny would clean it up. After all, was he not the man of the house?

  The doorbell went and he flinched angrily, but didn’t let it spoil the match. Then the bell went again and whoever it was kept their finger on it.

  “Bonny!?” Renton shouted out. “Bonny!?”

  The bathroom door swung open and Bonny stuck her head out. It was covered in silver paper and drenched in blond dye.

  “I’m dying my hair,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

  “But it don’t stop you answerin’ the door.”

  “Look at me. My hands are in gloves and covered in hair dye.”

  He glared at her angrily, gritting his teeth together while she gazed back with a worried look.

  “For fuck’s sake!” he boomed, standing up sharply and banging his bottle down on the coffee table.

  He stormed out of the room, Bonny abruptly shutting the bathroom door as he came past. She then sat shivering on the toilet pan as he thumped down the stairs. The doorbell ceased and she hoped it wasn’t Tyler’s grandfather again, a terribly fraught trepidation nestling in her heart like mice.

  Soon she heard nothing, though, and let it go, the muffled sound of the boxing match in the background assuring her that all was well. By the time she’d finished with her hair, she was feeling a cool breeze come through under the door. When she went outside in her dressing gown, she felt it on her skin as it came up from the front door.

  The door to the flat was open and Renton was nowhere to be seen. She went over to it and gazed down the stairs that led out of the flat. The front door was wide open to the street below. Venturing down the stairs, she stood on the top of the stone steps outside and gazed up and down the street.

  There was not a single sign of her boyfriend.

  115

  They lifted the sack from his head and Renton found himself inside a container, his arms and legs tied to a chair. They’d knocked him out with a taser and his mouth tasted of metal. Two burly men stood on either side of him.

  In front of him stood a middle-aged man in an expensive navy pinstriped suit and Renton instantly knew who he was. He’d never met the man in person, but having worked the drugs trade for nearly fifteen years, he knew the sight of the man who’d sat at the top of the food chain.

  “Do you know who I am?” the man asked.

  “Yeah,” Renton replied in a voice full of defeat. “You’re Harry Dunn.”

  “Good. Then we don’t need introductions.”

  “But I ain’t got any beef with you,” Renton spluttered. “It’s years since I was rocking with Earle and his crew.”

  “This has nothing to do with business. It’s more about family.”

  “But I’m clean. Workin’ as the manager—”

  He stopped. Harry Dunn was holding a finger to his lips.

  “Tyler Sheridan is my family,” Dunn stated.

  Renton’s eyes widened and he looked confused.

  “I don’t get it,” he muttered.

  “Then let me explain as quickly as possible. You are to end all attempts at custody for Tyler Sheridan. You’re to sign the boy over to his grandfather, Jack Sheridan. You’re to accept visitation when he says and how he says. At the moment, Jack is considering allowing you to spend time with the boy while he supervises, but he’ll be in contact over this.”

  “And so… I have no choice?” Renton stammered.

  Harry Dunn chuckled and so too did the gorillas standing on either side.

  “No, you don’t,” Dunn
said with a smile. “If you walk out of here and don’t do as I say, you’ll last no longer than a day before they find you outside the nearest A and E with your legs and arms busted to fuck. You get me?”

  Renton nodded.

  “Do as I say,” Dunn went on, “or I’ll make you wish you were never born.” Harry glared into Renton William’s eyes and the other man looked down at his own feet. “And another thing I’m to tell you. This girlfriend of yours, she’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dunn shook his head. “You’re not to lay a single finger on her from now on. We’ll be watching you, and for every mark you lay on her, two will be laid on you. You understand?”

  Dunn’s evil eyes burned into Renton, who gazed up at them before sharply looking back down.

  “Yeah,” Renton grunted. “I understand.”

  Harry Dunn nodded to his men and left the container. They were inside a large aircraft hangar. Dunn moved to a Rolls Royce that was parked in the middle and got in when the driver opened the door for him.

  “He okay?” Jack asked as Dunn joined him on the back seat.

  “Yes,” Harry replied in a sardonic tone. “I haven’t hurt him. Just threatened him, like you said.”

  “And he understands?”

  “Yeah. He recognized me. I remember his face from Jacob Earle’s lot about ten years ago. I had him sent out of a deal because I could tell he was a user. He knows not to fuck because I know everyone that he does and more. He can’t hide from someone like me. Not like he can hide from your lot.”

  Jack nodded his head.

  “Okay,” he said. “Take me home.”

  They drove out of the hangar and into countryside, the two men silent and looking out of opposite windows as they drove along. They entered the city and Dunn’s eyes lit up when they came through his old East London neighborhood.

  “I grew up here,” he said. “It looks worse than it did then.”

  Jack didn’t answer him. Didn’t even look away from the window. They arrived at his street and parked opposite his drive. The two men turned to each other and Harry expected Jack to get out.

  But he didn’t.

  “Just for the record,” Jack said in a solemn tone, “I know it’s you who owned the house the girls were in.”

  Harry Dunn’s face turned to stone and his eyes narrowed at Jack.

  “And how do you know that?” he asked.

  “A feeling. Like your connection to Mathew Brown. The lawyer you had sit with him is from the same firm who deal with your property deals.”

  “And what do your colleagues know?”

  “Nothing. You were too clever to leave anything that could lead back to you. It seems that anyone that could give your name is either dead or missing. But it was you who used to be in business with Tommy Lewis. That’s why he rented you the place. You supply him with girls and he gives you buildings. We raided Lewis’ other places today and found them empty. You’d moved the girls on. But we’re looking for them.”

  “And what?” Dunn seethed, doing his best to keep his composure. “You want to let me know that you’re wise to me?”

  “For now, Harry. But we can’t speak anymore. I have to stay on my side and you on yours. I thank you for your help today, but I have to tell you that from now on, I’m going to do my best to bring you to justice.”

  Dunn stared malevolently into his eyes, burning rage contorting his polished face.

  “Then so be it,” he snarled across the car at him. “You come at me with all you’ve got.”

  Jack didn’t reply. Didn’t want to get stuck in a never-ending game of threats. So he simply turned from Dunn and got out of the car, hearing the tires move away as he walked down his drive to his front door.

  116

  “What do you mean you left him there?” Jean said breathlessly as she and Jack marched into the pub.

  In a far corner, they spotted the morose figure of Jonny Cockburn in his wheelchair, stuffed in the darkest corner. There were only three other people in the place, including the barman, and each of them gazed over with worried faces at him.

  “He wouldn’t come,” Jack said to her as they reached him.

  “What the bloody hell’s the matter?” Jean asked when she stood in front of Jonny.

  His head was hanging limply between his skinny shoulders, a large scotch clutched on his lap. He lifted his head as though it was made of lead and gazed up at her for some time with a face that hung from his skull, his wet and bloodshot eyes filled with such sadness that it sank both Jack and Jean’s hearts.

  Slinging the scotch down for courage, he stared up at Jean and said in a weak voice, “I can’t.”

  Jean spoke softly now. “It’s your family’s funeral, Jonny. You don’t get to be weak today. Just get through this and you can spend as long as you want hiding away. But you’ve got to be there for your boys.”

  “I can’t,” he repeated and went to drink off the scotch, only to find it was empty. He turned his eyes to Jack like a dog begging for food.

  “Mate,” Jack said, “I can’t get you another. She’s right. You’ve got to come to the funeral.”

  “Oh, God!” Jonny said weakly, before throwing his head into his hands and howling into them.

  Jack took the glass from his lap and placed it on the table. He then came behind Jonny and began pushing him out of there as he sobbed away, the others watching them go with benevolent faces.

  The whole way through the funeral—three coffins laying beside each other over a hole—Jonny gazed up from his wheelchair as though in shock. People, relatives, came beside him and took his hand or placed one on his shoulder, but all he could do was glance up at them with a look of complete bewilderment. It was as if they weren’t even there, or so smeared by mist so that he didn’t recognize them. Everything appeared to pass by him and when they pressed a little dirt into his hand and Jack wheeled him to the edge of the hole, he seemed not to know what to do.

  “You toss it on top,” Jack whispered down to him.

  Jonny dropped it on top and then gazed down at his dirty hand. After that, they put him in the car and drove him back to Jack’s. He was staying in the lounge, where they’d placed a hospital bed and set everything up for his wheelchair.

  He hadn’t been able to face going home alone. Even though he’d lived alone for the past fifteen years, he couldn’t stand the thought of being all on his own. Jack had been quick to offer his place. Jean even offered her redundant house next door. But Jonny preferred to be around life. He was especially attentive to Tyler, who he had helped several times with his English homework, enjoying being of use.

  Jack and Jean carried Jonny into bed, where he passed out. They undressed him and tucked him in as if he was a child. They then stood watching as he snored away.

  “You think he’ll be alright?” Jean asked in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t know. I thought I’d lost Tyler and it nearly drove me over the edge. He’s lost two sons.”

  “And the love of his life.”

  Jack turned to her.

  “I thought they’d been divorced for years,” he said.

  “He confessed to me last night that he still loved her. Said he never stopped. Regretted the way he treated her when they were together. Missed her all the time.”

  Jack took in that word, ‘regret’. He glanced sideways at her. A sudden fear struck him and he realized that he, too, could lose his love. He was quick to move an arm around her and squeeze her into him, kissing the side of her head and making her smile.

  “I do love you, you know,” he said.

  “I know,” she replied, nestling her head into the crook of his neck.

  117

  There was one last loose end for Jack to see to.

  This time he didn’t pace the gray carpet tiles. This time he was already sitting across the scratched table when Col Baker came in. His former partner sat down and gazed with morose eyes at Jack while the guard took the familiar
position by the door.

  “You catch your man?” Col said.

  “Yeah. He’ll probably end up somewhere like this.”

  Jack glared at Col with a knowing frown.

  “Best place for him,” Col muttered before sighing deeply and looking out the window at the fence outside.

  “You told him about my mum, didn’t you?” Jack put to him. “Because I’ve told four people in my entire life. Marsha, Jimmy, Jean, and you. It couldn’t have been the others.” A malevolent grin took hold of Col’s face as he turned back to Jack. “That’s what Pauline Chalmers told you, wasn’t it?”

  “She told me that Kline had raped a nun when he was seventeen. I couldn’t help thinking about you, but didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

  “And when were you sure?”

  “Not long after that. I dug some more, visited the old witch again. I found out that Kline would have been seventeen when you were conceived. Your mum—a nun—was living close to where he was at that time. Like we always said: Kline was an opportunist.”

  “Why’d you never tell me? Because it was years before everything came out.”

  “I never told you because I didn’t want to hurt you. And I could have been wrong. You see,” his eyes narrowed and anger took over his face, “back then, I loved you and would have done anything to protect you. I did what I could without seeing Kline and put it to the back of my mind. Thought it better if you never knew, because that’s what friends do for each other.”

  “Did Brian Parkes come to see you?”

  “Yeah. About five years ago. He’d found out about your affair with Beth. He came to me offering revenge and I took it.”

  Jack scowled at him with hateful eyes.

  “He nearly killed my grandson!” Jack angrily cried at him. “The boy’s having nightmares about it. Your problem is with me, not my family.”

  “I lost mine!” Col shouted out, standing sharply from his chair so that it flew backwards, the guard moving from the door. “She was pregnant,” he seethed, a manic look to his face. “Did they tell you that at the autopsy?”