Axe to Grind

by A L Fraine

  But, there was no grave to visit, just a small plaque on a wall somewhere that he’d never visited. She lived inside him now. Just a memory that he carried with him. He had to keep reminding himself that it really didn’t matter where he was, she would always be with him.

  When Damon had explained why he wanted him, why he’d thought of him, it all seemed to fit into place. He’d taken his time, thought it through and tried to think what Charlotte would want for him.

  But he didn’t need to think. Not really. He knew the answer. He knew what she’d want him to do.

  So he took the job.

  Driving into the small, leafy village of Horsley, the large, brutalist building on the right-hand side of the road stood out like a sore thumb. The station rose from the surrounding countryside to loom over the road like a cinder block in a carefully manicured rockery.

  And yet, it radiated strength and power, sending an unambiguous message to the criminal fraternity that permeated all walks of life, no matter how rich or poor they were. It looked fairly new too and promised to house good facilities for the unit to use.

  He pulled in and parked up, taking one of the visitor spaces at the front. Once he’d received his ID card, he’d park around the back, but for now, this would do.

  Climbing out, Jon looked up at the concrete edifice and took a breath before he marched inside and approached the front desk.

  “DCI Jon Pilgrim, I’m here to see Damon Verner.”

  “That’s Inspector Verner to you.”

  Jon turned to the voice and saw his old friend walking into the reception through a security door.

  “Damon, good to see you,” Jon said in greeting. He smiled. “You look… well, I would say good, but that would mean me being nice to you.”

  “I see you haven’t changed at all, Pilgrim,” Damon replied shaking Jon’s hand, before pulling him in for a brief embrace that consisted of a lot of back-slapping, and precious little tenderness. “Seriously, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you could make it down.”

  Damon was a good deal shorter than he was, with thinning, slicked-back hair and circular glasses that pinched his nose and reminded Jon of a mole.

  “No problem. Happy to help. Sounds like you’ve got quite the operation going on here.”

  Damon nodded. “Yeah, we do. It’s been great. It should be right up your alley.”

  “You stay away from my alley,” Jon replied with a wink. “So, you’re NCA now? Moving up in the world.”

  “What can I say?” Damon shrugged. “They recognised my expertise.”

  “Are you sure that’s what it was? They didn’t just want to get you off the streets?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he replied with a wry smile. “How are you, Jon?” His tone was serious, and Jon knew what he was getting at. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me. That was all a long time ago now. Your offer came at just the right time—I think I’ve pissed off enough people up north. Figured I’d better expand my horizons and see how many I could annoy down here too.”

  “I think you’ll find that your dedication to the cause will serve you in good stead.”

  “That would be a turn up for the books,” he answered, and signed in where the receptionist indicated. She handed him a temporary ID card.

  “I’ll get you a proper one of those,” Damon commented.

  “Good, I don’t want to look like the work-experience guy all day.”

  “Come on, this way,” Damon said, and led him through the door he’d first appeared through, unlocking it with the ID card that hung around his neck.

  “So, tell me a little more about this unit,” Jon asked, admiring the clean halls and modern décor. It had a fresh, simplistic style to it that Jon kind of liked.

  “The SIU is a unit dedicated to taking on some of the most notorious and vicious cases in the UK.”

  “So, serial killers?”

  “Yes, but not just them. Our remit is much bigger than that. We’ll talk a little more upstairs. The Chief Superintendent is keen to meet you and get you up to speed as quickly as possible.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Collins. Darrell Collins. He’s alright, you’ll like him.”

  Jon nodded. Liking him wasn’t really all that important. What was important was if the chief would let him do his job in the way he needed to. But, if he was someone he could get a pint with as well, then that would be great, too.

  They reached the top of the stairs and approached another set of doors with another security lock. While Damon moved to unlock them, Jon eyed the sign beside the door.

  SOS-SIU.

  Jon raised an eyebrow at it and peered at the words below, that explained the acronym. Serious, Organised, and Serial – Special Investigations Unit.

  “Really?” Jon muttered.

  “Hmm? What?”

  “SOS? That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

  “Oh. Heh, yeah, maybe.”

  Jon eyed him and noted the flush of colour that filled his cheeks. “Did you come up with that?”

  “Well…”

  “I knew it. You sly dog.”

  “I like it.”

  “I bet you do. Jesus,” Jon muttered, shaking his head. “Stick to your day job, Damon.”

  “Right, come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”

  “I’m early, man.”

  “So’s he,” Damon replied, looking back at him with a knowing smile.

  “Aaah, one of those, is he?” he replied, already getting an idea about what the chief was like, and approving of it.

  “When he knows we have someone important coming in.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” Jon commented as he followed Damon through a large open-plan office space with incident rooms, meeting rooms, and offices around the edges. Several men and woman stopped whatever they’d been doing and watched as they walked through the room. Jon smiled at them but didn’t linger.

  Damon led Jon into what looked like the main meeting room, complete with a long table down the middle. Sat in one of the chairs, with a leather folder open before him was a grey-haired man, who turned keen eyes on Jon.

  “One moment,” the chief said, returning his attention to his work and making a couple of final notes before closing it and turning to face him. The chief superintendent sat back in his chair and regarded Jon with appraising eyes. “DCI Jon Pilgrim. I’m Chief Superintendent Collins. Damon speaks highly of you, Jon.”

  “That would be a first,” Jon replied, unable to help himself, but also keen to test the waters. He wanted to see how the chief would react to his comment.

  Damon gave him a look, and the chief raised an eyebrow. “A joker, then.”

  Jon shrugged. “Occasionally. Sorry, nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “You have Damon here to thank for that. You were the first person he suggested.”

  “I’m honoured.”

  “You should be,” the chief replied regarding him for a moment before pulling a piece of paper from his folder and looking it over. “You have an exemplary arrest record, DCI Pilgrim.”

  “Thanks. I do my best to make a difference.”

  “Admirable. You seem to like taking on the vicious ones. The murderers and such.”

  “I have been making that my focus, yes.” In his mind, Charlotte’s face flashed before his eyes, along with many of the troubling memories of her final moments on this earth.

  “I see that. It seems to have defined your policing over the last few years.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Alright, well, I’m glad to have you here, so let’s bring you up to speed. The SIU was formed recently in response to a series of killings in the area, and the need to have a dedicated team that was designed to handle some of the more… complex cases. Formed in partnership with the National Crime Agency, our team operates throughout South East England, and could, in theory, go even further afield. We tak
e on serial killers, organised groups, and other serious and vicious crimes.”

  “So, like the Met’s Flying Squad, but for murderers rather than robbers,” Jon replied.

  “Something like that, yes,” the chief replied. “As a new group, formed from a Surrey Murder Team, we’re still building up our numbers. We have a central core team of officers, supported by other specialists, and of course, the wider Police forces in Surrey and beyond. We were missing a DCI, however, and I felt it important that we filled that role as soon as possible. That’s when Damon recommended you.”

  Jon nodded as the chief explained the situation, adding to the information that Damon had already given him. “I understand, sir.”

  “Good. Well, I’m very much looking forward to seeing how you do here. I’m expecting good things from you, Jon.”

  “I’ll try not to let you down, sir.”

  “Good man,” the chief replied, standing up and slapping him on the shoulder. “Good man. I’ll be upstairs in my office if you need me. In the meantime, why don’t you introduce him to his team?” he said to Damon.

  “Sir,” Damon replied.

  With a final nod, the chief walked out, leaving the two of them alone.

  “I think that went well,” Jon commented.

  “About as well as I expected it to,” Damon replied sarcastically.

  “You’re just jealous of my razor-sharp wit,” Jon commented.

  “Yeah, that’s right, that’s what it is,” he answered unconvincingly, as he made for the door. “Come on, let me introduce you to the lucky people you’ll be working with.”

  “Lead on,” Jon replied and followed Damon out of the meeting room and back into the main office where he approached a group of five people sat and stood around in a group, talking.

  “Everyone, thanks for getting in promptly this morning. I want to introduce you to your new DCI, Jon Pilgrim.”

  Jon nodded and smiled, looking each of them over.

  “Jon,” said a messy-haired man, wearing a shirt that looked like it could do with an iron. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “DI Nathan Halliwell.”

  Jon took his hand with a firm grip and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Detective Halliwell.”

  “And you,” Nathan replied. “This is DC Faith Evanson, our Victim Support Officer, DC Dion Dyer, DS Rachel Arthur, and DS Kate O’Connell.”

  “Mornin’,” he said in reply, smiling at them, wondering what kind of officers they were. There were several younger looking ones amongst them, and he hoped they would be as dedicated to the job as he was.

  Kate stepped forward and offered her hand too. “Good to meet you,” she said with a smile. She was a striking woman wearing a fitted suit with her auburn hair tied back in a ponytail.

  “And you,” he replied. He enjoyed sharing her gaze for a moment before he pulled his eyes away and looked around the office. In his mind’s eye, Charlotte was watching him, and he felt guilty for looking at another woman in that way. “Nice place you have here.”

  “It’s not bad,” Nathan replied, sounding a little less than enthused.

  “Ignore him,” Kate cut in. “It’s pretty good, actually. We’ve got some great facilities, including a small forensics suite, cells, even a gym in the basement.”

  “Wow,” Jon replied, genuinely impressed. He wondered if some of the money sloshing around this county had actually gone towards a good cause for once. “Fancy.”

  “It was built as business premises, but the company that was constructing it went bust. So a local businessman bought it and donated it to the police.”

  Jon nodded his approval. So, it seemed he was right in his assumptions. But he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of tax write-off for the local philanthropist. He didn’t know many wealthy people that would do such a selfless and expensive thing.

  “You’ve got it good here,” Jon said, looking over at Kate.

  “It’s been good to me so far,” she answered. “I hope you like it.”

  He nodded, feeling buoyed by the people and facilities he’d seen so far. This could be exactly what he needed.

  3

  Alan turned off the main road onto the track, before pulling up behind the familiar car that was parked up to one side.

  Brutus barked once in the boot, clearly excited for another day at work.

  “Yes, yes, we’re here,” Alan said as he climbed out and moved around to the back of the car. Inside, Brutus watched him, his tail going as he waited. Alan opened the boot and pulled Brutus in for a hug, running his hands through his fur.

  “Good boy, who’s a good boy, huh?” Attaching the lead, Alan led him from the back of the car and up the cracked concrete track to the prefab security station on the left. Beyond it, large metal gates blocked the road, denying the curious entry into the site beyond.

  Alan walked into the security station to find Dave sat with his feet up and his hands behind his head. “Mornin’. Busy night, was it?”

  “Nah, quiet actually,” Dave replied as he let Brutus off the lead. The huge Alsatian loped over to Max in the corner, and the two dogs greeted each other excitedly.

  “Good. Hopefully, mine will be as uneventful. I’m getting fed up of chasing bloody pikeys off this site.”

  “I hear they’re moving up the demolition date, I doubt we’ll be here for too much longer.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Brutus clearly likes it though.”

  “Heh, yeah. He loves it. Gets him out and about, what’s not to love?”

  “Everyone alright at home? How’s the missus?”

  “Yeah, she’s alright. We’re not doing much, really. Just the usual, you know?”

  “Oh, sure. I know. Just life stuff. Right then, Max, we’ve got to go.”

  Alan looked over at the two dogs who were now laid side by side on the doggy duvet, watching them. Max’s ears pricked up at the sound of his name. Dave got up and urged Max to follow with a slap of his thigh. Max grabbed his squeaky toy, bounded up to Dave, and followed him out.

  “Have a good one, matey.”

  “Will do,” Alan replied, and settled into the seat beside the main computer. He’d go through his usual routine, checking his email and any work messages before taking a walk through the site to check it out.

  As usual, his inbox was filled with junk, scams, and promotional rubbish with precious little of interest in it at all. Still, he went through it and started to read up on some work messages.

  He was less than an hour into his shift when the alarm control panel in the PC lit up.

  “Really?” Alan muttered, eyeing the program and the alert from the onsite passive infrared sensor. “They’re in early today,” he muttered, glancing at the time.

  He watched and waited for a moment, wondering if they’d set off another PIR alarm. He knew which one had triggered, and it did have a habit of going off all by itself occasionally. Or maybe it was a fox or something. But, sure enough, a second one lit up a short time later, making the odds of it being an animal, much smaller.

  “Shit,” he cursed and got up. “Looks like we’re heading out early, B.”

  Brutus sat up, alert and ready. “Come on, let’s go and scare some idiots,” he said and got the dog on a lead before walking out of the cabin.

  The change in Brutus as they made their way through the gate and down into the site was always impressive. The dog knew when they were working and immediately got his game face on, his head sweeping left and right, sniffing the air as Alan wandered in. He moved slowly down the short lane, keeping quiet and listening out for voices and sounds of movement. On reaching the end of the lane, the whole site opened up before him. Several large buildings were clustered together, including a couple of warehouses, the main factory, and off to one side, the offices. The derelict building sported exposed metal beams, smashed windows, and some admittedly impressive graffiti.

  Alan knew where the sensor was that had been tripped. He made a slow circle
of the building towards the entrance that he believed had been breached.

  Partway around, after seeing and hearing nothing, a sudden, blood-curdling scream rang out from inside. The terrifying sound brought Alan up short, making him pause. It had sounded female. Frantic shouts and the clatter of several sets of feet followed.

  What on earth was going on?

  Alan pressed on as Brutus started to pull on the lead, eager for action. Moving at a quicker pace, and catching the occasional shout from inside the building, Alan rounded the corner and approached the open loading dock where the PIR had been triggered. He was about to turn into it when four teenagers came crashing out through the door. Three male and one female, they were essentially kids, and they looked terrified. Several of them were shaking and looked in a state of shock. Alan held Brutus back as he pulled on the lead, barking at them.

  “What’s going on here?” He made sure to have an authoritarian tone to his voice.

  “Please,” one of the youths gasped. “You have to go and see.”

  “There’s a body in there,” another said.

  Had he heard that right? A body? Surely they were having him on. “A body? What do you mean? You know you’re trespassing, right?”

  “We know, we’ll go if you want. But you have to look, please.”

  “Yeah, right,” Alan commented. “Pull the other one.”

  “Please, you have to believe us,” another said, and Alan could see the sincerity in his eyes.

  “We’re not lying,” the girl said, looking up through tear-stained eyes. “I’ll go with you. I’ll show you.”

  There was something about the way they were talking, the way they came across—it was so genuine, so honest. He didn’t know what they’d seen, and wasn’t convinced it was, in fact, a dead body, but maybe it was something in the darkness that looked similar to a body, or just a trick of the light.

  “Where is it?” Alan asked as he gave Brutus the signal to calm down.

  “In there.”

  “Inside,” said another. “Go into the main room, and then into the side room on the left, it’s there.”

  Alan narrowed his eyes. He knew the room well, and it wasn’t that dark in there, either. He was also aware of what the procedure would be, on the tiny chance they were telling the truth. They would have to remain here to be questioned.