The moment Sue had opened the door to them, Hunter could remember thinking that she was the most youthful fifty-year-old woman he had ever seen: barely five-foot tall and petite, with short blonde hair. He couldn’t help but notice that except for a few laughter lines around her eyes, she hardly had a blemish to her complexion. And, as he looked at her now, almost two years since that visit, she still didn’t appear to have aged, despite what she had gone through: after talking with her, it had sadly transpired that the body they had found was that of her daughter Carol. It was also during this stage of the investigation that Barry had dropped his bombshell: Carol had also been his daughter. He revealed to Hunter that he’d had a fling with Sue during his early days as a detective, and because he’d been married they had kept it their secret.
“Why does it happen to me? I finally get the man of my dreams and then he’s gone,” Sue said, taking another sip of her wine.
Unsure how to respond, Hunter shrugged his shoulders and offered a wan smile. He knew what she was alluding to; the fling — as Barry had put it — had happened after she had been hospitalised, following a brutal beating by her boyfriend. Barry had dealt with the case, and following that meeting they had engaged in their brief liaison that had brought about Carol. Although Barry had taken responsibility for Carol, because he was married, he had secretly dipped in and out of Sue and Carol’s life. When the ‘Demon’ case had come along, Barry had been retired almost three years and he was no longer married — he had lost his wife to a stroke. That phone call from Sue had been the catalyst for them rekindling their relationship. They had only just started living together when this tragedy occurred.
“He thought the world of you, Hunter,” she said, lowering her glass. “He told me on numerous occasions how you’d saved his arse a few times.”
Hunter met Sue’s eyes, studying her features. After Barry had disclosed that he was the father of a victim of the ‘Dearne Valley Demon’, he had sworn him to secrecy. It had caused Hunter much angst at the time, but fortunately it had never been necessary to reveal the secret during that enquiry. Since it had ended, he had told no one. He had not even divulged to Sue what he knew about Carol, and as he tried to read the look she was giving him, he wondered if Barry had ever revealed to her that he had told him. Pulling back his gaze, he decided now wasn’t the time to check it out. As far as he was concerned, Barry had taken it to his grave.
Issuing a weak smile, Hunter responded, “He was a nightmare at times, especially where authority was concerned, but he was such a massive help to me in my early years, it was the least I could do.”
Sue let out a little laugh. “A nightmare is an understatement; he could be a damn pain in the backside sometimes, but I’ll certainly miss him.” She fell silent for a moment, locking eyes with him. She added, “I’m so glad you were with him when he died.”
Hunter saw her eyes well up, raising a lump in his throat. Before he had time to respond, Grace joined them, pushing a pint of bitter shandy into his hand. Inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief. Grace’s timing couldn’t have been better; his eyes had been about to water, and he turned his head sharply to blink away the film of tears.
“God, that was a trawl. Don’t you dare ask me to go to the bar again, Hunter Kerr.” Grace also had a glass of wine for Sue. “I thought you might need another,” she said, handing it over.
Sue took the glass, finished the drink she had and set down the empty glass on one of the buffet tables. “You must have heard me tell Hunter that all I wanted to do is drown my sorrows.”
“If that’s what you feel the need to do, Sue, you do it,” Grace replied, taking a sip of Chardonnay. “If I hadn’t got to go back into work, I’d join you.”
Hunter took the top off his shandy. He said, “It was a lovely service, Sue.”
She removed the wine glass from her lips. “Wasn’t it just? Barry would have loved it if he’d have been there.” For a moment, they locked eyes. Then, simultaneously, they all let out a laugh.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hunter stood before his new desk, admiring it. It had a curved extension with side panels, and he had his own desktop computer, which meant no more sharing. Grace’s desk abutted his. All the desks in the MIT Suite had been arranged in twos so that detectives could sit opposite their partners. The room was huge in comparison to the one they were vacating, and bright, with high-glow lighting and cream coloured, freshly painted walls. Lots of boards filled wall space — he and Grace had one to share — and these were currently void of notices and newspaper cuttings. Hunter knew that wouldn’t last. The next incident would change all that.
He dumped the large box on his desk, pushing it alongside the other two he’d brought from the old office. In them was everything he had collected from his eighteen years of police work. Looking at their contents, he knew it was going to take at least an hour to sort his workspace. He had already decided, as he had packed the boxes, that some of it was no longer needed, but he just wanted to double-check some of the files’ contents before disposal.
The first thing Hunter took out was the framed photo of Beth sandwiched between Jonathan and Daniel. He had taken the family pose on holiday in Minorca two years ago. As he set it beside his computer screen, he couldn’t help but notice how out of date it was. The boys, especially, had changed — Jonathan in particular; he was still skinny, but this last year he had rocketed in height and he was starting to grow his hair long. Lining it straight, he vowed to update the frame with a more recent snap over the next few days. The next thing he took out was his football mug. Hunter took some stick for supporting Sheffield United, especially from Tony Bullars, who was a rival Sheffield Wednesday supporter. He had just set it next to his bundle of pens when his phone rang. It took him by surprise, because he hadn’t given out his new number to anyone yet. In fact, he didn’t know it himself. He answered. He instantly recognised the soft yet firm Scottish voice of his boss Superintendent Dawn Leggate. She told him that she was in her office along the corridor and she wanted to see him.
Hunter left the room and walked the thirty metres to where her new office was. The entire frontage was floor-to-ceiling frosted glass. He could just make out her silhouette sitting behind her desk as he approached. He rapped on the glass door and she called him in. Like the new MIT Suite, her room was bright and airy and smelt of fresh paint. To the right, one wall had light oak bookcases and cupboards, and there was a round table with four chairs. The long desk was of the same honey-coloured wood as in the MIT Suite.
“Afternoon, boss,” said Hunter.
“Good afternoon, Hunter.”
He saw Dawn’s hair was still up in a chignon, and she hadn’t changed out of the fitted black dress she’d worn at Barry’s service.
“How did the wake go?” she asked.
“So, so, boss. To be honest, I wasn’t in the mood. I had a shandy and dipped out of it. I had a quick word with Sue, but what do you say to her? I’ll go and see her in a couple of weeks.”
“That’s one of the reasons I didn’t go. It wasn’t that I was being disrespectful.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty, boss. It wasn’t your fault what happened.”
She held up a hand. “Nevertheless, I do. Maybe when Jack gets his just desserts in court, I can move on.” She was silent for a moment, then she said, “Anyway, it’s not that I want to talk to you about, it’s this.” She beckoned him forward, turning her computer screen as far as it would go.
Hunter couldn’t see the screen from where he was standing and so slipped around the side of her desk to get a better view. Filling the screen was the front page of the digital version of The Daily Record — Scotland’s main newspaper.
Dawn said, “My ex-DS sent me this ten minutes ago.”
Hunter knew she was alluding to Detective Sergeant John Reed, a former colleague she’d worked with in Stirling CID. He had met him just over a year ago during a joint investigation, hunting two dangerous thugs who had murdered three former det
ectives up in Scotland. Hunter felt his stomach knot. It had been that case that had rocked his world. He had discovered things about his dad during that enquiry that he had found difficult to believe. In fact, he was still coming to terms with the things he had learned about his father’s past; their relationship still hadn’t returned to what it had been.
Hunter shook himself out of his reverie and focused on the screen. The headlines caused him to catch his breath. As his eyes leapt to the paragraph below, his heart accelerated. By the time his gaze had drifted to the photograph beside the article, it was pummelling his chest.
CHAPTER FIVE
Hunter held his breath for a few seconds before slowly letting it go. He read the article again, this time at a steadier pace.
MANHUNT UNDERWAY FOR ESCAPED GANGLAND KILLER
This morning, police in Glasgow are searching for serial-killer Billy Wallace who was sprung from custody by two armed men after they attacked the prison officers escorting him.
The two masked men sped away from the scene in a black Range Rover after both the prison guards were knocked unconscious. Police have confirmed that Wallace was being escorted to Glasgow Royal Infirmary for treatment of a head injury following an assault by a fellow inmate. The public have been warned not to approach Wallace, who is described as extremely dangerous. Billy ‘Braveheart’ Wallace, 59, was serving a whole life sentence at Barlinnie prison for the murder of five people and the attempted murder of another committed eighteen months ago.
Hunter felt his heart lurch. He had seen the Scenes of Crimes photographs of Billy’s handiwork. They were horrendous. His victims had been tortured before being killed. His father could have been one of them had it not been for extreme luck and his dad’s boxing skills. Without warning — not for the first time — the spectre of that event eighteen months ago leapt inside his head. Hunter had raced to his father’s gym following his dad’s frantic phone call alerting him that Billy had turned up armed with a knife. He had got there just as the fight was finishing and been faced with his dad throttling the very life out of Billy. It had been he who had dragged his father off and saved Billy from certain death, though that never came out in court. Instead, Billy had been charged with attempted murder, because it had been he who had attacked his father, wounding him. Hunter took another deep breath and finished the article:
Wallace was the son of Glasgow Gangland Boss, Gordon Wallace, who ran a black-market, protection and drug empire across the city during the 1950s, 60s and 70s, and Billy, who was known for his psychopathic tendencies, took a leading role in the family’s criminal empire. In 1971, he shot dead a young woman and her 5-year-old daughter over a drug debt and was sentenced to life, together with an accomplice.
Following his release in 2008, he embarked upon a campaign of revenge against those who brought about that conviction; three retired detectives, the wife of one of them, and a police informer met a horrible death at Billy’s hands. A former gang member, who gave evidence against him at his trial, was injured in a knife attack before he was finally captured. In court, the judge described Billy Wallace as ‘a danger to the public who should never be released.’ Wallace is described as 6’4” tall, of broad build with dark greying hair, grey eyes and a noticeable 6” scar to the left side of his face.
The article ended with a request for information as to his whereabouts and a telephone number. Hunter’s eyes drifted across to the photograph of Billy Wallace. It was the one taken after his arrest, the ugly healing knife wound snaking across the bridge of his nose onto the left side of his craggy face, enhancing the menacing look he gave.
Hunter lifted his gaze from the screen and locked eyes with his boss. The knot forming in his stomach was tightening. “Jesus,” he said.
“Jesus exactly,” Dawn replied, twisting the screen back to face her.
“That was yesterday?” he asked, pointing at the monitor.
She nodded. “He was supposedly found unconscious in his cell during morning unlocking. He had a nasty gash above his eye, and it looked as though he’d been in a fight. He was being taken to hospital in a taxi, and had just got there when this Range Rover with armed men appeared and sprang him.”
“A taxi!” Hunter interjected.
Dawn threw up a hand. “I know! I’ve not long had this same conversation with John. You wouldn’t believe it, would you? A dangerous criminal like Billy Wallace and they arrange for him to go to hospital in a bloody taxi. Standard practice now, I understand. What is this world coming to?”
Hunter shook his head in disbelief. He said, “But the guards were attacked before they got into hospital?”
She gave a brief nod. “It looks like a well-planned operation. John tells me they’ve found footage of the Range Rover used in the attack parked up in the hospital’s main car park a good half hour before Billy arrived. They must have also had someone inside the hospital keeping watch, because the moment he arrived at the rear entrance the Range Rover set off. It was all over and done with in a little under two minutes. An enquiry has already started, but that’s too bloody late now. Billy Wallace is free, and given that it was two armed men who freed him, he’s more than likely armed himself now.”
Hunter pulled up a seat, placed it in front of Dawn’s desk and dropped down onto it. “Any clues who’s behind it and where he might be?”
She shook her head. “As you know, Billy had lots of criminal connections. Many of them were old, like him, but nevertheless they had the links to make this happen, and these days it wouldn’t need that much cash. So far, I’m told, they have no idea who is behind it. The men who freed him were wearing ski masks. The CCTV footage of the hospital car park just shows the vehicle parked up, not who was in it. And the Range Rover was found burnt out on wasteland just outside Glasgow less than an hour after his escape. They’re trawling CCTV along the route the vehicle took to see if they can get any glimpses of who was driving, but there’s nothing yet. They’ve also tried speaking to the prisoner who supposedly assaulted Billy, but he’s refusing to talk.” She paused, holding his gaze. “Guess who it is?”
Hunter pursed his lips, throwing her a questioning look.
“Rab Geddes!”
Hunter’s mouth dropped open. “Rab Geddes!”
“I thought that’d be your reaction.”
“Rab attacked Billy!” Hunter shook his head. “I don’t believe that for one minute. Rab’s been Billy’s right-hand man since they were teenagers. He was with him when they shot that woman and her kid back in the seventies, and also when they tortured and killed those retired detectives and attacked my dad eighteen months ago.” Setting his mouth tight, he studied Dawn’s face a moment before saying, “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”
She nodded. “Pair of them set this up without doubt. John says he’s spoken to the Prison Governor on the phone, and he’s told him that a few weeks ago there was a falling out between the pair that came to blows, and there’s been a couple of incidents recently where there’s been violent outbursts between them. It’s been recorded that Billy accused Rab of selling him out at the trial. We can now guess that was all staged for yesterday’s big performance. I’ve asked John if he can fix up a visit to speak with Rab as a matter of urgency, but I don’t hold up much hope of us getting anything out of him. Like Billy he’s on a whole-life-term, so he’s nothing to gain.”
“Bloody hell!”
“There’s a full search going on up in Glasgow, but if his escape is anything to go by, I’m guessing he’ll be holed up in a pretty good hiding place right now.”
For a few seconds Hunter sat looking at his Detective Superintendent, studying her closely. Then he said, “Does my dad know about this?”
“No. I only got this twenty minutes ago. John’s told me it’s only just hit the news up there, but given what happened to your dad eighteen months ago and the publicity it got, I’m guessing it won’t be long before it’s on the local news. And, although the press don’t know the exact full story about
your dad’s involvement in Billy’s past because of his identity change, I’m sure the least they’ll do is make the connection to the attack on him. Sooner or later I’m guessing there’ll be questions from the media, and I want to not only protect you and your family from that intrusion but the Force as well. I also need to think about the immediate safety of your family, and that’s why we’re having this conversation.”
Hunter let out a heavy sigh. “Wow!”
“Wow indeed. You know our security measures are pretty inadequate for this kind of thing, Hunter. Especially given how dangerous Billy Wallace is. Sure, we can put in CCTV and fit a personal alarm, but it won’t stop Billy breaking into your parents’ home. I could probably budget for someone to stand outside their house for a couple of days, but that’s all, and I certainly couldn’t afford for someone to be at his gym as well. Sadly, I’m afraid this comes down to pounds and pence. We need to come up with a plan that I can afford and which is going to protect your family until Billy Wallace is re-captured. I say we, because I want to include you in this.”
Hunter eased back in his seat. Suddenly, it felt as if a great weight was pushing down on him. His chest tightened. “Christ, boss, I can’t believe this is happening.”
Hunted: A psychotic killer is out for revenge... (THE DS HUNTER KERR INVESTIGATIONS Book 6) Page 2
