by Colin Wade
He was not in his usual black 4x4, which was in the garage for maintenance. He had borrowed his dad’s Lexus. They were pretty sure that Rob didn’t know he was being followed but he figured a change of car can’t have done any harm. He still followed at a discreet distance.
This visit was the first unusual thing that Rob had done since they had been tailing him. He didn’t know who lived in the house and he couldn’t see who Rob was talking to, before they seemed to disappear round the back.
He texted his dad.
‘Rob Simmons has just visited an address in Warwick. Can one of your computer nerds find out who lives there?’
As usual the response was fast.
‘Good, finally we are getting somewhere. Give me the address.’
He texted the address and waited. As he was driving back down the M40 his phone pinged. He pulled into the next services and read the text.
‘So, Mr fucking impatient. I told you I was right. He is trying to find out more about the clinic. The woman he visited was Janice Silverman, an ex-employee of Dr Normandy’s. How the hell did he get her name? I know he is getting help from someone. You need to find out who and deal with this Janice person. If she is spilling the beans about the clinic, she needs to be dealt with.’
Once again, he was pissed off by the tone of his dad’s text messages but at least he had given him the green light to kill someone. It was just a shame it wasn’t Rob or that bitch Anya, yet.
He travelled home, planning his killing mission and hoped that Rob would soon lead him to whoever was helping them.
50
It was late on Tuesday afternoon as Rob was doing his usual daily visit to Anya for the day, when the call from the last of the police forces had come in.
The police in Wiltshire had given the same story. Hassan Chandra had taken over the investigation. Three out of four. This call was from the police in Berkshire.
“Hello, can I speak to a Simon Bentley please?”
“Yes, speaking,” replied Rob, lying once again to the police. Oh, how his principles had changed in just a few short weeks.
“Mr Bentley, I understand you are enquiring about an RTC.”
“Yes, I am a lawyer representing the parents of Rachel Hermitage who was killed in the accident. We are trying to pursue a civil claim against the hit-and-run driver, as they do not believe that justice has been served.”
“Hold on.”
He heard the now familiar tap, tap, tap of the keyboard as the officer searched their police systems for information.
“The investigation is closed.”
“How can that be? The case was never resolved which is why the parents are pursuing a civil claim.”
“We had no leads but about six weeks in, my inspector told me the case had to be closed and handed over.”
“Who to?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Was it to Superintendent Hassan Chandra at the National Major Crime Agency?”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Thank you, Officer. I think you have given me all I need.”
Rob hung up quickly before he got too deep into the conversation. Whilst it wasn’t a direct confirmation, the officer’s reaction said enough. Four out of four.
*
DC James Carroll was concerned. Whoever this Simon Bentley was he knew information about the RTC that he shouldn’t know. He was worried that in the heat of the moment he had given away information he shouldn’t have divulged. He had to ring his inspector.
“Guv, its James. I have just had a strange call with a lawyer representing the parents of a girl that was killed in an RTC about three years ago. He came through 101 and they asked me to ring him. He was asking about the case and I told him it was closed. I don’t know if you remember it but it was the one we handed over to the National Major Crime Agency. The problem is, I refused to give him the name of the agency or super we handed it to, but he seemed to know it anyway. I am afraid I may have slipped up by my reaction when he mentioned the name.”
“Yes, I remember it. Part of a crime series wasn’t it? We handed it over to that Asian superintendent.”
“Yes, that is right, but how did he know that and the guy’s name?”
“Don’t worry about it. Old news as far as we are concerned. These lawyers are crafty bastards. Probably got some inside information. Can you email me the guy’s name and phone number and I’ll pass it on, in case it causes them any grief?”
“No probs. Cheers Guv.”
Inspector Harry Li was unnerved by the phone call from his DC. He thought the little ‘arrangement’ he had been so handsomely paid for was long gone. How the hell had it suddenly reared its head again? He would have to phone Hassan.
“Hassan, it’s Inspector Harry Li. I am sorry to ring you. I know we were supposed to keep off the grid with our arrangement but something has come up about our little deal from three years ago.”
“What?” replied Hassan, clearly aggravated by this piece of business coming back to haunt him.
“One of my DCs who did the original investigation just had a call from a lawyer called Simon Bentley, representing the parents of the girl killed in the accident. Something about pursuing a civil claim because we were unable to bring a criminal charge. The problem is my officer didn’t give your name or agency, but this bloke apparently already knew it. I thought you said this was all locked down?”
“Shit. This is not good. Thanks for telling me but do not contact me again. Text me his phone number. I will deal with it.”
51
After another day on the hamster wheel, Rob decided to go and visit Clark to tell him about the good news from the last two phone calls from the police. Superintendent Hassan Chandra and his Major Crime Agency were now major players in this conspiracy. Clark would be stoked.
Rob texted him to say he was on his way and Clark agreed. He collected his car from the underground hospital car park and set off to battle across the Reading rush-hour traffic to get to Clark’s flat.
He had only been going a few minutes when, after sitting waiting at the numerous sets of traffic lights that plagued Reading centre, his heart suddenly froze as three cars back he could see a black 4x4. The driver was wearing dark glasses and the whole set-up looked alarmingly similar to the car and person that had been following him the other week. The lights changed and he carried on towards Clark’s to see if the car would follow him. It did. As he was about half a mile from Clark’s flat, he got on the phone to him.
“Clark, it’s Rob. I have a black 4x4 following me. I am sure it is the same one as the other week. The driver looks male but he has dark glasses on, so I can’t make out his face.”
The sound of terror in Rob’s voice was obvious but Clark knew he had to protect himself, first and foremost.
“Do not come to me. If this is our guy we cannot afford to blow my cover. Find the next available turn and head back home.”
Rob changed his plans and took the next left, taking him back towards the west of Reading and the roads towards Goring.
“I have done it. I have changed direction and I am now heading home. Fuck me Clark. Is this it? Is he going to kill me?”
“Just keep driving and try to calm down. Can you see the number plate?”
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. He has turned with me.”
“Come on Rob. Calm down. This could be the break we need to identify this dude.”
Rob was terrified but he knew Clark was right.
“OK. OK. I will see if I can manoeuvre myself so I can see the plate.”
Rob kept changing lanes as he headed west towards the roads that would take him back home, in an attempt to get the plate.
“Right Clark, I think I can see it. AW56… hold on he has gone behind another car, B… damn it, I think it is JM.”
“The car with that number plate is black, yes a 4x4 model I think and is registered to a Mr Charles Jefferies, age sixty-seven, living in Fleetwood, Lancashire.”
“Eh, how is that possible? This guy does not look sixty-seven and he must live locally.”
“I think what we have here my friend is a case of false number plates. He has found a car with the same make and colour and copied the plate number. This explains why he is so brazen about driving it around and killing people in it. If anyone had reported the plate number the police would be sent on a wild goose chase to Lancashire. It is just more evidence that this guy and vehicle are a key part of our conspiracy.”
“Oh my God. He is going to kill me, isn’t he?”
“Just keep driving. Head for home. Try to shake him off. We need to think of a way to meet up without you getting tailed. I think this now confirms that they are onto you and… oh shit!”
“What?”
“Did you get followed to Janice’s house?”
“Err, no. I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so! Fuck me Rob, you need to be more sure than that.”
“No. I didn’t get followed. I was keeping an eye out for a black 4x4. I am certain that no one followed me up there.”
“Well, I hope you are right. Now we know they are definitely tracking you we need to be ultra-careful.”
“Careful! That is easy for you to say. You are not the one with a killer following you!”
The tension was palpable but they stayed on the call. Rob kept feeding updates every few seconds to Clark, who knew he had to distract Rob somehow.
“Anyway Rob. Why were you coming to see me?”
“Oh, God yeah. I’d forgotten the good news in all this drama.”
“Good news?”
“Yes, the other two police forces came back to me and they both confirmed they had passed their cases on to the National Major Crime Agency and our mysterious Mr Chandra.”
“Ah man, that is savage. We now have another key player in this conspiracy and almost certainly the ‘go to’ person in the police environment that is pulling all the strings where the police are involved. Great work Rob.”
They discussed what to do next. They needed to consider all that Rob had found from Janice and the police, whilst they waited for a job vacancy to come up at the clinic. Clark was also hoping that Snap would soon crack the bank.
“You need to break your routine,” said Clark. “I suggest that we meet this Sunday. Go and see Anya in the morning and then get a taxi from the hospital to my flat. I reckon he is tailing you by knowing your car. I bet he sits in the hospital car park waiting for you to move.”
Nothing that Clark was saying was helping Rob manage the overwhelming fear he was now feeling. He looked in his rear-view mirror and suddenly realised that the car had gone. “Thank God. He’s not following me anymore.”
“Good. He has probably given up now that he knows you are driving home.”
They disconnected their call and went back to their respective evenings. Rob tried to calm himself. He didn’t see the car again all the way home.
52
“What is he up to?”
After the success with tailing Rob to Janice Silverman’s, he was a little bit more motivated than usual, despite his father’s constant disapproval.
He had been following Rob as he normally did, but today he had not taken his customary route home from the hospital. Instead of heading west he had started towards the centre of Reading. He was excited. Was Rob finally going to lead him to whoever his father thought was helping him?
But, after tailing him for about a mile through the incessantly slow rush-hour traffic, he suddenly turned west and headed back towards his usual route home.
How odd.
He suddenly wondered whether Rob knew he was being followed. Had he been spotted? Had he spooked him?
He followed him until he reached the Caversham Bridge and started up the hill through the residential areas that would eventually lead to the A4074 and home. That was enough. Whatever had just happened was now a dead end. Rob was going home.
He decided against texting his father.
Somehow, despite this being only the second potential lead they had after the boredom of following Rob day in and day out, he knew his father would find some way to blame him for what had just happened.
Fuck him. I will get you Rob and when I do, I will revel in the glory of my father having to be grateful. For once.
*
William Hardacre sat impatiently in James’ office at Number 10. Something had gone wrong with the Chinese trade deal and he was livid. Waiting was not improving his mood. After ten minutes of stewing on his own juices, James finally arrived.
“Dad, I won’t say it is a pleasure. I am very busy. What are you doing here?”
“You know damn well what I am doing here. What the hell has happened to the Chinese trade deal?”
“Well it passed the Commons vote but the first round of negotiations have not gone as we hoped.”
“That is the understatement of the bloody century. I was supposed to be on a plane to Beijing yesterday, ready to meet my representatives and get all these contracts signed. Your incompetence is costing me millions.”
“I am sorry but you can’t always control how these things go. The trade minister has hit some hurdles but he will get them sorted. You just have to be patient.”
“God, you are pathetic. I don’t do patient. I don’t pay people what I pay them to be patient. Getting you to PM was supposed to be the final piece in sorting out all these loose ends but you are as ineffective as PM as you are as a man.”
“Get out.”
William Hardacre stood up, regaining some of his composure.
“You get this sorted or I will take you down as quickly as I got you here. And don’t forget, I will not hesitate to expose your dirty little secret. I am sure Annabelle will be chuffed to know the truth about you.”
With that he slammed the door behind him and left.
James Hardacre sat down and put his head in his hands.
Everything was going wrong. He was going to lose everything. He picked up the phone to the trade minister. Time to kick some serious butt.
*
The doctor was buzzing. Bianca and Sam’s first round of treatment had worked. He would ring his contact and give him the good news.
He was on his way. On his way to getting out of this hell. To indulge in what he really wanted to do. This time next year, he hoped this would all be a distant memory.
53
Sunday came and it was time for Rob to put their plan into place. Shake off the tail, assuming he was even following him today.
Rob got out of his car in the hospital car park and scanned around as subtly as he could. He thought there was a good chance this man was watching him. As he started to walk towards the hospital entrance he thought he caught a glimpse of a black 4x4, about 100 yards beyond where he had parked and slightly back behind one of the pillars. Rob froze. What should he do? Was he about to be killed? He shook himself out of his stupor and rushed into the hospital.
His beautiful Anya was still lying there, quiet and serene but still no closer to waking up from this nightmare. How many weeks was it now? Rob was losing count. He did the usual and nattered on about everything and nothing, reading stories from the Sunday newspapers about the latest celebrity gossip. She just lay there as the machines beeped and pumped in the liquids that were keeping her alive.
Rob grabbed a quick lunch and did as Clark suggested, ordering a taxi from the ma
in entrance, well away from the underground car park. He kept an eye out and was reasonably satisfied that no one was watching him. He kept looking back as the taxi pulled away and drove through the centre of Reading. No black 4x4. He relaxed a bit and enjoyed the short journey.
Rob got up to Clark’s flat.
“Did it work? Were you followed?” exclaimed Clark. Slightly hyper and clearly concerned for his own safety.
“I think so. I didn’t see anyone following me and no black 4x4’s. I think we are in the clear.”
“I don’t like the word ‘think’ Rob. I would rather you were sure.”
“For God’s sake Clark. I am sure as I can be.”
Clark calmed down a bit and they settled in the man cave with the normal coffee pot ready and waiting.
“You know Rob, this is a really intriguing development. I am sure that they are onto you and this man in the black 4x4 has obviously been told to follow you, but why hasn’t he tried to kill you? After all it can’t be a coincidence he is in the same type of car that has been linked with all the murders.”
“Jesus, how can you be so blasé about this? I am pretty sure he was in the hospital car park watching me. I didn’t know whether he was going to jump out and kill me at any moment. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
“OK. I am sorry.”
Rob went quiet and Clark sensed that his obsession with keeping himself off the grid, whilst Rob was exposed to whatever threat this man posed, was pissing Rob off. He tried to calm the potential flashpoint.
“Look Rob, I am sorry that you are taking all the risks here but I really don’t think it would help anyone if I was exposed.”
“Clark, I just want Anya to wake up and end this nightmare. I will keep doing what you suggest but you’ll have to forgive me if I am a bit tetchy about having an alleged multiple killer on my tail!”
Clark quickly changed tack.
“I do have some good news.”
“What?”
“My mate has hacked the bank!”
“Oh my God. How did he do that?”
