BLOOD MONEY a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘You’re staying with me.’

  Lee’s hands jerked and twisted, and Frank’s pain became excruciating. He gritted his teeth and made himself think of happier times. Of his wife. He smiled. He opened his eyes and pulled Lee’s hands in closer, causing the knife to penetrate deeper into his gut. He was overcome by the unfairness of it all, that his life was to be ended by this piece of vermin.

  * * *

  Martin froze. Then rage consumed him. All he saw was Lee Chivers. Lee started to say something. Martin swung the enforcer back. Lee saw it coming. The solid, flat head of the steel ram struck him full in the face. The force was so great that Lee’s head came away from his neck and flipped back on his spine. The momentum of the enforcer carried it through the wooden kitchen unit behind, taking pieces of Lee Chivers’ skull along with it.

  Martin let the enforcer drop onto what remained of Lee Chivers. He turned his attention to the other man, who was bleeding heavily. The handle protruded from his T-shirt. Blood spread out from beneath him in a widening puddle. The man was looking up at him, his face ashen, his expression beaten and sad.

  ‘Am I going to be okay?’ he said, every word an effort.

  ‘You’ll be fine. I’ll call someone,’ Martin said, his voice shaky. He went to his daughter and rested his hand softly against her cheek. Their eyes met and he knew that she was going to be okay.

  ‘He saved my life,’ she said, and she looked over to where Frank was bleeding out.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Martin said. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  Sally shook her head. ‘He would have. Frank saved me.’

  Martin looked around him, and then his gaze returned to Frank. ‘There’s not much we can do,’ he said. He walked over to Frank. His hands rested on either side of the jutting knife. Martin placed his hands gently over Frank’s. He moved them together and pushed down on them so they put pressure on the wound. Frank was starting to drift away. His eyes were unfocused and he hardly reacted to Martin’s pressure.

  ‘I used to be an army medic.’ A man spoke from behind Martin, making him jump. The Peto Court caretaker stood over him. ‘If you can just keep pressure on it for a minute, I’ll get my kit.’

  Martin nodded. He pushed his hands as firmly as he could into Frank’s gut, either side of the knife handle. Martin turned to speak to the caretaker but he had already gone.

  He called out to Sally. ‘I’ll get you out of here, it won’t be long.’

  She was lying on the floor, her arms and legs trussed together, but her breathing was even.

  ‘He killed my friend, Dad. She must have been so scared.’

  ‘Who did? What friend?’

  ‘Lizzy. She’s lying over there, behind the bed.’ Sally rolled back towards her dad. She had fresh tear tracks marking her face. ‘I just want to go home,’ she said.

  The caretaker returned with a green bag that contained a full professional kit. Martin watched him pull at something and draw out a row of what looked like tea bags stitched together.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a clotting agent. You pack the wound with it and it should stop the bleeding. I’ve called an ambulance, they’re on their way.’

  Martin nodded. He stood and backed away to allow the caretaker to do his work. Frank was looking whiter and Martin wondered if there was any blood left to retain. He went over to his daughter.

  ‘We need to go,’ he said. He rinsed his hands in the sink and found a kitchen knife and cut the tape around his daughter’s ankles and wrists. Sally struggled to raise herself and Martin hooked an arm under her legs, wrapped the other behind her neck, and lifted her off the floor. He knew that the caretaker’s call for an ambulance, reporting a knife injury, would also alert the police. They didn’t have long to get clear.

  ‘Look after him,’ Martin called out. The caretaker made no reply. He began to carry his daughter towards the door.

  ‘Dad, the money. It’s all under the bath.’

  Martin suddenly remembered Emily Ryker telling him that Chivers kept large sums of money in the flat.

  ‘Can you stand?’ Sally nodded into his chest. Gently he placed her on her feet. He saw that the panel under the bath was loose, and it swung open easily. Martin tugged out a large black holdall. He pulled the zip back and he saw wads of twenty-pound notes. He whistled, pulled it shut, and grunted as he lifted it over his shoulder. It was heavy, heavier that he had expected, and he had to pause to steady himself.

  ‘I can walk,’ said Sally. ‘Let’s just go.’

  It was a slow walk back to the police car, whose blue lights still pulsed. Sally grunted in pain as she tried to find a comfortable position in the car.

  ‘I knew he was hurting you. I knew you were in there.’

  ‘And you saved me, Dad. Let’s get away from here. Please.’

  Martin killed the blue light and gunned the engine. He drove carefully out of the car park and into the one-way system. He pulled over just a few hundred yards up the road on Tontine Street. The engine fell silent.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I need to do something quick.’

  Sally’s dad opened the back door and grabbed the black holdall.

  ‘I’ll be one minute.’

  CHAPTER 39

  The office of Langthorne Taxis was quiet. The five plastic chairs lined up under the window were all empty when Martin entered. A bored-looking middle-aged woman looked through the serving hatch over a stained mug. She clocked the police uniform immediately.

  ‘Can I help you, boss?’ she said. Her accent was local.

  ‘I need a cab, for a delivery.’

  ‘You people not using cars anymore? Them cuts are worse than we thought, eh?’ She grinned.

  ‘It’s a personal job.’ Martin smiled back, nervously.

  ‘Sure, we can do that,’ the woman said. ‘When do you need it for?’

  ‘Now,’ Martin said. He dropped the bag across two of the plastic chairs.

  The woman did her best to peer through the window. ‘I’ll get someone out. There’s a couple of drivers upstairs.’

  Within a minute, a smiling thirty-something Polish-looking man walked through a door next to the serving window. Martin shook his hand.

  ‘I need this delivered to 12 Wartam Gardens. You’ll need to personally hand it to a woman at the address. She’s called Lorraine Robson.’

  The driver smiled. ‘No problem!’

  Martin held out two twenty pound notes, far more than would be required for a jaunt to the top of the town. The man shook his hands and his head. ‘No need for you, boss.’

  ‘Take it,’ Martin said. ‘It’s very important.’ Martin pulled a pen and an old receipt from his pocket and started writing. ‘Tell her that this is her husband’s stuff, and that he meant for her to have it. This is my mobile number. Call me if she’s not there or there’s any problem, any problem at all.’

  Martin Young fell back behind the wheel of the Ford Focus. His daughter looked even more exhausted than before. The bruising on her nose and face looked worse, and she was clearly struggling to keep her eyes open.

  ‘I assume that’s a clever front for what is actually your bank? Or you’re trusting them to deliver two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to our house without having a quick look and making a sudden stop?’

  ‘It’s going elsewhere.’ Martin grinned. He looked happy.

  ‘Elsewhere?’

  ‘Yeah. You and I, we’re both making a new start.’

  To Martin’s delight, his daughter smiled back. It was exhausted, pained, but it was a smile. ‘What you got at home, Dad? Drink-wise? ’Cause I’ll toast to that.’

  Martin was still smiling as the police car pulled away from the taxi rank and started up Tontine Street. A balled-up piece of tissue flew from the passenger window. It landed on the chipped tarmac, where a gentle breeze blew it into the gutter.

  * * *

  Thirty miles away, on a motorway washed in artificial orange light, a BMW M3 s
lowed for the junction leading to Helen Webb’s mother, and her twin girls. Helen Webb wiped away a single tear and planted her foot on the accelerator.

  She’d talk to them. Go and see them even. But not now. Not until this mess was all cleaned up.

  At the same time, a squad of thirty armed officers swarmed through 14 Cliff Road, Hythe, looking for the man responsible for the latest atrocities on Helen Webb’s patch. It would take them two more weeks to find him, but the search had begun for the man behind it all.

  CHAPTER 40

  Lorraine Robson was in her living room, and the urgent knock made her jump. Daniel was engrossed in his Xbox, which Lorraine had allowed him to play with as much as he liked since his father’s disappearance. It stopped the questions coming.

  Maybe this was him! Maybe Tony had come back. She saw the taxi pulled untidily across the drive and her hope increased. Maybe he’d just needed some space. Maybe he had just been trying to make sense of the news about their son, and now he was back. He’d got a taxi, and he was knocking at their door. She ran to the front door. A full-length mirror hung on the porch wall — her reflection showed a tired, tense figure. She’d kill him! Then she’d hug him as hard as she could.

  ‘Robson?’ Standing at the door was a smiling man with an oversized canvas bag gripped in both hands. He sounded Eastern European. ‘Lorraine Robson?’

  Lorraine nodded, crushed by disappointment.

  The man shook the bag a little. ‘The police boss, he said to bring it here for Lorraine Robson.’

  She didn’t move.

  The man looked confused. ‘Your husband? He said it was your husband’s, but he wanted it to be yours.’

  Lorraine looked at him, her brain whirling. They must have found some of his stuff and if they’d found that, they would be closer to finding him, or at least a clue as to what had happened to him.

  ‘Right, thank you.’ The taxi driver’s smile returned and he stepped into the porch and put the bag down on the floor. Lorraine eyed it, puzzled. The taxi driver thanked her and started to walk back towards his car.

  ‘I don’t owe you a fare, then?’ Lorraine called out after him.

  ‘No. The boss, he paid me good.’

  Lorraine pushed the door shut and looked down at the bag. Daniel had appeared at the door to the living room. ‘Was it about Dad?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Just someone dropping something off for Mummy.’

  ‘Okay.’ Daniel’s shoulders slumped and he turned away, back to his game. Lorraine dropped to one knee and pulled at the bag. It was heavier than she’d expected, and she didn’t recognise it as belonging to Tony. She leaned forward and pulled at the zip.

  Daniel paused the game. He went back to the hall, where his mother was kneeling by the bag, in floods of tears.

  ‘Mum!’ Daniel bent down to his mother and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Don’t be sad, Mum.’

  ‘I’m not sad.’ Lorraine took her son by the shoulders and looked into his eyes, smiling through her tears. ‘I’m not crying because I’m sad, Daniel. It’s going to be okay! You and me, we’re going to be okay. Your dad, wherever he is Daniel, he did it!’

  She pulled him towards her.

  CHAPTER 41

  ‘Long time, no see. What have you been up to?’ Emily Ryker had the broadest smile.

  It was a sunny autumn day. A gentle breeze stirred the first golden leaves on the ground. George Elms thought he’d never beheld a more beautiful scene.

  ‘I know, I know! Holiday’s over. I suppose it’s back to work now.’ George grinned.

  ‘Not straight away though, eh?’

  ‘Not straight away.’ George pulled on the passenger door to Emily’s two-year-old Volkswagen Beetle. It didn’t open.

  ‘Patience, man! Anyone would think you were in a rush to get away!’

  ‘Open the door, Ryker.’ Both were still smiling as they settled into their seats and Emily turned the key. The radio blared out Take That’s latest album. George stared at Emily.

  ‘I was having a singalong, wasn’t I? Don’t you fucking judge me, either. Bon Jovi! I still remember karaoke.’

  ‘That song goes higher than you’d think,’ he said.

  George went quiet. He gazed at the damp lawn leading away from the stone walls of the prison. His footprints were still visible. He had wanted to walk on grass again.

  ‘Let’s get out of here, shall we?’ Emily said.

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Where to, though?’

  George turned back to Emily. ‘Well, the world is my oyster!’

  ‘You sure you don’t want me to run you back to your family? I know you said—’

  ‘No, Ryker. I asked you to come because you’d understand. Because you wouldn’t insist that it was the best thing to do. You don’t know what’s for the best, and they don’t either. No one does, and that’s why I left them in protection.’

  Emily took her hands from the steering wheel. ‘Mate, I’m here, aren’t I? I get what you’re saying. It’s just . . . there’s no issue if you’ve had a change of heart.’

  ‘I haven’t.’

  ‘I shall not ask again.’

  ‘Good.’ George smiled.

  ‘When are they coming here to pick you up? Your wife and daughter?’ Emily said. George frowned.

  ‘Sorry. They’re going to be torn up when they get here, that’s all. I had to say it. Now I’ve said it, I won’t say it again.’

  ‘It was the only way I could stop them coming. They’ll find out that I already got out and there’ll be no need to come here. No need to put themselves at risk.’

  ‘Your release date has been publicised as three days’ time. No one knows. They could have picked you up and you’d all have been able to ride off into the sunset . . .’

  ‘Ryker.’

  ‘Okay.’ Emily stared out of the windscreen and gripped the steering wheel again. ‘So, I assume it’s vengeance then, is it? You know, some sort of terrible vengeance shall befall those that have wronged you? That sort of shit.’

  George’s expression softened. ‘Well, I was hoping for some breakfast first. You can’t go out avenging on an empty stomach, can you?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘So the nearest greasy café, please, driver.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘Emily, when am I not serious about food?’

  ‘Fair enough. Greasy spoon it is, for a dirty great breakfast.’

  Two George peered back out of his window as the car pulled away, taking a last look at the building that had taken away a chunk of his life, one he would never get back, no matter how long he lived.

  ‘And a cup of tea,’ he said, still looking out of his window.

  Emily nodded. ‘Gotta have a cup of tea to start the day.’

  ‘True,’ George said. ‘And I reckon this might be the nicest cup of tea I’ve ever tasted.’

  THE END

  LANGTHORNE POLICE SERIES

  Book 1: BODILY HARM

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/BODILY-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01MR94IP5/

  https://www.amazon.com/BODILY-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01MR94IP5/

  An edge-of-your-seat crime thriller starts with a vicious stabbing of a pretty teenage girl and her boyfriend on a local bus. She happens to be the mayor’s niece. It’s the final straw for the community. The police are desperate to get results and decide on a risky course of action involving undercover infiltration of the notorious Effingell Estate.

  Detective George Elms knows this hellish place extremely well, and his sharp investigative mind is put to work to solve the crime. The police are under immense media pressure and conveniently a local lowlife confesses to the attack. But George is not convinced. There are many layers of criminal and police motivation, and few people are what they seem.

  BOOK 2: PANIC BUTTON

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/PANIC-BUTTON-gripping-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01N4WATRV/

  https://w
ww.amazon.com/PANIC-BUTTON-gripping-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01N4WATRV/

  Someone is killing the officers of the Langthorne Police one by one. And in a sadistic twist he makes each victim push their radio panic button before they die, thus broadcasting their last moments to the entire force.

  FROM CHARLIE GALLAGHER

  Sign up at www.writercharliegallagher.com to be the first to find out about future releases and special offers — including the next parts in the series.

  And if you get a chance, please spend a few moments to leave your review on Amazon.

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  Thanks so much for reading, Charlie.

  VOCABULARY

  A & E: accident and emergency department in a hospital

  A Level: exams taken between 16 and 18

  Aggro: violent behaviour, aggression

  Air raid: an attack in which bombs are dropped from aircraft on ground targets

  Anorak: nerd (it also means a waterproof jacket)

  Artex: textured plaster finish for walls and ceilings

  Auld Reekie: Edinburgh

  Barm: bread roll

  Barney: argument

  Beaker: glass or cup for holding liquids

  Beemer: BMW car or motorcycle

  Belt and braces: using two means to the same end, i.e. thorough

  Benefits: social security

  Bent: corrupt

  Bin: wastebasket (noun), or throw in rubbish (verb)

  Biscuit: cookie

  Bloke: guy

  Blow: cocaine

  Blower: telephone

  Board: as part of the promotion process in the police you will face a ‘board’ or an interview panel.

  Bob: money