by Jacob Rayne
‘Yeah. He was a good friend of mine. Saved my ass a few times. Feel bad I couldn’t return the favour.’
‘Not your fault.’
‘I know. But believe me, we’ll get everyone we can onto this. I’ve got a kid the same age as Luke. I understand how you’re feeling.’
Mike nodded. ‘I reckon I can help with the investigation. I got a good look at him. Don’t think I’ll ever forget that face.’
‘Good news for us. When you find out your boy’s ok – which you will do, I assure you – we’ll take a statement.’
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Thanks, Sergeant Hirst.’
Chapter 12
Alfred jolted awake, startled by his unfamiliar surroundings.
He looked around, trying to place where he was. He heard knocking and realised that this was what had woken him. Voices followed the knocking.
Finally he remembered that he was hiding from the cops.
Being careful not to be spotted, he peered out of the window and saw the old woman talking to a cop at the front door.
Most of the words were muffled by the glass but he could make out the cop advising her to lock her doors as there was a lunatic on the loose. This brought a smile to his lips.
The old lady nodded and thanked him for his concern.
The cop looked up.
Alfred ducked away from the window, feeling sure he’d been spotted. His heart started to race.
A tense few minutes passed. The cop didn’t come upstairs. Alfred blew air through his pursed lips. This was all turning out to be a hassle.
But it would all be worth it when he got his hands on that little bitch Jane.
Chapter 13
Finally the doctor came in to see Mike. By his closed-book expression Mike couldn’t tell whether he was the bearer of good or bad news.
The seconds dragged out like hours between the doctor’s entrance and him opening his mouth.
‘He’s stable,’ he finally said.
Mike burst into tears of relief and joy then rushed the doctor and hugged him hard enough to hurt his ribs.
‘Thank you. Thank you,’ he sobbed.
‘It’s fine, Mr Miller. I’m just doing my job.’
‘You’re amazing. I can’t ever thank you enough.’
He let go of the blushing surgeon and apologised for making a scene.
‘I understand,’ he smiled. ‘Now, Luke is sleeping at the moment, but as soon as he wakes up I’ll come and get you.’
‘Is he going to be ok?’
‘I’m not going to lie to you; we almost lost him. But he’s fine now. He’ll have a nasty scar, and, no doubt, even nastier nightmares, but he’ll live.’
‘What do you drink, Doctor?’
‘Oh, you needn’t worry about that.’
‘I insist.’
‘No, really. It’s a pleasure to give a little boy the gift of life. It saddens me that I need to do such things but I’m glad that I can help. Now, I’ll come and get you when he wakes up. Try and relax.’
‘I can now that I know he’s alright. Thanks again, Doctor.’
Alfred decided that it was time he headed out from the old woman’s house and hoped he could just sneak out without her noticing.
As he set foot on the stairs there was a crash against the door.
It’s a SWAT team coming to take me in, his panicking mind told him.
But the door crashed again and a large youth came flying into the house as the lock busted open. The big youth caught his balance just before he landed in a heap on the floor. A metal bar glinted in his hand.
Alfred froze on the stairs, hoping to avoid being spotted by this new intruder.
He felt certain he’d been seen and time seemed to stand still until the youth finally moved into the front room.
Briefly, he thought about stopping the intruder before he attacked the old lady.
But he knew that the lad’s appearance would help him. It saved him hurting the old lady as he made his escape and would distract the police from the search for him.
He heard, ‘Stay in your seat,’ from the lad in the front room.
‘What are you doing?’ came the woman’s shrill cry. ‘If you don’t leave right now I’m going to call the police.’
Alfred moved down the stairs and towards the front door.
‘Tell me where you keep your money and I won’t hurt you,’ the youth said.
Alfred left the house quickly, fearing the old woman was about to start screaming. He heard a strangled cry then a flat, wet sound, and figured the old woman had been introduced to the metal bar.
Alfred felt bad for letting her die – she reminded him of his late mother – but it meant he was less likely to get caught.
He moved off into the darkness, trying not to picture what had happened to the old dear.
Chapter 14
Sergeant Hirst and his superior, Jason Brent, shook their heads as they took in the scene of the old woman’s death. A metal bar sat beside her on the settee, pieces of brain and skull still clinging to the weapon which sat in a small pool of blood on the dark green leather.
‘What sort of coward could do such a thing?’ Hirst pondered aloud.
‘Probably won’t be too long till we find out,’ Brent said, ‘since the stupid bastard left the murder weapon here.’
‘Probably hasn’t even bothered wiping it clean.’
They watched as the crime scene guys came in and did their thing. Took in the streaks of blood up the wall behind the settee. It was Hirst who first noticed the splintered lock on the tea cabinet.
Handprints in the dust showed that something had been taken from the cabinet. On the floor next to the tea cabinet was the old lady’s pension book.
‘So all this for the sake of a hundred quid,’ Hirst said.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Brent muttered, appalled at the depths to which some of the town’s scumbags would sink in order to get their drug money.
The crime scene guy looked up, a blank expression on his face. ‘Sorry, Sir. What was that?’
‘Just that all of this,’ Brent said, pointing to the sorry remains of the old lady, ‘was for her pension money.’
‘Fucking wankers round here,’ Hirst chipped in.
‘You can say that again,’ the crime scene guy said. ‘We’ve got some good prints here in the dust. Fucker may as well have written his name on the wall.’
‘Let me know when you have the results,’ Hirst said, turning and heading out to the car.
Chapter 15
A few hours after hearing that Luke was going to be ok, Mike finally got to see his son. He held him carefully as if afraid he might break.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget this,’ Luke said.
‘You will, son. Don’t worry. They’ll find him and he’ll get what he deserves.’
‘I hope they cut him like he cut me.’
‘I do too. Now you get some sleep.’
‘I don’t want to. He will be in my dreams.’
‘I’ll be here. I’ll wake you up if it looks like you’re having a bad dream.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
Mike kissed his son’s forehead and stroked his hair until he settled down to sleep.
Chapter 16
The crime scene guy had finished with the prints from the scene and he announced that they belonged to Johnny Taylor, a member of a local gang who were forever causing trouble in Marshton. The gang had been busy, robbing most of the street where the old lady had been killed.
Hirst’s eyes lit up. He’d been looking forward to finally getting something concrete on Johnny T. The little prick belonged behind bars.
He called Brent and told him the news.
Ten minutes later, Hirst kicked in Johnny T’s front door. A handful of armed police accompanied him and Brent as they made their way inside.
The twat was asleep, not even a hint of guilt over
the death of the old dear. Hirst kicked some remorse into him until Brent and the armed cops pulled him away.
Johnny T was bloody and battered and, for a change, speechless. Usually you couldn’t shut him up.
The cops cuffed him and dragged him off to the station.
The gang that Johnny T led were known locally as the Marshton Eight. Johnny T and his seven friends – Scotty, Dave, Otis, Tommy, Billy, Olly and Pete – were infamous in Marshton. Each of them had a string of convictions as long as the average arm.
One of Sergeant Hirst’s favourite phrases springs to mind, and it sums up the Marshton Eight perfectly: ‘If they had half a brain, they’d be dangerous.’
They felt that they were above the law, as the police had long given up trying to convict the gang, as they were repeatedly sprung from jail by their slimy lawyer, who grew fat and rich from their drug money. Consequently, the gang’s behaviour got worse.
There are pricks like this in every town. You’ll have seen them, the lads who shout abuse at everyone from the safety of their gang, but the moment they are alone, they are suddenly quiet as church mice; the lads who belittle anyone who does not follow the crowd; the gangs who beat people up, but baulk at the idea of a one on one fight; the lads who drive around town all night, trying to intimidate people by over-revving their souped-up cars.
Johnny T is the leader of the gang because he is the only one of them who has done time for murder (well, for a few months until his lawyer bribed the judge).
The others all look up to him as he is ‘A Respected Badass Killer’, to borrow Otis’s words. After all, how ‘badass’ it is to break into an old woman’s house and bludgeon her to death for her pension money.
The fact that the other seven are in awe of this spineless act should speak volumes.
Johnny T likes to brag that he ‘owned that jail,’ when in fact he cried himself to sleep every night, giving out drugs, money and blow-jobs to avoid being beaten by the real ‘badasses’ in prison.
Scotty and Olly are brothers from the McCain family, a long line of unemployables. They both hold the standard drug possession charge that seems to be mandatory to join the Marshton Eight.
Both have a long history of breaking and entering, and have logged jail time for assault in the past. Both brothers have a boxing background – in fact Scotty once held an amateur title – but neither of them is as hard as they claim to be.
Pete is the youngest of the gang, sometimes nick-named ‘Baby face.’ The nickname is partly due to his youth and partly because of the legion of bastard children he has fathered and then neglected.
He is the only one of the gang not to have a conviction for violence, but it should not be assumed that he’s a decent guy; he has attacked plenty of people, he has just never been caught.
Dave is a violent man, the oldest of the gang at twenty, with a string of robbery convictions (both armed and unarmed).
His longest stretch in jail came as a result of a shambolic attempt to rob Marshton post office. He carries a knife with him at all times, for opportune muggings, and is one of two of the Marshton Eight who are genuinely dangerous.
Luckily for the general public, he chooses to water down his sly criminal mind with copious amounts of cheap beer.
Tommy also has a string of convictions for violence, but he is not as brave, or as fearsome, as he would, no doubt, like everyone to believe. More often than not, he waits until the gang has their victim on the floor before he mercilessly puts the boot in.
Billy was also convicted with Dave in their ill-advised armed robbery of the post office. He used to go burgling with Dave, tying up and beating any occupants of the house.
On ‘special occasions,’ as he put it, he would set fire to the house and watch the flames from a safe distance. He almost killed a father and his two children during one of these incidents.
Otis is the other member of the gang who walks the walk. He possesses the standard drug dealing, possession and assault charges.
He has spent the longest time in jail too, serving two years for blinding a police woman with a Phillips head screwdriver. It should have been longer, but the Marshton Eight’s corrupt lawyer got his sentence reduced.
Otis also enjoys prank-calling the emergency services, particularly the fire brigade. A building collapsed, killing a teenage girl, while fire-fighters sped to one of Otis’s fake calls.
As a result, all incoming calls are compared to the tapes of Otis’s prank calls to avoid any precious time being wasted.
Chapter 17
Alfred woke up in the field where he’d spent the night. His friend hadn’t been home and Alfred’s clumsy attempts to break in had been met with an ultrasonic alarm.
After fleeing the scene, he’d hidden behind a hedgerow where sleep had claimed him. He groaned as something landed on his lap and opened his bleary eyes to see a few scruffy kids throwing stones at him.
As a second stone landed in his lap he rolled over and glared at them.
‘Piss off before I gut the pair of you,’ he growled.
The kids bolted, shocked by his sudden fury.
He groaned, realising that they would tell their parents. After parents came cops. Best get moving.
His house was out of bounds as it was under police surveillance.
Also, which Alfred found more worrying, the kid’s dad knew where he lived.
An encounter with the lad’s pissed-off father was not high on Alfred’s list of things to do.
The answer to the problem hit him like a bolt of lightning.
The old lady’s house. She was dead. No one had known he’d been there. The cops would probably have finished their checks by now. He’d lie low in the house for a few days then he’d go for Jane.
Trying his best not to look suspicious, he made his way back into town.
His muddy clothes drew attention to him but not as much as he’d feared.
At the old lady’s house, he did a lap of the block to make sure there were no lurking cops. Satisfied that the place seemed clear, he peered in through the window and flinched back as he saw a man in the front room.
A few minutes later the man left. He didn’t look around as he stepped out of the front door and so didn’t see Alfred.
Alfred recognised him from photos he’d seen in the paper. He was a cop, and a good one at that.
It was fortunate that the youth had killed the old woman. That had taken a lot of heat off him.
Alfred ducked under the crime scene tape and pushed open the front door.
Once inside, he took a look in the front room. The old dear’s corpse was gone, but the splashes of blood remained on the walls.
Shaking his head at the youth’s cowardice, he climbed the stairs and headed for the old woman’s bed.
Chapter 18
Three days later, Luke was discharged from the hospital. The wound in his belly was still agonising but it was healing well with no signs of infection.
The pain on Luke’s face saddened and angered Mike. He found himself wishing that he could lay his hands on the asshole clown and vent his frustration.
Luke was coping relatively well, but he had terrifying nightmares which made him wake, screaming.
Feeling sorry for her younger brother, Jane told him that he could sleep in her room if he wanted. He took her up on the offer, hiding himself beneath the bed with his back against the wall. That way the clown couldn’t sneak up on him.
He hauled a duvet over himself and slept peacefully. Under the bed the nightmares didn’t seem to be able to reach him.
Alfred woke with a start after a nightmare in which the old woman with the busted skull had come back to life and tried to make amends for him not saving her.
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. His breathing gradually slowed. All this inactivity was no good for him. It was time to get out into the world and start scaring people again.
He decided to get some face-paint from the joke shop in town. The killer clown was ready to make an
other appearance.
Chapter 19
Later that night, Luke was asleep in his usual spot under his sister’s single bed. Above him, Jane was snoring gently. The house was quiet and still. The only other sounds were the sigh of the wind and the gentle pattering of rain hitting the windows.
Luke was woken by the distinctive squeak of the front door opening. He remained under the bed, his mind full of panicked thoughts, unable to think straight. The idea to call for help didn’t occur to him.
Chapter 20
Alfred smiled at himself as he caught a glimpse of his sinister face-paint in the hallway mirror. That little bitch Jane was going to shit herself when she saw him.
He let out a chuckle at the thought of the horror he was about to inspire in her and made his way through the silent house to the stairs. The hammer in his left hand was ready to taste blood. His cleaver was tucked into the back of his clown costume.
He carefully made his way up the stairs, nervous excitement making his heart race, making his breath come in fast, ragged bursts. His smile grew as he reached the upstairs landing without being discovered.
A floorboard creaked beneath his foot as he stepped towards the doors to his right.
He crouched, his ears straining for noises from the rooms. He felt certain he’d been discovered, but no one came.
After a long moment he moved down the corridor again.
One of the doors bore an ornate sign that spelt out Jane’s name. Smiling, he turned the handle. The door creaked open, revealing his sleeping target.
After a second’s debate he decided to take out the parents first. That way he and Jane could have some quality time together without being disturbed.
There was the little lad to take care of too, but he could wait until Jane had suffered his wrath.
He stepped across to the parent’s room, wincing as the floorboards creaked. The open door invited him into the bedroom where the man was snoring on the bed.
