Campus Killings

by Oliver Davies

  “Ouch,” he said. “Lot less swollen, though.”

  “Aye. Having a golf ball on my head sucked.” I turned back around and rubbed my hands together. “Alright, slacker, let’s do something useful.”

  Stephen sighed but conceded, and we sat down at our desks. The day passed in a slow blur of me catching up with reports and paperwork, re-reading the statement I’d given, and reassuring the officers that came over to wish me well that I was whole and healed.

  “Mitchell,” Sedgwick said, as he was passing.

  “Yeah?” I looked up.

  He gave a stiff nod. “You’re back then.”

  “Aye.” I flashed him a grin. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Sedgwick’s lips twitched in what I swore was a smile before he shook his head and strode off.

  “You see that?” I said, leaning over toward Stephen.

  “The half-smile?” He chuckled. “Yep. Should’ve taken a picture for evidence, no-one will believe you if you tell them.”

  “Sadly, true.”

  After a day of paperwork and research, I desperately wanted to run home, but I still hadn’t been given the go-ahead by the doctor. As much as I wanted to run, I didn’t fancy passing out on the pavement and giving myself another concussion.

  Stephen patted my shoulder. “You’ll be back at it soon, I’m sure.”

  I grunted. “Lost all my fitness. My legs feel like jellyfish after only climbing the stairs.”

  Stephen rolled his eyes as he headed off out of the door. “That’s how the rest of us feel, Darren.”

  Driving home amidst the rush hour traffic, I brooded over the case and how, even after nearly getting my noggin smashed in, we still hadn’t managed to nail this guy.

  My evening proceeded in the same tone, with my excitement at returning to work overshadowed by frustration. I wasn’t supposed to be drinking alcohol, but I figured one beer wouldn’t hurt. I flopped down on the sofa with the TV on, though I mostly stared out the window at York’s eclectic skyline, the buildings looking like lego blocks of varying sizes all bunched together tightly.

  I was getting into my pyjamas when my phone started buzzing. The number wasn’t one I recognised, and I ignored it. But when it started up again as I was heading to the bathroom, I relented.

  “Y’hello?”

  “Uh, officer Mitchell?” It was a woman’s voice, high and scared, and I immediately straightened.

  “Yes, that’s me. Who’s this?”

  There was loud music in the background, and I had to focus on hearing her. “It’s- it’s Abby.”

  “Abby?” I said, surprised. “What’s wrong?” I checked my watch. It was nearly midnight.

  “I-I came back to York, just for a weekend,” she said, and I closed my eyes, lifting my hand to drag it through my hair. Her breath hitched. “I-I’m sorry. I thought it would be okay b-but there’s a g-guy.” She broke off, and I could hear her crying.

  “Abby?” I said, getting more alarmed by the second. “Where are you? Are you alone?”

  “At Nix, y’know, the nightclub? I-I’m with friends.”

  My shoulders relaxed marginally. “Good, okay. Tell me what happened, Abby.”

  “A guy, he tried to grab me,” she choked out. The music in the background swelled, and I winced, frowning as I tried to hear her over the raucous racket. “When I was coming out of the loos. I-I don’t want to g-go outside.”

  “Stay where you are,” I ordered firmly, already shucking my PJs off and fumbling one-handed for my trousers. “I’m on my way, okay? Stay near the bar where the staff can see you and near your friends. Ask if you can stand behind the bar for a bit, alright?”

  I was nervous that the crowd in the nightclub could conceal someone snatching her away and then it’d be too late.

  “Okay.”

  “Anything happens, call me right away. I’ll be no more than ten minutes, okay?”

  She agreed quietly, and I ended the call, immediately calling Stephen. I hated to keep disturbing his evenings but, especially after what had happened just a week ago when I’d gone off alone, I wanted his steady presence by my side.

  “Yeah, Darren?” Stephen sounded tense.

  “I’ve had a call from Abby-” I started.

  Stephen groaned, cutting me off. “I can’t tonight. I just can’t.”

  “Why?” I said, alarmed. I’d grabbed my keys and shrugged my coat on with my phone pressed against my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “My girl’s sick, really sick. We might need to take her to the hospital.”

  I took the phone from my ear and swore quietly. “Okay,” I said, once I’d gotten my calm back. “Stay with your kid. I’ll call Gaskell. I’ve got to go.”

  “Sorry, mate,” Stephen said.

  “It’s alright,” I said. “Hope she gets better.” I didn’t have the time for any more talk and hung up, dialling Gaskell straight after. I was heading out to the car, patting my pocket for my police badge and keys as I waited for Gaskell to pick up.

  He sounded groggy when he answered, and I figured he’d probably been asleep. “What?” he grunted.

  “Sir, I’ve got a call from Abby, the student. I need back up. Stephen’s kid is sick.”

  Gaskell swore and sighed heavily. “Fine, I’ll send someone. Where is she?”

  “Nix nightclub, said a guy tried to grab her. I’m about to drive over, sir,” I said, switching the phone to speakerphone, tossing it onto the passenger seat and putting the car into gear. “I can’t wait. Abby might be in danger.”

  He exhaled heavily. “Remember how I said you were a reckless fool, Mitchell?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I did call for backup this time.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just, no heroics, Mitchell, seriously. I’m not visiting you in hospital again this month.”

  I twitched a smile. “Noted, sir.”

  He hung up, and I pressed down the accelerator. I wasn’t in the police car so couldn’t turn on the sirens, but it was quiet enough at this time of night that it didn’t matter too badly.

  I pulled up outside Nix and, though we’d found Hannah at a different nightclub, seeing the similar, boxy building with its flashy sign and beer garden outside turned my stomach.

  Hurrying out of the car, I headed to the front of the queue where a bouncer tried to hold me up.

  “DCI Mitchell,” I snapped, flashing the badge. “I need in.”

  He frowned, looked me up and down. “I’ll get the manager.” He turned to head off.

  “No, mate,” I said sharply. “There’s a woman inside who might be in danger right now. You’re gonna let me in right now.”

  “Fine,” he growled. “I’ll escort you, whatever your name was.”

  “Mitchell,” I said tightly, shoving my badge away as the bouncer finally showed me in. Clearly, he wasn’t a guy with much respect for the law.

  I headed straight to the bar, shoving through the sweaty dancers, most of them a good decade younger than me and already plastered, though it wasn’t yet one. I got more than one drink spilt down me just on the short trip to the bar. The bouncer followed behind me, his bulk making it harder to push through even as people tried to get out of his way. The place was completely packed.

  I made it to the bar and looked frantically around, my shoulders dropping in relief when I spotted Abby’s dark hair. She was standing in the middle of a group of women in clubwear, and one of them had an arm wrapped around her.

  “Abby!” I called, shouldering my way over to her.

  Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and I was taken aback when she flung her arms around me. I tried to push her away gently, but she clung on.

  “I t-thought he was gonna kill me!” she sobbed.

  “Abby, Abby,” I said loudly over the music, taking her arms and firmly easing her back so I could meet her eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, where you can tell me what happened.”

  I wasn’t sure she completely heard what I’d said, but wh
en I yelled at the bouncer that we needed somewhere quieter, he grudgingly led the way. Abby trailed willingly after me, a couple of her friends in tow.

  The bouncer took us through to a back room, where a couple of staff were taking a breather. They looked surprised to see us, but just nodded to the bouncer. My ears were ringing, and my head throbbed, but I pushed it away and focused on Abby.

  “Okay, I need you to tell me exactly what happened,” I said. At least in here, I could actually hear myself talk.

  She nodded, fidgeting nervously. One of her friends took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I went to the loos,” she said after a minute. “And this guy tried to grab me. I was just really s-startled,” she continued, almost defensively, “so when he pulled me away, I didn’t really struggle, you know?”

  I nodded, frowning.

  “But he was trying to drag me out the side door.” She choked up and rubbed her fingers under her eyes, where her eye make-up had already run. “And Becky saw me trying to make him l-let go.” She looked over at the friend who was holding her hand, and I assumed she was Becky. “And when she came over, he let go of m-me and ran away.”

  She held out her arm, and I winced at the livid red mark on her upper arm, which was already slightly swollen and would likely bruise all the colours of the rainbow by tomorrow.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, my stomach turning over at the thought of how this could’ve ended up. “What did he look like?”

  I was almost hoping that this guy would turn out to be a garden-variety creep, because the fact that we had Will in remand meant that it really couldn’t have been him. But if it turned out that I’d been wrong and Will wasn’t the killer, as long as we caught the murderer, my pride would get over it. The most important thing was the students’ safety.

  “H-he was skinny, and with really scruffy hair, like he hadn’t brushed it in a week, you know?”

  That description tripped a wire in my head, but I couldn’t quite place why it sounded familiar.

  “His age? Anything else?”

  “About my age?” Abby said hesitantly, and Becky nodded.

  I looked at Becky, remembering that she must have seen this man, too, and she would hopefully have been less panicked at the time than Abby had been. “What did you notice?”

  She chewed her lip and her brow buckled as she thought. “His hair looked a pale kind of brown,” she decided. “And he had a narrow face, weaselly, right?”

  “Okay,” I said. “Which side door was it? Can you show me?” Becky nodded. I turned to the bouncer. “What CCTV do you have?” Maybe the cameras will have caught this guy as he sprinted off.

  “Just out front,” he said. “Maybe we caught him when he came in?” The expression on his face had softened from annoyance at my presence into something more amenable. Presumably, Abby’s story of nearly getting kidnapped had affected him.

  I nodded. “Yeah, we’ll need to see that. There’ll be more police turning up soon.”

  He grimaced briefly before nodding, tapping an earpiece he was wearing. “I need to tell my boss, and the boys out front.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He turned away, finger pressed to the device in his ear, and I heard him filling them in on the situation.

  “How about you two sit down for a minute?” I said to Abby and her friend, and indicated to the soft chairs at the side of the room. “Are you cold?” Becky had a jacket on, but Abby was only wearing a sleeveless black dress.

  She nodded, so I pulled off my coat, and then my jacket underneath it. I’d wrapped up warm in case I’d have to spend any significant amount of time outside. I’d been caught out more than once as a junior officer and left with ice blocks for feet.

  Handing Abby my fleecy jacket, I pulled my coat back on and took my radio off my belt. The bouncer interrupted me before I could radio for an update on the ETA for the officers.

  “Hey, mate,” he said, catching my attention. “The lad on the door says there’s a guy outside matching your description. He’s been loitering for a while.”

  I swore, fumbling to grab my radio. “Can we come at him from the side?” I asked the bouncer. He nodded, and I gestured for him to lead the way. Then I looked at Abby and Becky. “I’ll be right back, okay? Sit tight.”

  I hurried after the bouncer, he took me out of a side door, and I quickly radioed out to any nearby units, telling them not to approach from the front. I badly didn’t want this guy to bolt off when my lot came rushing in with sirens flashing. The only reason I hadn’t scared him off when I arrived was that I was in plainclothes and driving an unmarked car. It was a stroke of luck that he must not have heard me announcing my name and rank to the bouncer at the door.

  The bouncer put up a hand to stop me as we rounded the side of the building. We’d cut through the beer garden, where numerous club patrons had gathered to smoke and cool down in the icy air, and the bouncer had led the way down a narrow path towards the front of the building.

  “Can you see him?” I asked, as we paused. There was a queue of club goers, waiting to have their IDs checked, between us and the other side of the club entrance.

  The bouncer stood up straighter, giving him a good few inches on me. He glanced back at me. “Yeah, grey hoodie, over by the wall.” He abruptly held out a hand to me, and it took a moment before I reached out to shake it. “Sorry ‘bout earlier. I’m Dion. I’ll have your back with this guy. No way are girls getting grabbed on my watch.”

  “Appreciate that,” I said warmly. “No heroics, though, okay? This is what I’m trained for.”

  The bouncer, Dion, raised his eyebrows before he turned back to the front and led the way forwards. As a police officer, I ought to have been in front, but since Dion had eyes on this guy and I hadn’t seen him yet, I didn’t protest. He didn’t push his way through the crowd this time, which would have created too much of a commotion, but cut around the back, with me in tow.

  I spotted the narrow-faced man in the grey hoodie at the exact same time as he saw Dion and I heading right for him, and his eyes went wide.

  “I know him!” I blurted.

  “Who-?” Dion started to ask, but the guy bolted before I could answer, and I lurched into motion after him. He was damn fast, and I was out of practice, but all my pent-up energy pushed me forwards. I skidded over the cobblestone streets after him.

  It was Cal, the bird-watcher guy who Stephen and I had gone to interview. Dammit, I hadn’t pegged him for a killer or even suspected it when we’d spoken to him, yet here he was, caught nearly red-handed trying to grab Abby away from her friends.

  “Stop!” I yelled, knowing that he wasn’t going to. “Police!”

  I dashed around a corner, only to skid to a stop when I couldn’t see him anywhere. There, a side alley. I saw movement down in the shadows and jogged cautiously forwards, my heart pounding from the running. This felt far too much like how I’d been ambushed last time, and I dug out my phone to flick on my torch. I refused to be caught unawares again.

  The light illuminated the alley, and I turned in a circle, wary of Cal jumping me from behind. As I turned back to the front, I saw a shadowy figure dart forwards. His owlish eyes met mine for half a second before he turned and ran again and I sprinted after him, the light from my phone bouncing around the almost deserted streets of York. Strange how different the city looked in the dark, I thought as my breathing rasped in my chest. My head was throbbing, and I hoped to hell that all this running wouldn’t make it start bleeding again.

  Despite my week and a half off, I was gaining on Cal. He was slim, wiry and fast, but I didn’t think he was a practised runner, and he didn’t have my stamina. The narrow street we’d been racing along spilt out on a main street, wide and open and paved with sturdy stone slabs rather than the tricksy, slippery cobbles that threatened to trip you up with every step.

  With my boots gripping the stone firmly, I drove myself forward, feeling that ecstatic buzz of running at its height, whe
n I was fully into the zone but hadn’t yet grown tired.

  Cal was flagging, and I was almost within touching distance when he swerved suddenly. I struggled to turn as quickly, my momentum pulling me forwards, but he’d misjudged. His foot hit the wet metal of a drain grate, his leg swept out from under him, and he tumbled to the ground with a high-pitched yelp like a kicked dog.

  Coming to a stop as fast as I could, I all but threw myself down beside him to pin him down, only just avoiding the remains of a broken glass bottle caught in the drain’s metal bars.

  “No!” Cal yelled at me and tried to kick me in the stomach. “It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault!” Despite his breathlessness, he managed to scream loudly enough to startle me.

  I tried to grab his arms to pin him down, but it was like trying to get hold of an oiled snake. “Cal!” I snapped. “You’re not helping yourself!”

  Cal swore at me, shoving a knee against my chest hard enough that I was knocked backwards, barely avoiding hitting the back of my head on the stone.

  “I didn’t do it! I didn’t!” he was still shouting at me as I tried to grab him and stop him from bolting again.

  “Cal, stop!”

  He didn’t listen, seeming to be all but lost in panic and when he threw a punch at my face, I couldn’t move backwards fast enough to avoid it. Reeling backwards, I caught myself on the hard ground and hissed as something sharp cut into my palm.

  “You’re gonna lock me up,” Cal said, his voice back to a normal volume and still rasping with his quickened breathing. I’d been knocked back by his punch, and it didn’t take much for him to shove me onto my back, his knee on my chest.

  “Cal!” I gasped, the breath shoved out of me. “What’re you doing?”

  “Shut up!” he said. His hand was hot and damp when he pressed it over my mouth, blocking my nose. “Shut up! Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? I don’t deserve to go to jail, okay?”

  I couldn’t breathe and clumsily struck out at his head, but he caught my hand and pressed down harder on my mouth, inadvertently shoving the still-tender back of my head into the hard stone paving slab.