by John R McKay
‘I think we need to pay him a little visit,’ she replied.
‘Goes without saying,’ he said. ‘I’ll speak to Raymond and get it sorted. Then we’ll make our way over to Failsworth nick. I want to lead this arrest.’
Julie smiled. She was beginning to get excited. Finally they were getting somewhere and would hopefully have some good news for Danny Cooke and Lucy’s family very soon. Lea stood up and made his way over to Raymond’s office while Julie gathered her things together. Pearson would be able to answer their questions regarding the connection between Lange and the hit and run, maybe not willingly at first, but once he knew he was facing a murder charge and life in prison, he would probably let them know everything. She had met this type of thug before and when it came down to it, they always looked out for number one.
After a couple of minutes Lea returned hurriedly from Raymond’s office. ‘Get your coat Julie,’ he said. ‘We’re off to Failsworth. Raymond is going to let the locals know we’re on the way and hopefully, by the time we arrive we’ll be ready to brief them. They’ll let us know what type of character we’re dealing with. His charge sheet is massive and he will be well known to them, I’ve no doubt.’
Julie rose. ‘All ready,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and get this arsehole.’
Lea smiled at her. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it.’
#
Danny and Clive Brown sat at a table in the Oxo Tower Restaurant at Barge House Street on the South Bank of the Thames. The weather had warmed up and they both ordered roast lamb from the lunchtime menu and were enjoying a bottle of red wine together while they waited for their food. The restaurant was on the seventh floor and had good views over the river and St Paul’s Cathedral could be seen in the near distance. Barges and pleasure craft, carrying tourists to and from the Tower of London could be seen passing by underneath them. It was a perfect location to have some lunch and to contemplate what Danny would do with the remainder of his time in the capital. He knew that he would have to return home as scheduled, the next day, in order for thin to get his head around what was happening to him. He needed Grace to help him with that.
The package Danny had been left to him by Sir Peter was the table before them, unopened. He was aware that he kept staring at it and realised that he needed to know what was in it, what information the letters and journal and whatever else was under the brown paper wrapping contained. Maybe then hew would get some answers. Answers that he was now desperate for. Why on earth had he been left so much property and so much money by a man whom he had not heard of until a couple of days ago?
It all seemed to much to take in, particularly when he was trying to understand and come to terms with what had happened to Lucy only two weeks ago. He felt that he had absolutely no control over his life. And then he thought, ‘only two weeks ago’. Two weeks. Well not quite. Thirteen days. Thirteen days of pure hell and chaos. He had gone from being just a normal, average and happy person with no worries, content with life and the beautiful girlfriend that one day he intended to marry, to desolation and despair, and now, extreme wealth. All in the short space of only thirteen days.
Despite the money he had now inherited it did not make him feel any different. The loss of Lucy was one thing that he would never get over. As he sat there, sipping at the wine, the familiar and almost welcome pain returned to his stomach. No matter how rich he had become, none of the money was going to bring her back and that was all that he truly wanted.
‘It must still be very hard,’ said Brown, sensing Danny’s melancholy. ‘All this is probably not making a blind bit of difference is it?’
‘None whatsoever,’ replied Danny. ‘I just can’t get her out of my head. The whole last fortnight seems like a bad dream. And someone else’s bad dream at that. Things like this just don't happen to guys like me. My life seems to be happening to me and I have absolutely no control over it and I dread to think what’s going to happen next, what’s around the corner.’
He took another sip of his wine and put the glass back down on the table. Brown looked at him. ‘I know. It’s all surreal to me too. There’s obviously some connection between what’s in that package, the investigations Sir Peter had me do and where you fit into it all. What I suggest is that you go somewhere quiet, without any distractions and go through it all. Maybe then you’ll get the answers you need.’
‘Maybe,’ replied Danny. ‘Hopefully.’
‘So what are your immediate plans?’
‘Well to be honest I’m not too sure. I was thinking of maybe staying over tonight, because I just feel so tired, but it might be a better idea to check out and go back home today. I may just take this thing home,’ he indicated the package in front of him, ‘and open it with my mother. We could go through it together.’
‘That’s probably a good idea.’
The waiter returned to the table carrying two plates of food and placed them in front of the two men. After he had left them, Danny said, ‘I’m not sure I can eat this. I don't fee too well.’
‘At least try Danny,’ said Brown.
‘It just doesn't seem right,’ Danny replied. ‘It’s like I’m celebrating my good fortune when Lucy is dead. It just doesn't feel right.’
‘I know you must feel,’ said Brown. ‘But you still have to eat.’
Danny smiled at him. ‘You’re beginning to sound like my mother.’ He picked up his knife and fork. ‘Yeah, I suppose you're right.’
‘OK Danny,’ said Brown. ‘This is how we will work this. You get yourself back home and I’ll start to get things moving from here. You will have to come back here to sign paperwork and meet up with the bank manager. If you want I can sort out all the legal aspects for you. Take a holiday. Go away and relax somewhere, God knows you deserve it. When you get back we can meet up and you can decide what you want to do with the properties. There are a few people whose livelihoods depended on Sir Peter and I’m afraid that you are now responsible for them. What you choose to do is entirely up to you, but we can discuss all that when you return. What do you say?’
Danny put a forkful of food into his mouth and looked across the table at him. ‘Yes, I suppose that makes sense. I’ll go back to the hotel and check out and get the next train from Euston back home. I’ll read he stuff in this package and then I might take a flight somewhere sunny. Might take a mate with me too if they're up for it. I suppose I can afford to pay for them,’ he laughed humourlessly.
‘Good man,’ replied Brown. ‘Now get some food down you and then we can both make a start. And one more thing,’ he looked into Danny’s eyes. ‘Like you said, you didn't ask for any of this. This has happened to you. Whatever reason Sir Peter decided to leave you all this must be damned good one, so therefore, in my eyes, you're one hundred percent entitled to it. Enjoy it. Do some good with it. I’m so glad it didn't go to his brother and the man’s nauseating offspring. Take it for what it is.’
Danny sighed. ‘Maybe you're right. Things are going to be extremely different for me from now on. I wonder what my mother is going to say when I tell her.’
#
Julie and Jim Lea sat in the unmarked car watching the entry to the block of flats that Kieran Pearson called home. This was not a particularly nice part of town but it was also not classed as a trouble spot by the local police.
They had arrived at Failsworth police station an hour earlier and had been assigned four uniformed police officers to assist with the arrest. They were now in a white police van, parked around the corner, out of sight, awaiting further instructions. They had briefed the three policemen and one policewoman on the circumstances leading to their interest in Pearson and had also received some information from them, regarding the suspect. They now had a police photograph of him. Back a the station, DI Raymond was sorting out the paperwork and they were now just waiting for the go-ahead to break in, if necessary, and make the arrest. Julie knew that she would take great pleasure with this one. She had been lookin
g forward to providing Danny Cooke and Lucy’s parents with some good news.
Pearson was, by all accounts, a habitual offender. He had served five years for drug dealing and had done another stretch in Strangeways for grievous bodily harm on an ex-girlfriend some time ago. He had left her with a six inch scar on her cheek after smashing a glass bottle into her face during an argument in a packed pub. A truly nasty character who Julie would be more than happy to lock up for a very long time.
They sat in silence, watching the comings and goings of the occupants of the building. They had been there for ten minutes now and so far had only witnessed a young mother wheeling a pram out the entrance and walking off up the street, in the direction of the local shops and a postman delivering the mail. Julie looked down at the photograph of Pearson that she held on her lap. He was a somewhat ugly looking man, a bent nose that had probably been broken more than once, a shaved head and an amateur tattoo on his neck of something she could not quite make out. Altogether he looked quite intimidating for a twenty eight year old man, but she had dealt with many of his type in her so far short police career and he would not scare her.
She looked across at Jim Lea, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He had not been able to drive due to his damaged hand. ‘Nearly there,’ he said. ‘You can have this one Julie. You deserve it.’
‘Thanks Jim,’ she replied. ‘I’m going to take great pleasure in this. And hopefully he’ll resist a little too. The would make it even better.’
Lea laughed. ‘My God, you're learning fast.’
Lea’s mobile phone rang and he answered it immediately. ‘Hello boss……yeah, right…..OK.’
He hung up and turned to Julie. ‘Away we go!’
Julie picked up her personal radio and spoke into it. ‘OK everyone, we’re on. Let’s do it.’
Julie and Lea exited the vehicle as the police van came around the corner. It parked next to them and the four officers got out. They were dressed in body armour, one of them carrying a door ram. Lea approached them. ‘OK. The suspect lives on the fourth floor. I want two of you to use the stairwell and the other two to get in the lift with us. I’ll knock on the door first….give him a chance to come quietly. If he doesn't respond then you are free to smash the door in and we’ll drag the bastard out. Any questions?’ All four shook their heads. ‘OK,’ he continued. ‘Let’s go.’
They made their way to the lobby and Lea pressed the button for the lift. Two of the officers, one male and one female opened the door leading to the stairwell and set off up the stairs. The lift door opened and the four of them got in, Julie pressing the button for the fourth floor. They stood in silence as the lift ascended, Lea giving her and encouraging smile. He read the graffiti that was plastered over the walls of the lift. These places never ceased to amaze him. How people could vandalise their own place of residence was beyond him, something he could not get his head around.
The doors opened leading to a corridor containing doors to four individual flats. The corridor walls showed no signs of vandalism which was a marked contrast to the lift. A strong odour of paint made it apparent that they had not long been painted by the council. The door to the flat they wanted was the second on the right and the four of them approached it as the two police officers who had used the stairwell joined them.
When all were in position Lea knocked on the door with his good left hand and shouted: ‘Police, open the door Kieran, we need to talk to you.’
There was no response. He knocked again, ‘Pearson, open the door.’
Again no response. Lea indicated to the policeman with the door ram and stepped aside to allow him to do his job. With the full force of a fourteen stone policeman behind it, the door ram smashed into the hinge at the top of the door, splintering wood and bending the door inwards, ripping it from the jamb. The second hit was enough to virtually rip it from the frame completely, leaving it hanging at an odd angle by the screws of one hinge. The policeman stepped aside as the the other three uniformed officers stormed throughout the doorway, quickly followed by Lea and Julie. ‘Police, police, police,’ they shouted as they quickly made their way into the flat.
Julie was beginning to think that Pearson was not in the property and that they had missed him, when she heard a shout from the kitchen area. ‘Found him boss, in here.’
Julie was not expecting the scene that met her eyes on entering the kitchen. She felt her breakfast rise up in her throat as the sight and smell hit her but quickly swallowed it back down for fear of contaminating what was an obvious murder scene and making a fool of herself. The young policewoman who followed her into the room was not so self-controlled, running from the kitchen, out of the flat and into the hallway outside, releasing the contents of her stomach onto the floor just to the side of the destroyed door.
What remained of Kieran Pearson was lying on the kitchen floor with a kitchen knife sticking out of his chest. His neck area was a mass of congealed blood and it looked almost like someone had tried to hack his head off. A large pool of dried blood covered the area around him and some of his blood could be seen splattered across half of the kitchen, even reaching as high as the ceiling. Another knife lay at the side of the body. His discoloured eyes stared vacantly into space, a look of complete shock and horror on his drawn face. He looked like he had been dead for some time. The nauseating stench of death filled the whole room.
Lea turned to Julie, ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, seeing her look of distress, her face very pale.
‘I will be,’ she replied and turned and left the room.
Lea turned to one of the uniformed officers. ‘Ring it in please mate and cordon off the flat too.’ He turned to another. ‘Go and see how your colleague is will you. She looks like she may need to sit down and have a glass of water.’
‘Will do Sarge,’ he replied.
Lea left the kitchen and sighed. He found Julie outside the flat leaning against the wall, her eyes closed. She opened them when she sensed Lea’s approach. ‘Jesus Jim,’ she said, ‘I wasn't expecting that.’
‘I don’t think any of us were. Especially not her,’ he nodded to the policewoman who was now being comforted by her colleague.
‘I nearly did the same thing,’ Julie admitted. ‘At least she was able to hold it in before she left the flat. She can have a pat on the back for that.’
‘So where does this take us do you think?’
‘I think we already have a suspect don't you? And to be honest Jim, I think we need to warn Danny Cooke. This is probably all related and he could be in danger.’
‘I was thinking the same thing myself,’ replied Lea. ‘Give him a ring now will you. Tell him to get back up here as soon as he can and to be vigilant. When the support team arrives we’ll get back to the station and get in touch with the Met. Get them to bring Lange in for questioning.’
Julie took out her mobile phone. She had Danny’s number in her contacts list and dialled it. She cursed as it went straight to voicemail. ‘Hi Danny,’ she said. ‘Can you ring me straight away. As soon as you get this message. It’s extremely important. Speak soon.’ She hung up.
Suddenly she felt an enormous sense of foreboding throughout her body and shivered involuntarily. She was now seriously worried about the welfare of Danny Cooke. The reason he was down in London, she could not help thinking, was somehow connected to the scene she had just witnessed in the flat behind her and that Pearson and Lange had purposefully targeted him and Lucy with the car. Hopefully Danny could bring some answers back with him from the capital. As yet there was no motive, no reason for any of this. Maybe Danny could provide one.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Clive Brown had booked Danny a room on the ninth floor of The Royal Garden Hotel on Kensington High Street. From his window he had a glorious view over Kensington Palace Gardens and as he looked out he thought that Lucy would have loved to have stayed there. He knew, however, that this hotel would have been well out of their price range and
they would have had to have settled for something a little less opulent if they had been on a trip to the capital. The sun was shining brightly and from the window he could see scores of tourists, and workers taking late al fresco lunch breaks enjoying their day, sitting on the grass, some of them taking photographs of each other as they cavorted in the afternoon heat. Danny felt a little bit jealous. These people were oblivious to his still lingering pain and to the momentous life changing morning that he had just experienced. Despite inheriting an absurd amount of wealth, for as yet no apparent reason that he could see, he could not help feeling a deep sense of unhappiness that Lucy was not there to share it with him.
He looked over to the bed where his small suitcase lay, the brown paper package secured inside it. He had returned from his lunch with Clive Brown a half hour ago. Brown had agreed to contact him that evening in regards to when he would be needed to return to London to go through the process of having the inheritance signed to him and Danny was killing time before he had to leave for the half past two train from Euston station. He had ordered a taxi through reception and they were going to ring him when it arrived. He would get back to Wigan North Western at around half past four and would be home twenty minutes after that. He had not yet contacted his mother as he was not feeling too well and wanted the news of what had happened sink in. He would give it a few more minutes before he made the call.
He had checked his mobile phone and noticed that he had a missed call from Julie Green and a new voicemail message. Whatever she wanted would have to wait until he was ready to speak to her, the call to his mother would come first and he was still working out exactly what he would say. He put the phone back into his pocket.
Danny sighed then moved away from the window and sat on the bed. He took the phone from his pocket again and looked at the screen. Oh well, he thought, now is as good a time as any. He selected his mother’s number from the contacts list and pressed the dial button. As he did so, the telephone on the bedside table began to ring.
