With Deadly Intent

by KA Richardson

  Both girls took a step back as Jameson pulled a knife from his pocket, the blade glinting as he moved it from hand to hand.

  A sudden burst of static on the radio made him jump, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. When it remained silent, he said slowly, ‘Jameson? Since when do you call me by my last name? I’m gonna finish what I started. But this time you won’t survive to send in the stupid appeal letters. You won’t be able to deny me anything. And as for your friend, she’s hot, it’s been a while since I was with a woman.’

  He took a step towards them.

  ‘Carl, please, put the knife down. I’ll do what you say, you don’t need the knife.’ Cass felt her voice falter, as she stepped between him and Deena. Please God, let Deena have hit the emergency button.

  Suddenly a siren wailed in the distance, rapidly approaching, and Carl glared at her.

  ‘Don’t know what you did, but I’m not going back. They’ll have to kill me first,’ his eyes widened as the siren came closer. ‘I’ll see you around, Cass,’ he sneered as he leant in and placed the knife to her cheek. Cass inhaled sharply, smelling his sickly aftershave as he drew the knife downwards slowly causing a thin line of blood to appear. The cut wasn’t deep, and the knife was sharp. She barely registered the movement. As suddenly has he had appeared, Jameson ran to the other side of the van and down a nearby cut.

  ‘No way! No way is he getting away. Not this time,’ muttered Cass, her fear replaced with a rush of anger and adrenaline. Taking off at a dead run, she gave chase.

  Deena stood for a second, comprehension slow in dawning on her. ‘Shit! Cass, stop!’ Grabbing her radio, she started shouting directions as she followed them.

  Silksworth, Sunderland – 25 October

  It took him a moment to comprehend what was happening.

  The emergency beep had sounded on his radio, opening the airwaves and allowing every officer on that operating channel to hear the exchange. He listened carefully, waiting for Comms to give the location.

  Anger bubbled inside him when he heard the name Jameson and realised it was Cass in trouble. This wouldn’t do. It was no one else’s job but his to deal with Cass. He needed to see how she dealt with Scott’s murder, needed to know if she’d be the one to link it all together. It had almost become a necessity. If she figured it out, maybe he would let her live. Maybe.

  But not if Jameson got his filthy paws on her.

  There was a burst of speech as Comms gave the last known location as the cut on Grey Street. He felt a smile widen. He was just round the corner.

  He felt a stab of uncertainty – he was in the work van. But, pushing the thought to one side, he pulled away from the kerb. He could hear sirens converging on the area. Officer needs assistance was an urgent call and everyone from community officers to inspectors would be in the area shortly. He needed to find Jameson – and fast.

  He tried to decide what Jameson would do. The man wasn’t familiar with the area, but he was. Setting his mouth to a grim line, he swung the van around and headed towards the park.

  His heart leapt as he saw Cass and Deena, looking around in bewilderment, but averted his gaze and drove by.

  He drove up alongside the park, slowing to a crawl as he scanned the tree line. The sirens grew louder and that’s when he saw him. A man was sloping towards the next exit, his eyes glancing around furtively.

  He felt excitement in his gut. It had to be him.

  He pulled up alongside, offering silent thanks to the powers that be for providing staff with unmarked vans.

  Leaning to the left, he flung open the passenger door.

  ‘Unless you want to be caught, get in.’ His voice was soft, and any sane person would have noticed the menacing undertone, but Jameson was desperate. Quickly he obeyed and ducked down. He’d already ditched the knife, knowing that evidence would incriminate him.

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ he said, glancing over. Slowly, realisation dawned as he took in the police badge on the jacket thrown over the back of the driver’s seat. Jameson’s face paled. ‘Fuck.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the badge, I’m just like you,’ he said soothingly, doing his best not to choke on the words. They were nothing alike. Jameson had just proved that by getting into a car with a stranger. He would never have made such a rookie mistake.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Jameson, distrust obvious on his pasty face.

  ‘Somewhere safe,’ was the ominous reply. How had this guy managed to beat up Cass? He looked like he could barely fight his way out of a brown paper bag. He felt a quiet surge of adrenaline – this was unexpected. It almost felt like a treat.

  It was risky, taking Jameson to his unit. He knew there was no CCTV covering that section of the estate. But he also knew that people are nosy busy bodies. And it was broad daylight. He had to keep Jameson calm, so they didn’t look suspicious.

  He pulled the van up in the car park and jumped out.

  ‘There’s money inside, and keys to an old car if you need it,’ he said quietly, dangling the carrot.

  ‘Why would you do that for me, man? You don’t know me.’ Jameson sounded suspicious and looked ready to bolt.

  He though on his feet and decided partial honesty was the best bet.

  ‘But I know Cass. That bitch deserved the beating you gave her. The same as the one she had off me.’

  Jameson relaxed. He was in the company of a brother in arms, a comrade.

  ‘Would’ve done more this time like. Bitch put me away. Just lost eight years of my life rotting in a cell. I’ll pay you back the money, mate. What do I call you anyway?’

  He couldn’t believe it had been that easy. Some people were so gullible. With a half-smile, he said, ‘John.’ Might as well stick to his cover.

  He unlocked the door to the unit and motioned Jameson through ahead of him. His eyes adjusted quickly to the low light, and silently he grabbed the heavy Stihl saw off the side.

  Jameson didn’t see it coming. The tool connected with his head with a dull thud, and he fell face down onto the floor.

  Now he had to make sure Jameson wouldn’t get up. He felt deep satisfaction as he raised the saw high above his head once more. The second crunch was louder, and when he looked down, Jameson’s eyes were open, directed straight at the front door, and blood was seeping from the wreckage that was his head. A spreading pool was working its way through the sawdust on the floor. He grabbed a latex glove from his pocket, pulled it on and placed a finger against Jameson’s neck.

  There was nothing there. No faint flutter of a heart trying to survive. Just emptiness.

  Jameson would be fine until he returned later. It was by no means his most elegantly designed kill or disposal, but he was glad it was over. He scattered more sawdust around his victim’s head, watching it absorb the red liquid. Later he would have to clean, but now it was time to get back to work. He would think about what to do with the body after darkness fell.

  Ryhope Police Station – 25 October

  ‘Are you sure you don’t need to see a doc? Shock can come on later, Cass, you know that.’ The cautious tone of Alex’s voice betrayed the worry he was trying to hide.

  ‘Alex, I’m fine. Honestly. I’ve done my statement, it’s just a scratch. I was more afraid he would hurt Deena.’ Cass sighed loudly. ‘I can’t believe I was stupid enough to run after him though.’

  ‘Dunno if I’d call it stupid, I mean it was stupid, but also pretty brave. You faced your demons head on. And your demon had a knife. How many of us can say that?’

  Cass just shook her head silently. Jameson could have killed her. She hadn’t thought to press the orange button. Thank God Deena had her head screwed on. She was telling Alex the truth though; she’d been more scared for Deena. Maybe she really was starting to move past the scars left by Jameson, and not just the physical ones either.

  ‘The Super’s given me permission to take you home and make sure you rest up. As I say, shocks a funny thing. It can come on later when your adrenaline sett
les down. You about ready to go?’

  Cass nodded, double checked with Fred that he and Johnny could cope with the jobs and pulled her ID card out of the computer. Deena had already left, under strict instructions to ensure she had someone with her overnight. She had Cass’s number in case she needed to talk.

  It was all sorted, so why did Cass feel like she was missing something? She knew the officers hadn’t found Jameson but there were country wide alerts out for him, he wasn’t going to get far. She felt like there was something just outside of her peripheral vision. Something she’d seen but couldn’t put her finger on. But she’d been over events several times now and couldn’t for the life of her fathom what it was.

  Sighing to herself, she grabbed her coat and followed Alex down the stairs.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Unit 14b, Enterprise Park, Sunderland – 26 October

  It had been pretty straightforward so far. He’d rolled Jameson’s body onto plastic wrapping. It was the kind you could get at any hardware store and he always had a stock of it for wrapping the coffins before they were dispatched. He was wearing a full crime scene suit with the hood up, boot covers, and gloves.

  One of the joys of being the handyman was that he had a key to every room in the station, including the CSI Store. He didn’t intend to leave any trace evidence on Jameson’s body. Granted there would be flecks of sawdust, but that could have come from anywhere.

  He grunted as he heaved the body onto the trailer behind the car. Rigor Mortis had set in, and was only just starting to loosen, making the body less pliable. He wanted the body to be found by a police officer and knew a small police station, a few miles from his own, which was not manned overnight. He also knew the CCTV there had been broken for months. They would call off the man hunt then, and Cass would see what he had done. Maybe she’d process the body or attend the post-mortem.

  He placed a large blue tarp over the body to hide it from curious eyes and set off.

  The journey was uneventful and in no time, he had pulled in at the side of the station, his car now obscured by overhanging trees.

  He huffed as he hefted the dead weight off the trailer as if it were nothing more than a slab of meat, positioned it at the back door and pulled the plastic away from Jameson’s face. Then came the note, cleverly (he thought) printed at the local library, which he pinned to the plastic. It contained just two words.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  Stepping away from the body, he pulled off the protective clothing and wrapped them together in a ball. He drove out of the station, whistling eerily, and stopped a couple of miles from his home, to throw the wadded suit into a litter bin.

  Time for a cup of tea, he decided. He had worked hard, he deserved it. Besides, it was almost time to get ready for his last shift of the week.

  Cass’s Cottage – 26 October

  Alex took a sip of coffee and swallowed with a soft sigh. He knew coffee was almost as clichéd as the police and donuts, but he loved the caffeine enriched brew, black, steaming and strong. Cass wasn’t due at work until 11 a.m. and she was still sound asleep in bed. Ali had been up since goodness knew when and had gone for a run. So Alex got to enjoy his coffee in peace; a peace that was rudely shattered by the shrill ringtone of his mobile.

  He grumbled to himself as pressed the answer key.

  ‘McKay.’

  His head cocked to one side as he listened intently.

  ‘You’re sure?’ he asked into the receiver, ‘OK, tell the Super we’re on our way.’

  He felt the coffee rise from his stomach as bile. Someone had seen fit to kill Jameson. He knew what that meant, and why the Super had demanded they come straight in. He was a little surprised a squad of pandas hadn’t turned up at Cass’s to cart them off in cuffs. As of the time the body had been identified, they were all officially suspects in a murder investigation.

  Ryhope Police Station – 26 October

  Cass was fed up. She’d been in and out of interviews with Professional Standards all day, rehashing her whole life to anyone who had asked. She had complied and answered all questions honestly, but she felt as if the whole station now knew everything about her. And that was far more than she’d wanted them to know.

  Alex and Ali had been through the same ordeal, and they’d only just been told they could leave. She knew it was necessary. She had motive, as did Alex, and indirectly Ali. It was all about crossing t’s and dotting i’s.

  The Super had pretty much told them that from the outset, none of the police family believed they were involved, but there were procedures to follow. All in all, they’d been pretty lucky. They weren’t suspended, at this stage they weren’t getting notes in their personnel files.

  All she wanted to do now was have a hot bath and forget the day had happened. She knew Alex would be feeling the same. She hadn’t seen him since that morning, and she wondered whether had finished yet.

  Officially, Kevin who had handled the scene was not allowed to tell her anything about the case. But she’d heard through the grapevine that Jameson had suffered two blows to the head with a heavy object. The police station had merely been the dump site, and the forensic evidence consisted of photos only, plus the plastic sheeting which had been sent for chemical analysis. The post-mortem was scheduled for the next day, with CSIs from the central depot running point. She was sure she ‘d have an update by the end of tomorrow, even if she didn’t ask.

  Jameson’s death would be handled like any other murder, but Cass had to admit to feeling a little relief. He was dead. There was no way he could hurt her or anyone else now. And though she disagreed with the punishment inflicted on him by the killer, she was glad she didn’t have to worry about him any more.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cass’s Cottage – 26 October

  He blended into the background of the tree line to the west of the cottage. It wasn’t quite pitch-black yet and he didn’t want to be seen. He watched Cass’s car pull up in front of the house. She didn’t seem very happy. She should be happy. He had taken care of the problem for her. And this was her gratitude? Her complacent ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude?

  The ball of anger grew in his stomach. That just wasn’t on, she should be pleased he’d killed Jameson. His fists clenched tightly, his nails cutting in his palms as he tried to steady his emotion.

  He’d done her a damn favour.

  He felt his anger unfurling, tendrils reaching into his soul as he struggled to keep control. He would make her pay.

  First though, he had neglected Scott over the last few days. It was time to build bridges. Pulling back from the tree line, he tugged the mobile from his pocket and sent a quick text. Moments later the reply buzzed in his hand, and he felt his anger simmer once more.

  Don’t need the money now. Gonna try to straighten my life out. Can’t do dis crap no more. C U around.

  Oh, you’ll definitely see me around. You think you get to dictate to me when this is over? I don’t think so.

  He puzzled over his growing anger as he drove to the unit.

  He needed to get a grip. Anger caused mistakes.

  Ryhope Police Station – 27 October

  Alex pulled into the car park at the station and sighed. The day before had been long; after the challenging interviews both on the record and off the record he had finally got back to his flat. Ali had packed his stuff up, now that Jameson was no longer a problem there was no need for him to hang around. Alex had said his goodbyes that morning before hitting the gym after promising he would bring Cass on a visit soon to meet the rest of the clan.

  But something wasn’t sitting right. The timing was off for Jameson getting killed. It seemed awfully convenient for him to be murdered mere days after being released. Granted if he’d hurt Cass, he may have ended up that way anyway. But it was almost too neat that he’d been killed so soon after threatening her. It was as if the killer had known the location and picked him up. He possibly had someone with him, but Alex didn’t t
hink this was plausible. Jameson hadn’t been out that long, and there was nothing in his history to show he knew Sunderland at all.

  He stepped through the rear door; his feet heavy with the lack of sleep.

  ‘Whoa easy there, boss,’ said a voice as he trundled inside, not noticing the cart until he almost walked into it.

  Alex smiled at Dave. ‘Sorry, am away with the fairies.’

  ‘Fairies have a lot to answer for if you ask me,’ said Dave with a grin.

  Alex held the door open as the cleaner passed through, whistling a jaunty tune. He closed the door, listening as the latch caught, and made his way up the stairs to the office.

  He paused at the door and took a breath. Saturdays were always busy, with overnight packages involving drunken souls acting out the night before, not to mention the murder files that were forming a growing pile on his desk. He used the moment to focus his thoughts, then walked to his desk. The keyboard was already scattered with four call-back messages, and there were several new files needing a look over.

  ‘Coffee. I need coffee,’ he muttered to himself. He turned to go to the kitchen when Cass appeared, two takeout cups in hand.

  ‘Thought you could use a cuppa. Gonna be a busy day. I’m heading out shortly – there’s like eighteen outstanding jobs already.’ she coughed, suddenly shy at asking her next question though she couldn’t fathom why. ‘Are you coming over tonight? Mum and Roger are bringing Ollie back. I think Roger wants to take us out to dinner. They’re staying at one of the fancy hotels near the town centre.’

  Alex grinned at her. ‘Sounds great. What time shall I come over?’

  ‘Mum said they’re hitting the hotel for about 4 p.m. then they’ll have to get ready and f I think they’re dropping Ollie off first. Say about 6 p.m.?’

  ‘I’ll make sure I’m there on time. Have meetings all day so I’ll be in and out of the office. Have my mobile though if you need anything.’