Who's Next?: A completely gripping and unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Lockhart and Green Book 2)

by Chris Merritt

  Lexi made her move. Jabbing a hand into her bag, she grasped the cannister of pepper spray. Pulled it out with her thumb already over the trigger button and, before her attacker had time to react, she’d raised it and fired a burst. But the direction was off, and she watched as the initial stream arced to the ground beside his body.

  She immediately adjusted her aim.

  The man took a step back and threw up an arm to shield himself. But he was too slow.

  The jet hit him, its impact spread somewhere between the arm he’d raised and one side of the ski mask covering his face. Its open eyeholes were small targets. But that’s what she was going for.

  ‘What the f—?’ he cried, trying to wipe it off.

  Lexi stood. Sprayed him again. Longer, this time. More precise.

  He screamed, and she knew she’d got him full in one eye.

  ‘You bitch!’ he yelled.

  She went for a third burst, but the spray died before it reached him. Lexi realised the cannister was empty about the same time he did.

  The man turned and started to run, making for the park across the road, bathed in blackness behind the trees.

  Lexi was just a few feet behind him as he barrelled through the trees and into the dark beyond. He moved with surprising speed. Some part of her mind recognised that it was dumb to be chasing a guy carrying a knife into a deserted place like this. Especially when her pepper spray had run out. That she could wind up getting stabbed, like Logan. But another voice told her she had him on the ropes. And no way was she letting him get away with this.

  ‘Hey!’ she yelled, pitching forward across the grass. ‘Stop!’

  She could see him right in front of her, hear the gasps of his ragged breathing.

  He glanced backwards, and Lexi caught his eye. She could’ve sworn, right then, that he was scared. Of her. Well, fuck him.

  Her legs were a little wobbly with the adrenalin, but she knew she had a kick to her sprinting, and she was gaining on him. Almost close enough to reach out and—

  Her foot hit a dip and crumpled beneath her, the twist in her ankle producing an awful pop as her leg gave way. Next, she was on the ground, pain surging through her foot and lower leg.

  ‘Stop!’ she screamed, again. ‘Stop, goddammit!’

  But she knew it was useless. All she could hear was the slight echo of her own voice and that asshole’s heavy steps getting farther away from her. His footfall quickly dissolved into silence that was broken only by a single noise. It took Lexi a moment longer to realise that it was the sound of her own crying.

  Lockhart took a sip of coffee, glanced at the phone. Come on, Jock.

  ‘How late we gonna stay?’ asked Smith.

  He grunted. ‘Thinking I might do an all-nighter.’

  There was a pause. Smith shifted in her seat, looked at him. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  ‘Dunno. Maybe.’

  They drank their coffees. A radio crackled and Parsons checked in. He had nothing to report.

  ‘Do you think she’ll show, then?’ Smith nodded in the general direction of the street.

  Lockhart shook his head slowly. Not a no, more a no idea. He was considering how best to express that without sounding too pessimistic when his phone rang.

  The initial surge of excitement was tempered when he saw who was calling. It wasn’t Jock, but Green. His first thought was to reject the call to keep the line open in case Jock tried to get through. But then another possibility occurred to him.

  Green was the smartest person he’d ever met. She got stuff wrong, of course. Made mistakes, just like him and everyone else. But whatever she did, she believed in it. And she wasn’t a time waster. So, if she was calling so late, there was probably a good reason. It was going to be something important.

  Smith leant across and looked at the screen. ‘What does she want with you at this time of night, eh?’

  Lockhart ignored the question and swiped to answer.

  ‘Lexi,’ he said.

  At first, the only sound was a sob. Then she spoke.

  ‘Help me, please.’

  ‘Lexi, what’s happened?’ he demanded. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘It was him,’ she moaned. ‘I was at the bus stop and then he was there, and…’

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Not really.’ She hiccupped. ‘Not like that. He ran off.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  She told him the park and nearest road.

  ‘Stay there,’ said Lockhart. ‘Keep talking to me. I’m on my way. We’ll get a patrol car over to you as well.’

  Smith was already grabbing the radio and making contact with the Met’s communications centre.

  ‘OK.’ Green sniffed deeply, exhaled.

  Lockhart started the Defender’s engine. ‘Do you need an ambulance?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He turned to Smith. But he didn’t even need to ask.

  She nodded. ‘I’m coming too.’

  Eighty-Eight

  ‘I’m good.’ Lexi pulled the jacket a little tighter around herself. ‘Seriously. I’m fine.’

  ‘You don’t look fine,’ Dan said.

  He probably had a point. She could feel herself trembling, despite being inside Dan’s Land Rover, with the heating on, and his jacket draped around her. A cop car had arrived a few minutes after her call, while Dan and Max had reached her not long after that. She couldn’t gauge the times accurately. It’d all happened so fast.

  ‘I mean that in a nice way,’ he added, with a little smile.

  Despite the situation, she gave a laugh and looked down at her foot. ‘It’s just my ankle that’s busted.’ It was already swelling.

  ‘Could’ve been much worse than that.’ Dan’s smile faded and his expression was suddenly stern. ‘He had a knife, you said?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Christ, Lexi. What were you thinking?’

  ‘I just…’ she faltered. ‘I wanted to catch him. That’s all.’

  Dan didn’t say anything. He just breathed out slowly through his nostrils.

  ‘Sorry,’ she added.

  ‘Anything could’ve happened.’

  ‘I know.’

  They sat in silence for a few seconds.

  ‘That was the closest we’ve got to him,’ she said. ‘Like, real time. We nearly had him.’

  ‘And he nearly stabbed you. Or worse, he could’ve…’ Dan didn’t finish the sentence.

  Lexi swallowed. She’d not even thought about that.

  ‘I’ll drive you to St George’s,’ he said. ‘Get that ankle X-rayed.’

  ‘Don’t they need you here?’ Max and the uniformed cops who’d turned up were searching the park in case the guy was hiding out.

  ‘They’ll be OK without me for a bit. We’ve still got half a dozen people over in Chelsea looking for Logan, too. I can always head back there later.’

  Lexi hesitated. She felt that pull of safety that she’d always got around Dan. ‘Well, if you’re sure. I mean, I can take a cab, if—’

  ‘Come on. Let’s go.’ He grabbed the radio and told Max what he was doing. Then he put the Defender in gear and pulled out.

  As the streetlamps flashed past, something occurred to her. As if her brain had taken this long to process the attacker’s behaviour.

  ‘It was weird,’ she said.

  Dan glanced sideways at her. ‘What was weird?’

  ‘The way he stopped and stared at me, like he wasn’t sure of himself anymore.’

  ‘Maybe he just saw the pepper spray.’

  ‘No, it was still in my bag at that point.’

  ‘Hm.’

  A tingle crept over Lexi’s skin, and she shivered. ‘I think he knew me.’

  It’s started spitting with rain and, despite the protection of the walkway overhead, the wind drives a few big drops into my face. I wipe them away, knowing I’ll soon be indoors, because I’m here. Four floors up, out
side apartment eighty-two.

  I tap my knuckle on the door three times. Loud enough to be heard, but not too hard; I don’t want to scare the old dear. At first, there’s no response, and I begin to wonder if I’ve picked the one night of the year when Iris Lockhart stays at bingo till midnight or takes her annual holiday at the coast or somewhere. I raise my fist to knock harder in case she’s deaf. But then I catch a shuffling noise from within. Growing louder, coming towards me.

  I can make out a slight wheeze from behind the door. It’s taken it out of her just getting here from the living room or wherever she was. Or maybe her lungs are just shot to pieces from smoking or a lifetime in the city, or both. She clears her throat and then a hoarse London accent asks, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Oh, hello, Mrs Lockhart,’ I say, putting on my friendliest voice. ‘Very sorry to disturb you. I’m a colleague of Dan’s. We work together in Putney.’

  ‘Daniel? Is he all right?’ Her tone is concerned, now. I’ve got her interested.

  ‘He’s fine,’ I reply. Then I speak more quietly, for dramatic effect. ‘But he’s doing a sensitive operation at the moment and he asked me to give you some news about him.’

  ‘What news? What’s goin’ on?’ She sounds a bit panicked.

  ‘It’d be easier if we can talk inside. I know it’s late, but it won’t take a moment. I can’t really explain from out here, though, due to the nature of the job. I’m sure you’ll understand…’

  I hope she doesn’t call my bluff by ringing Lockhart to check.

  ‘What did you say your name was?’

  ‘Detective Constable Amy Lucas.’

  She doesn’t respond. I make a brrr noise, followed by another sound of obvious discomfort.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she says.

  ‘Yes, it’s just – ah – it’s started raining out here.’

  There’s a silence, and I wonder if I’ve blown it. If I’m going to need to use force or threats rather than charm to get to her.

  Then she says, ‘Hang on, love.’

  A lock clicks over and I hear a chain sliding back.

  The door opens.

  The rain began to fall as they drove to St George’s Hospital, and Lockhart flicked on the wipers to clear the windscreen. He was trying to process what Green had just told him.

  ‘You think the Op Braddock rapist knew you,’ he said. ‘As in, you also know who he is?’

  ‘Yeah, well, I don’t know who he was. But I think I may know him. Or have met him. It was how he looked at me, you know? Like he recognised me. And his voice…’

  ‘Could it be someone you came across professionally?’

  ‘I dunno.’

  Lockhart turned his head and saw that she had her eyes closed, her mouth drawn into a kind of grimace. She’d wrapped her arms around herself. He willed her to think, to remember something, anything about this guy. But he knew he had to go slowly; she’d still be in shock, and there would be plenty of time for her to give a full statement tomorrow. Maybe it’d come back to her after she’d slept on it. If she was able to sleep. He was wondering whether to leave it or ask her something else when the trill cut through his thoughts.

  His phone was ringing.

  It was the call he’d been waiting for all night.

  He swiped at the screen.

  ‘Jock.’

  ‘It’s active, Sarge.’

  The adrenalin stabbed in his belly and coursed through his limbs. He felt a tingle in his hands and feet. ‘OK, where?’

  ‘Bermondsey.’

  Lockhart’s mouth was suddenly dry, the sensation in his stomach turning to a creeping coldness.

  ‘Sarge?’

  He blinked a few times. ‘Is the target moving?’

  ‘Aye. Well, it was a minute ago.’

  ‘Send me the co-ords right now,’ Lockhart said, though he already had a good idea where they would put the phone, and Logan with it. He should’ve seen this coming. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

  ‘Nae problem.’ Jock rang off.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Green.

  ‘Sorry, Lexi.’ He stamped on the brake and swung the Defender round in the road. ‘That X-ray’s gonna have to wait.’

  Eighty-Nine

  Lexi instinctively braced herself with one hand on the dash and the other on her door as Dan hit the gas. She saw the needle pass fifty miles per hour and heard the blaring of horns as he wove in and out of traffic on the crowded roads. The rain was coming down harder now, the Land Rover’s headlights cutting through it as the windshield wipers fought against the barrage.

  ‘I can drop you somewhere on the way,’ he said.

  ‘Hell, no,’ she replied. ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Dan glanced at her, but didn’t say anything. His face was illuminated every couple seconds by oncoming cars and Lexi could see his features were set hard.

  ‘What can I do?’ she asked.

  ‘Grab my phone,’ said Dan. ‘Open an app called Telegram.’

  She did as instructed and described what she could see: a message from Jock containing a bunch of digits.

  ‘OK. Copy those numbers and paste them into Google Maps.’

  ‘Got it.’

  Lexi held her finger on the screen and noticed her fingers were shaking. Maybe it was the after-effects of what’d just happened to her in the park. Perhaps it was her body’s response to being driven through London at twice the speed limit. Or maybe it was because Dan had just told her who they expected to find at these GPS co-ordinates.

  Blaze Logan.

  He’d offered her the chance to bail out. Despite being terrified of this woman, and knowing the danger she posed to anyone who got in her way, Lexi had refused. She wasn’t sure why she’d done that, only that it felt like the right thing to do.

  Google Maps brought up a crossroads in Bermondsey. ‘Corner of Clements Road and Drummond Road,’ she stated.

  ‘That’ll be the nearest cell tower,’ he said. ‘I’m betting it’s no coincidence that it’s the same place that I grew up.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘And where my mum still lives.’

  ‘Jesus, Dan.’

  Lexi was suddenly thrown right and then left as he spun the wheel one way then the other to overtake a van.

  ‘I need you to call Max Smith,’ Dan said, nodding at his mobile. ‘She’s in my contacts. Tell her where we’re going and to get herself and the units in Chelsea over there on the hurry-up. Get Khan and Guptill back in. Tell her who’s involved.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘And make sure she keeps the backup low-key. I don’t want Logan getting spooked and… You know, if she’s got my mum.’

  Lexi nodded, then instinctively pushed herself back in the seat as they ran a red light. Pain shot through her ankle and she screamed. Dan slammed his hand on the steering wheel and the horn blasted as they ploughed across a junction, causing squeals of brakes to both sides.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  A stupid thought came to Lexi about Brits apologising all the time and she almost laughed.

  She opened the contacts list to find Max Smith. She’d typed M-A when the screen switched to an incoming call. She held it up for him to see who it was.

  Mum.

  I’ve told him what I want. Where he needs to meet me. What’s at stake if he doesn’t do exactly what I say. What will happen if he asks for backup or tries to seal off the area. Those instructions were so much more effective coming from his dear mother. Particularly as it took her a few goes to get the words out through her whimpering and stammering.

  I told her that no one needs to get hurt. That I just wanted to speak to her son. Clearly, that’s not true, and I don’t think she believed it. She asked me if I was that woman off the telly, the one in the news about the recent murders. Iris Lockhart may be old, but she’s not daft, I’ll give her that. There was no point denying it. She thought about this for a minute before asking me if I wanted to kill her son.
r />   Since she knew who I was, I didn’t think there was much point denying that, either.

  She went very quiet. Then she told me that her son wouldn’t be scared of me. That he’d killed people, too. More than me, in fact, as if it was a competition. That he didn’t like it, but he did it when he had to. When he had no choice. And that he’d kill me if need be. I said he’d be welcome to try.

  The fact is, I’ll always have the edge over him, because he has something I don’t. He’s got a conscience. I wouldn’t think twice about throwing an old lady off the roof of an eight-storey apartment block. And while that would haunt Dan Lockhart every day for the rest of his life, I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. He knows that.

  And that’s why he’ll do what I say.

  Now I just need him to arrive. I can hear the rain hammering on the balcony. No sense going outside yet.

  Probably got time for a cup of tea while we wait.

  Lockhart was driving so fast that he half-expected to be pulled over by a police car. Or cause an accident. But he didn’t care. After hearing the terror in his mum’s voice there was only one thing on his mind. And he’d already decided he wasn’t responsible for whatever happened to Blaze Logan.

  He’d disregarded her instructions and ordered backup anyway, stressing to Smith that there should be no blues and twos, just unmarked vehicles and as little sound as possible. Lockhart was confident that Logan wouldn’t be escaping this time. But the priority had to be Mum’s safety.

  They arrived outside the building that held so many childhood memories for him, now dark and eerily silent in the lashing rain. He brought the Defender to a hard stop and unbuckled his seatbelt.

  ‘Stay here,’ he told Green and, without waiting for a response, he was out of the Defender and running across to Mum’s block.

  Logan had told him to head up to the roof. But she thought he was twenty minutes away, oblivious to the fact that he’d traced her phone and was almost there when she’d got his mum to call. That gave him an advantage.

  Think like your enemy.

  If Logan was in his mum’s flat, she’d take the nearest walkway to the roof. Which meant that if he took the fire escape at the side, he might get there first.