by mark mctighe
The plan was essentially a simple one, ‘but even simple ones need to be kept on top of’. Wass rehearsed the plan; ‘so, take him in the usual fashion this afternoon, keep him sedated and concealed at the incinerator.’ Wass checked his pocket. He’d kept the keys for a couple of disused buildings on the periphery of the 20 acre site. He’d used them as a temporary storage facility some eight years previously. He’d hold Horsham there immediately after the snatch, then move him up to his secondary storage units close to the school. It was the best part of it all, holding Horsham, owning Horsham. It gave Wass the chance to make sure that Horsham knew what was about to become. That negotiation was useless, that the end was inevitable; and what an end..... Wass was going to provide Horsham with a couple of torches, an oxygen supply and a sound track. ‘He’ll be buried two feet below the reinforced concrete and then, well I guess we’ll never know whether he dies of dehydration, or finally succumbs to a lack of oxygen, perhaps he’ll just blow a fuse; whatever, he’ll know what I went through and then I can move on.’
Wass laid out his equipment for the next few days. The Taser was fully charged; chloroform; a cylinder of sleeping gas he could pipe into the locker. Unlike the others Wass would need to open this locker and transfer Horsham into a smaller, less obtrusive coffin. There was a hacksaw and spare blades; he’d need to cut through the reinforcing rods to create a space for Horsham’s box. In fact that was the only bit that really worried him. Wass couldn’t use any power tools, it would only draw attention. He needed to saw through 15 steel reinforcing rods by hand, and that worried him. Sure his arms were strong and he’d timed himself on one rod at twenty minutes; but nevertheless that was the only part of the plan that gave him any real concern. ‘You need something to worry about’ Wass thought.
Wass tried to put himself in Horsham’s head. How would it feel to know that you were buried under two feet of hardening reinforced concrete? It’s not like anyone could dig you up, ‘final, the end,’ Wass thought. Perhaps the coffin would collapse under the weight? No, Wass wasn’t going to let that happen, he’d spec it up accordingly. ‘The oxygen supply should last at least 12 hours’ he thought, ‘but if he’s panting like a dog, then possibly only half that time. Perhaps the knowledge of imminent death would hasten matters; cardiac arrest; haemorrhage?’ The pleasurable thoughts brought a smile to Wass’s face.
14. Horsham.
Leo polished off a Red Leicester and pickle sandwich at his office desk. Mandy’s team had been at the school for a day and a half and there was still nothing to go on. His phone flashed green and started to ring. “Mandy, got anything for me?” Leo’s voice was full of hope.
“Actually, yes Guv; it’s gone crazy here in the last 10 minutes; I thought I’d better just bring you up to speed. There’s something you need to know straight away.” She paused and swallowed audibly. Leo picked a piece of pickle out of his teeth with his finger nail and waited.
“Right Guv; got a pen?”
“For Christ’s sake just get on with it will you Mandy”.
“Yes, sorry Guv. It’s Simon Wass, there’s an ex-pupil, same year, called Simon Wass. It’s taken us a day and a half to unearth him because he was at the end of the register. He was listed as an S. Wass and I didn’t put 2 and 2 together; anyway I’ve had him pointed out on the school photograph and it’s definitely the same one as our ‘All Office’ Simon Wass. I’ve interviewed him twice Guv and he’s never mentioned it, in fact he’s actually stated that he didn’t know the man; that he’d only ever walked past him in the corridor.
“Hold on Mandy” Leo put the phone onto speaker and waved Mikey over. “You’re on speaker now Mandy; Mikey and Chris have joined me, can you run that by us again?”
“Right Guv; Simon Wass, the office manager for Whittaker’s Tower, was a pupil at the same school and in the same year too. Something he’s neglected to tell us all.”
“Mikey, take Chris and find him now; don’t move in until you’ve got an armed response unit in place. OK?” They hot footed it across the open plan offices and out of the door. Leo turned back to the phone and picked up the handset. “OK Mandy, what else?”
“There’s loads of stuff coming across to me as we speak Guv, but I think the only other piece of crucial information is that two teachers, the head master and sports master, who were in position when Whittaker, Sasse and Wass were at school, well these two teachers are long term missing. I’m just emailing you a copy of their police files.” The phone went quiet as Mandy gulped for air.
“Have you got enough resource?” Leo’s heart rate had passed the 100 mark.
“Yes, any more would probably just slow us down Guv.”
“When did these teachers disappear?”
“Approximately 3 years for the sports master and 18 months for the head.”
“I’ll leave you to it Mandy and unless something else comes up we’ll chat around 5.00.”
“Will do Guv”; Mandy’s enthusiasm explosive. Leo scratched his head. The pieces were coming together fast, and the picture was far from pretty. He strode across to Jack’s office and went in.
“The case is starting to break” Leo began.
“Go on.”
“We have a suspect and Mikey’s got a couple of teams out looking for him - Simon Wass, office manager for Whittaker’s; he works for ‘All Office’ their subcontractor. He was in the same class at school as both Whittaker and Sasse which he has conveniently forgotten to tell us about. There’s also the possibility of two previous murders, 3 years and 18 months ago as two of the teachers from their time are long term missing. Mandy’s on to that. I’m about to call James Horsham to see what he remembers about Wass. See if we can come up with some kind of rationale behind it all.
Jack sat silently, listened and nodded; “sounds like you’ve got it all in hand. You’d better get moving and keep me posted.”
Leo pressed the call button on his mobile; “James.... Leo Dix...... Does the name Simon Wass mean anything to you?” Leo was straight into it. There was no point in warming him up or beating about the bush; Leo paused.
“Yes”, he sounded taken aback, he was at school with us, with me, but what significance could he possibly have? He was a nothing. You know one of those with no particular friend, sort of kept to himself, never contributed anything to anything.”
“Look, keep thinking about it, all and any interaction you’ve had with him over the last, well since you first met him. I’m coming over. I need to get to the bottom of this.” Leo ended the call. He’d get Scarlett over there as well, he’d doubtlessly have some method for getting Horsham to regress into his childhood, cast his mind back. Thoughts of casting and an image of the pike that had bitten Scarlett’s finger, as a boy, came to mind. ‘You can’t blame it, pulled out of its environment, faced with a young Scarlett, and that couldn’t have been a pretty sight. No the pike was unquestionably in the right.’ Leo slid into his car and immediately started thinking about Victoria Sharpe. Ever since her repeated verbal attacks on the car he couldn’t get into it without Victoria springing to mind, usually clothed. ‘Shit I really must ring Simone tonight.’ He knew it would be a shitty call to make but the more he delayed the more heavily it would weigh on his mind. He pulled a sharp left and floored the accelerator, merging with a stream of traffic heading south. V..... W..... The V that Whittaker had written could have been the start of Wass, yes, he could feel the case gathering momentum, pulling together.
‘Wass, not Wass’ James Horsham thought and shook his head. ‘I hadn’t thought about him in years. It’s the locker thing. If only I’d thought of this before, we could have prevented Peter’s...... Peter’s.’ His thoughts drifted off. He could remember how Wass smelt and his nick name, beetroot, ‘beetroot ..... And it always had the desired effect. Why didn’t I think of this before?’....... James Horsham didn’t remember that in his inebriated state at Oscar’s funeral it was Wass who had sprung to mind. It was just that no one had chosen to listen....... There was
a certain feeling of guilty relief; relief that the police were now surely onto the murderer. The thing with the lockers would have been too much of a coincidence, no, it had to be Wass. That meant that he and his family would be able, in due course, to return to.... Well not quite a normal life, but the sword of Damocles was gone.
Even though they’d agreed to talk at 5.00 Mandy called twice and fed pertinent bits of information to Leo. ‘There were issues of bullying’ she’d said. ‘I don’t think Whittaker, Horsham and Sasse were a particularly nice group of boys; verbal bullying has come up with a number of people’ she’d added. ‘And the disappearance of the ex head looks every bit like an abduction.’
Leo increased his speed; he’d arrive a full forty minutes ahead of Scarlett but he wouldn’t delay his questioning. ‘The Scarlett One’ would just have to catch up.
Mikey was having trouble locating Wass’s whereabouts. He wasn’t at home and his business diary was empty. He’d have to visit all five of Wass’s office blocks. Mikey turned to Chris, pleased to have the burley rugby playing officer alongside; his ears a testimony to the hours of scrummaging he’d put in. But the hard hours had paid off for Chris and he was now a regular second row forward for the Mets first team. “He shouldn’t be in a siege frame of mind” Mikey began. “He shouldn’t have a clue that we’re on to him, but if he catches a glimpse of you, and your ears, standing next to me that might change.” Chris listened through his cauliflowers and nodded his understanding. “So”, Mikey took off again; “I go in and locate him, you know, a bit of follow up questioning. Then when I call you and ask you to pick me up you come in like the proverbial tonne of bricks, got that Chris?” Chris nodded again. He was a man of few words.
After a couple of hours Mikey and Chris were on to their third office block. The other two blocks were being covered by a secondary team that Mikey had hastily put together. They also had nothing to report. No one had seen the man. The armed response units stood on standby and frustration levels were building. Each block a rabbit warren of rooms and twisting corridors. It was going to be a nightmare to find him and catch him off guard. And now he’d become a different proposition; a man who’d killed at least four and over a number of years, extremely dangerous.
The gravel driveway was circular. A large Vicarage sitting in perhaps an acre of land; sculpted leylandii hedges boarded the garden, shielding it from the quiet country lane beyond. Leo killed the engine; a delivery van concealing the main entrance of the house.
Horsham had sent his wife and two children up to her Mother’s, County Durham, for at least a couple of days, probably weeks. He didn’t want the children exposed to the pressures of having two policemen, two Bobbies, standing guard front and back. In truth the kids loved it, but it didn’t feel right and his wife was petrified. No, it was easier for everyone, easier for the police and for his wife and family who quite frankly didn’t need to get involved in this mess.
So when Wass arrived in his white Luton van he already knew that the children had been taken out of school. He’d watched as James Horsham’s wife drove off, ‘probably to family’ he’d thought; but then they really weren’t his concern. Wass knew exactly what he had to deal with; just three, Bobbies front and back and then he could take Horsham. Wass knew that speed was always important; after all you just never knew who might turn up. Wass had borrowed an ‘All Office’ delivery uniform from the ‘Speedfast’ division and to complete the picture he held an electronic terminal. He felt the part. “Delivery for a Mrs Horsham” Wass began as he approached the policeman with the box and terminal. “Is the Prime Minister visiting or something?” Wass threw in a joke to complete the ‘happy chappy’ image.
“All OK Dave” the policeman said into his radio. “Just another delivery, god these people have got money, don’t know what to do with it.” He released his finger from the transmit button and prepared to take the box.
Wass smiled, Wass had thought long and hard about this position. And just as he’d thought the policeman was wearing a stab vest, a helmet, a thick warm coat and heavy looking boots. Knocking him out was always going to be a problem, the Taser would never penetrate. Wass pulled the trigger twice on the heavily silenced automatic weapon, his hand hidden in the dummy box; the bullet passing through the cardboard and striking the policeman in the neck and chin. He fell dead. Wass braced himself, stood stone still and listened. The radio crackled into action.
“Did you hear that Roger?” Wass moved silently around the Vicarage. “Come in Roger, is everything OK?” Could be heard from behind and in front. The back of the fluorescent jacket spelt out the word POLICE in blue and white. Wass fired three rapid head shots. The first one missed but the second brought him to the ground. It looked messy to Wass. He didn’t need to kill him. Wass just didn’t want him getting in the way for the next few minutes. ‘No, messy, he’s not going anywhere in a hurry he’ll be lucky to survive’ Wass thought.
Wass jogged back to the Luton and tucked the gun in the glove box. He glanced at the charging levels on the Taser and returned to the house. ‘The big fat house of the big fat bully’ he thought. The rest was a formality. He was well practiced now. So after 10 minutes James Horsham lay twisted and drugged; face down in a metal locker in the back of the ‘All Office’ Luton van. ‘Fucking perfect’ Wass thought. He rarely swore, and never in public, but he couldn’t think of a better way to describe it....... And then the unexpected happened. The Landrover of DI Dix arrived. Wass knew that DI Dix was running the case. He’d seen him out and about numerous times. He always looked distracted to Wass and like ‘old piggy eyes’ as Wass liked to call her, he was slow, cumbersome, mind on something else, ‘yes, basically useless’. Wass had no time for him ‘needs teaching a lesson’ Wass thought. ‘If you’re not fit for the job, then you shouldn’t be doing it’ and that thought gave Wass an Idea.
Leo rounded the van fully expecting to see one of the ‘tin hats’ on the door; just then his world went blank.
Wass checked the glove box one more time, ‘still there’ he thought. He put the Luton into first and drove out through the soft warm red brick piers from which the security gates hung.
Richard Scarlett was not what you’d call ‘front line’. He usually only got involved in cases after the brutality. Sure he was used to seeing pictures of the most disturbing acts, atrocities; things beyond most people’s comprehension. But it came as some considerable shock when he arrived at James Horsham’s home. Leo’s blue defender sat parked on the driveway and Scarlett approached the door at ease. He was seriously thinking about using hypnosis. It had worked for him once before; perhaps a decade ago. But the subject had been perfect; an aging hippie with an open mind. Horsham on the other hand was as close to opposite as..... ‘Well, chalk and cheese’ he thought; ‘but always worth a go’. The front door was ajar. Three bloody fingers poked out at ground level and judging by the damage to the hand the door had been slammed shut; the fingers just preventing the catch from catching; their final act of defiance. Scarlett looked about. He didn’t feel threatened. His gut told him that the threat had flown. He pushed the door open. The dead policeman had lost his face, or most of it. Scarlett backed up and immediately called Jack. The news imparted he ended the call and jogged around the house in an effort to find Leo. Scarlett stopped by the back door. A second policeman was down but this time.... A heartbeat. He knew not to loosen any clothing there could be other injuries and he didn’t want him to bleed out. He held his hand and spoke calmly, reassuringly; waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
At 9.00pm that night Jack Johnson chaired a meeting at the Scotland Yard office. “Ziggy” Jack prompted.
“Same modus operandi; electronically immobilised then chloroform; James Horsham was hit in his library, or home office; Leo on the drive outside.” Ziggy pointed to the locations on the large screen. “45 calibre hand gun, don’t need to tell you how powerful that is. One bullet passed straight through Roger’s jaw and stuck in the door frame. The second one
still lodged in his brain; instant kill. It was different for Dave; same weapon of course but the hematoma got him in the end. He died as they were loading him into the helicopter; nothing else otherwise Jack.” Ziggy looked utterly depressed. His eyes watered, his best mate was living a nightmare and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be living it.
Jack had drafted in three DI’s from his ‘Special Investigations Department.’ Everything else could be put on ice until Leo had been found. The room was full. The whole weight of the department behind it. “We’ve got five teams looking for Wass” Jack began. “Mikey went into his house this afternoon and” Jack rubbed his eyes and handed the floor back to Ziggy again with an open handed gesture.
“Yes” Ziggy hesitated for a moment then concentrated on the brief in hand. “We found a body in the chest freezer in the garage; cut up, nothing frenzied about it; a tidy job. The head was placed in last, eyes open, and this is where we get really weird. The mouth was stuffed to brimming with Indian food. A take away judging by the tin foil containers we found in his rubbish.”
Scarlett scribbled frantically.
“He cut the body up in the bathroom after drowning him. He’s a meticulously tidy bloke because it took Dylan an hour to find any trace of blood in the bathroom. It’s his father.”
Jack pressed on; “well let’s hope it started with the two teachers, then we have Whittaker and Sasse, his father, and now the shooting of two uniforms, Roger and Dave. He’s holding two more captive and he rarely holds them for long. Seven dead ....... He’s about to kill two more and one of them’s Leo. Mikey, Chris and Dylan are scouring the home for any possible leads. He seems to have a lot of paperwork, doesn’t throw much away. Then we have teams at each of his temporary offices in his five places of work. We’re also crawling all over ‘All Office’, if anyone knows about a secret hideout it’ll be them. Scarlett, I need some more thinking time with you, the rest of you, well, look at the schedule I’ve drawn up and get on with it, let’s get Leo home.” Jack stood and the room emptied.
