by mark mctighe
Two long cool glasses of Guinness rested on IPA cardboard coasters; Ziggy had selected a large corner table; somewhere where he could spread out, somewhere with enough privacy...... But there were no journalists here, every punter a copper.
The laughter preceded Leo. “Had a fight with a brick wall then?”...... “Beaten up by a mental docker, or was that a metal locker?” The jibes weren’t funny but that didn’t stop everyone from laughing like drains. No one was allowed to take themselves seriously in here; it was a chance for everyone to unwind after the serious stresses of policing work. Ziggy looked up at the approaching figure of fun. He was straight out of a horror movie; sporting a face plate, thick speech and hands like a bunch of bananas.
“You know women like that look Leo. It says action man, hero. I predict that you will score before the night is out. And you know what? It makes everyone in here feel a little more special, a little more macho. Your face is a badge of honour and everyone wants a piece of you. You’re bringing joy to everyone’s lives.”
“Not the intention I assure you”. Leo slugged a couple of painkillers and swigged his beer; the interference of the face plate causing a dribble of Guinness to run down his chin, neck, and disappear into the open neck of his shirt.
“You’re a mess Dix; sure you’re up for this?” Ziggy nodded at his IPad.
“Couple of swigs of this” Leo held the Guinness aloft “and we’ll get stuck in.”
“Simone?” Ziggy enquired.
“Ah, yes, don’t go there. I did call her but the call sort of got twisted and well.... You’ve guessed it; it’s floating, drifting along; exactly where I don’t want it.” Leo shook his head slowly.
“Maybe you just aren’t ready to finish with her yet.”
“I’m ready, but ...... Anyway, another time.” Leo waved the thoughts away like he was being buzzed by an annoying fly.
“Look before we get started there was one thing I was meaning to ask.” Ziggy said. “The electronic immobilisation, which I think we can now safely say was carried out by an ‘All Office’ Taser; what the hell did it feel like? I’ve been in half a mind to get Dylan to shoot me with one; market research, I think I should know how it feels and all that. But.... and it’s a big but, I think Dyl would crank it up to maximum discharge and half kill me; or worse still crank it up and shoot me in the face.”
“Well the way you treat the man you could hardly blame him if he did. You’re so tough on him.... What did it feel like?” Leo repeated the question and thought. “I have no recollection of pain Zigs. I was walking towards Horsham’s house then I woke up in the metal locker. Everything else in between sort of never existed.”
“Perhaps I could use that when I go and visit my Mum then” Ziggy smiled. “I could hit the button just as she starts giving me one of her monologues and then when I come around it’ll be time to go home...... Yes, I like it.” Ziggy was pleased to be sitting opposite Leo and talking gibberish. This was when he felt at his happiest; this and analysing brain tissue in the back of a car; oh, and telling Dylan where he was going wrong again.
“Now back to the business end of things. Is there anything we could have missed that would indicate where Simon Wass has taken Horsham?” Leo drained the pint and waved at the bar man, signalling for him to pour two more.
“That was the obvious question” Ziggy replied. “We’ve combed his house and there is a foot deep pile of papers on Dylan’s desk; and as you know he’s been through it three times. Dylan’s good at that sort of thing, but don’t you dare tell him; there was nothing. We’ve downloaded a hard copy of all his interaction with his company’s mainframe and none of it is personal. There are references to numerous ‘All Office’ sites and buildings, but essentially his interaction is limited to the twenty client buildings where he provides ‘on call’ or emergency assistance. Then there are the five principal clients, like Whittaker’s. Now we’ve conducted detailed searches of all these premises. We’ve found the rooms that he used as offices but....... No bloody paperwork, nothing, nowt; everything conducted on his laptop which leads us back to the interaction with the ‘All Office’ system. He backs up files on the mainframe but not everything. We have no way of knowing what personal information he’s got on his hard drive. It’s a bit long winded but to answer your question in a word...... No......... We don’t have any information that leads us to a possible location; we’ve looked at everything and from lots of different perspectives. We’re back to what you’ve brought to the table Leo, Horsham is being held close to a site where 2ft of reinforced concrete is about to go down.”
Leo sat back in his chair and slurped the top off the fresh pint. A second dribble ran down his numb chin and joined the first. “What about his father?” Leo changed the angle of approach. “Is there anything in his father’s life, his papers, that might give us a location?”
“Scarlett doesn’t think so” Ziggy began; then sang the opening bars of the cult kids TV programme Captain Scarlet....... ‘In-des-tructible Captain Scarlet’. No, Scarlett thinks he’s taken the reins from his father; something to do with ‘dominant psychological positions’ and ‘doing things his own way’, crap like that. Apparently that Indian food he’d stuffed in his father’s mouth is all about domination and freedom........ Anyway, I listened to Scarlett and then chose to ignore him so we did a complete rekey of all his father’s stuff. We only came up with a cottage in Southwold that he’d holidayed in a couple of times. The Suffolk force checked it out for us; and surprise surprise it’s an empty holiday let. I mean who’s going to go to Southwold in March; freeze your bollocks off.”
Leo gently rubbed his chin. It felt like someone else’s face. “So nothing at home, work, what about his car?”
“Stripped and clean”, Ziggy shook his head slowly and thoughtfully.
“Come on Zigs, there must be something to go on.”
“I think the fact that it took Dylan an hour to find blood in the bathroom, and this is after the fact that he butchered his father in there, shows how tidy the bloke is. He’s meticulously meticulous. His whole life is about planning things and that’s the bastard.”
Both men stared into their half empty glasses. “You scared me Leo, I thought he’d got you. No one else has got away.” They stared some more as Ziggy pushed an unwelcome tear away from his left eye.
17. Analysis.
Sleep was assisted by two large blue lozenge shaped tablets. Leo didn’t like to take the medication but the painful act of placing his head on the pillow soon made him change his mind. He’d dispensed with the pillow and dispensed the medicine. The alarm was set for 4.30; he needed to be at his desk and productive by 6.00; Scarlett was meeting him at 7.00 and Ziggy had agreed to go through everything by 2.00pm at the latest. It was 24 hours and counting and Leo knew that James Horsham would be living each hour in a state of abject fear; the mental tortured cranked up to the maximum that Simon Wass could muster.
Leo texted Victoria Sharpe factually; ‘please confirm your location, Leo Dix’.
‘Lying alone in bed’ came straight back. Leo started to sweat; what the hell was she doing to him? ‘Jesus, get it out of your head man’ Leo screamed silently. But he only had himself to blame. He was the one who’d sent the first text.
‘Just checking you’re not at home’ Leo replied.
Victoria was fast on the buttons; ‘Why, were you thinking of coming to see me?
‘Shit’ Leo thought, ‘these texts are getting way out of control’. He sent a final one, a ‘pour cold water on things’ kind of text. ‘Things are serious and I just need to know that you are out of the way...’
‘Sorry XX’ this time she’d hit him with the double kiss. It was crazy ‘an experienced man of fifty shouldn’t be getting flustered’ he thought; ‘head on the bloody job’.
Scarlett stood by the door to Leo’s office juggling his latest coffee. “Christ this is hot”.
“They shouldn’t be allowed to sell it like that, super-heated, it’s an
accident waiting to happen” Leo said. Scarlett smiled; he knew he was taking the piss. “Come on in Dick, we’ve got the concrete pours for Friday morning covered, or should I say Mikey’s got them covered. Ziggy’s revisiting all his forensics and you and I need to revisit the man in question. We’ve got one final effort to get inside Simon Wass’s head and try to second guess him.” Scarlett sat spread-eagled in the chair alongside Leo’s desk; moleskin jacket, chocolate brown cords and an open necked pale blue shirt; his footwear unconventional; shiny, square toed short ankle boots with a brass coloured zip on the side. “Where did you get those?” Leo made a cursory nod towards the boots.
“There’s a great little menswear shop, you know the traditional sort, on Grafton Street. They’re Spanish you know.”
Leo tried to look impressed. “It’s just that Ziggy pointed them out to me and said he was looking for something similar. If you see him about I’m sure he’d appreciate the address.” Leo knew that Ziggy would kill him for that. It was a moment of latent humour that Leo would cash in on at The Windsor Castle. “So from what Zigs was telling me the murder of the father was all about dominance; taking over the reins; the emergence of the new generation?” Leo was attempting to kick start the Scarlett engine. It spluttered a few times then revved up to a comfortable running speed. Leo was going to need it to run all day and possibly all night.
“Sort of, Simon Wass was a grub before he murdered his father and now, as he sees it, the butterfly has emerged. This Victoria Sharpe thing fits in nicely; he WAS beneath her..... Not literally” Scarlett chuckled. “She was in simple terms too beautiful for him, but, and now that he has emerged a strutting peacock of defiance and authority; they are equals and he’s ready to mate.”
Leo squinted but the swelling and mask prevented any or all facial expressions being seen. No, Leo just looked like he had a fat, expressionless, black and blue face peeping out from behind the mask of a phantom. “Wait just there Dick” he waved his arms and raised his palms upwards, feeling the need to gesticulate more. “Am I misreading this or is there a possibility that Victoria could or has become the central pivot for this abduction? You said that Simon Wass has changed, is it possible that he’s no longer interested in revenge, revenge for the humiliation and pain that these three....... Boys inflicted over 40 years ago? Could it be that revenge has become a .... A..... Sacrificial offering?
“No, nothing of the sort, he’s taken James purely for revenge. Victoria is just a side show; it perfectly illustrates his frame of mind. He feels utterly invincible.
Jack joined them and for three hours solid they threw ideas back and forth, left, right and turned them inside out; but to no avail. Mikey’s interruption provided a welcome break; a chance to pee, drink coffee and clear their heads. “Twelve of the possible sites have been inspected” Mikey began; “but no gaps evident in the reinforcing bars and no way that a man could be contained under them. We’re still waiting to hear back from a further five and I’ve pushed the search area back to include the whole of England plus Glasgow and Edinburgh.” Mikey didn’t wait for any feedback, there was none to give. He raised a hand and moved out of the stale aired environment of Leo’s office; about now they all needed some luck.
It was the firework that Leo used in situations like this. When heads started to drop, when conversation was replaced by yawning, when faces blanked and the noise of the investigation fell to little more than a whisper; then Leo would light the rocket. He pushed thoughts of James Horsham out and imagined that it was Rufus that Simon Wass held captive. It was his job to work as if it was his son who had been captured; his son who now only had 18 hours to live. It gave fresh impetus, aggression and energy to the investigation; a desperation to drive the productivity of those around. Leo barked but still they weren’t getting the breaks. It was going to be a long night ahead for everyone.
18. Pour.
‘Deathly quiet’ Wass thought; it was a good way to describe it. He’d rigged up a toboggan, ‘always been inventive’ and it enabled him to pull Horsham and his paraphernalia across to the spot in one go. He’d rehearsed it many many times. The oxygen tank first; then connect the piping to the concrete coloured coffin; the contents of which he’d sorted back at the airfield; the lights, the IPod, the gently breathing body. Wass lowered the coffin deep into the footings with a couple of slings and a rope. He used the reinforcing bars like pulleys; easing the box lower and into the trough. It was important that the box wasn’t structurally damaged; he needed Horsham’s pocket of space to remain intact. ‘Yes, it’s invisible’ he announced to himself. What could possibly go wrong now? Wass enjoyed tempting fate, ‘it’s a done deal, a year and two steps ahead of everyone’ he thought. Wass checked his watch; Horsham should be out for another six hours and the concrete would start to arrive in four. Wass knew construction, knew how it worked, knew that the pour would start in the far left hand corner and right on top of Horsham. Then as the morning progressed the slab of concrete would creep from top left to bottom right, there was no other way to do it. The whole slab laid by 10.00am, 10.30 at the latest. It was just a question of waiting, he’d place the two calls as the first lorry connected to the concrete pumping rig and the oxygen would flow; the message loop round and round until the IPod’s battery finally failed. Wass was intrigued; who would outlast who? Horsham or the IPod?
It was 6.45am when Wass placed the calls. The message looped; but Horsham wouldn’t hear it for at least another two hours...... “You’re dead James Horsham and this is the last voice you’re ever going to hear.......” the message began.
The Friday morning concrete pours all around the country had begun. Leo and his team had finally reached a standstill and didn’t know where to look; it was half a needle in a barn full of hay.
“I’m grabbing some air Mandy.” Leo held up his mobile so she could see that he was just a call away; “back in five”. He strode across the yard and drew the damp morning air into his stale lungs; out through the security gates; a cursory flash of his ID to the gate. There were two good cafés on the street serving up breakfast. Leo went to the furthest and ordered a take-out bacon sandwich with HP sauce. ‘Failed, fucking failed’ he thought. The waitress looked at his face, trying to recognise the man behind the protective plate. The noise levels were high, the restaurant busy; a mixture of labourers and suits. These were the only places in London where they could sit comfortably side by side; a bond created by the irresistible draw of bacon, sausages, eggs and a cup of tea so strong that you could stand your spoon up in it. Leo continued to torture himself and went over the old ground again; ‘think, think, was he fooling me? But why would he? He knew I wouldn’t live; 2ft and reinforced and he meant it; this Friday, today, and he meant it.’ Nothing was coming to him. Leo paused outside the café and leant against the wall. ‘Last chance; what am I missing?’ He took a large bite out of the soft white bread sandwich. It was just like the bread he’d eaten at school. There were no multigrain loaves then, no wholemeal to talk of. No the bread at school had always been soft, white, square and heavily processed and it made great toast. Something was nagging him, something he’d just been thinking of. Leo retraced his steps; went back into the café and looked around.
“Have you lost something sir?” The waitress smiled.
“No, just a thought” Leo left again. Scarlett would have said that it was the sandwich that regressed Leo, that sent him back to his school days; maybe it wasn’t the sandwich at all, perhaps more specifically it was the HP sauce........ In reality it was the square white processed bread that made him think back to his school days and with that thought a pebble struck a stone which hit a rock and moved a boulder. “Fuck, why didn’t I......” He pulled out his mobile and pressed the call button. It was a forceful direct question that struck Mandy right between the eyes. “Are they building at the school Mandy?........ Are there any footings?”
“Shit Guv, there’s a new sports centre going up; why didn’t I?”
Leo inter
rupted, why hadn’t any of them thought of it before. “Get onto the Head now, if they’re pouring concrete stop it; I’ll be back in a second.” Leo chucked the remaining sandwich into the bin and ran back at a sprint.
The office was silent and people looked away. “What? What’s going on?” Mandy held the receiver to her ears and spoke to Leo.
“They’ve finished Guv; 20 lorries worth; I’m holding for the Project Manager.”
“Give me the number for that structural engineer you spoke to Mandy, and Mikey ring the brass at Pioneer Concrete; see what we can do. How do we best shift this pile of drying concrete?”
The three phones were manned and rapid discussions were taking place, life and death discussions. The rest of the team gathered close by, piecing together snippets of conversation; raising eyebrows and shaking heads.
“It’ll already have started to go off so you won’t be able to pump it out” the engineer told Leo.
“Look, I need help here; so please don’t keep telling me what we can’t do, what the hell can we do?”
“Not much..... Your one chance is if someone saw a hole in the reinforcement; and if that person can then pinpoint the location you’ll have to go in with a JCB and bucket the concrete out. There’ll be a bit of flow back from the rest of the slab but it’ll be going off, the viscosity of the liquid heavily reduced, and with the reinforcement holding it all together.......... Well all I can say is that it’s your best chance, your only chance really.”
Leo ended the call and rang the Project Manager at the school back. All the men on site and all the drivers of the cement mixers needed to be questioned immediately, and by phone if necessary. Leo needed to know if anyone had seen anything unusual; specifically relating to the reinforcing rods. “We have no more than 10 minutes to establish this information. Get your deputy to talk to the men on the site and I need you to personally contact each vehicle. We don’t have time. Oh and get a JCB with a bucket on standby.” Leo ended the call abruptly, he had a plan but the fuse was short and burning fast.
