Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller

by Tony J. Forder

  Right at that moment there was a knock on the door. “I have to go, sir. Someone here for me, it could be important. I’ll call you right back.”

  Hendricks killed the call and tucked the phone away in his trouser pocket. It was Nutton at the door. Hendricks stepped aside to let the man into his room. “You could have got a better place for the night,” he complained. “This is a bit of a dump, even for NCA standards.”

  Nutton did not respond. When both men were in the main part of the room, Nutton turned. In his hand he held a pistol. It was aimed at Hendricks.

  Hendricks frowned, and then laughed. “What the fuck is this?”

  “I heard you on the phone. Were you talking to Dwyer?”

  “What the fuck does that have to do with you? And would you mind telling me why you’re playing at being Clint fucking Eastwood all of a sudden. You’ll make my fucking day when I send you back off to wherever you came from with a hail of bullets aimed at your arsehole. Arsehole!”

  Nutton smacked a hand against his side. “Damn! I played my hand too soon. I thought you might have asked Dwyer why he sent me.”

  “That’s exactly what I was just…” Hendricks did not complete the sentence. It dawned on him, slowly at first, then the entire picture suddenly became clear. He took a step back, his leg striking the bed.

  “Oh,” he said. “I see. I asked him why he sent you. I never had a chance to hear his response. He would have told me he didn’t send you, right? That he’s never even heard of you.”

  “Right.”

  “Because I fucked up?”

  “Because you fucked up.”

  Hendricks took a long breath. “I can still be useful to them. We, you and I, could still be useful. There’s a whole reservoir of information out there to be drained off.”

  “I guess this time I also fucked up. Only, there’s no one left to tell.”

  Hendricks was about to disagree on that point, when the gun was raised.

  Three shots later two centre mass, one to the head and Hendricks stopped thinking altogether.

  Rhino and Haystacks watched it all unravel from a safe distance. The lone cop eventually quit whatever he was doing inside the station and headed for his car. As his Mondeo edged its way into town, Rhino’s Mercedes followed. It irritated Rhino that his boss refused to let them know who his inside man was. Chris referred to it as ‘compartmentalising’. Rhino considered it just plain old bullshit. He had an idea it could be this cop, but that was just a guess.

  The cop drove out to the motorway and pulled into the services. He sat there for twenty minutes, at which point another vehicle pulled up alongside. The passenger in that car, a Jaguar XK, joined the cop in his Ford, where they talked for a little over ten minutes. When they were done, both pulled back out of the services. Rhino watched all this with great interest as he followed once more. The Jag driver had status; during the conversation, the cop had come across as deferential. That could only mean the Jag man carried some weight. When he reported it all to Chris, his boss listened but made no comment. He simply told them to stick with it and wait for the go command, or to call it as they found it.

  They drove back into Chippenham. The cop ate at a Burger King, went for a pint at a crowded Wetherspoons, and then made his way to a Premier Inn. Rhino reported on their status once more, having chosen a spot with the best view of the building and its grounds. The next thing of interest to occur was that the cop they believed to be their guy’s partner exited the same hotel and slipped away into the gathering gloom. As the partner’s vehicle was lost from view, Rhino looked across at Haystacks.

  “Did you notice that other cop’s car parked up?”

  His companion shook his head sullenly. He wasn’t in a talkative mood. He had bent Rhino’s ear for most of the afternoon and early evening about how he was sick of boring jobs like this. To Rhino’s memory, this was the first such job they had ever done for Chris.

  “Maybe we should’ve followed him. Earlier and now. At least he’s doing something. More than any other fucker from what I can see.”

  Haystacks shrugged.

  Rhino sighed and shook his head. It felt as if they were set for the night. He was prepared, having done it before. But Haystacks snored like a freight train, which meant a poor night in store for both of them.

  “I’ll take first watch,” he said. He was tired, maybe a little weary, But at least he would be ready to sleep when it was his turn.

  A few minutes after Haystacks had settled back into his seat, head propped up against his balled-up jacket resting against the side window, an ambulance came sweeping up outside the hotel and stopped immediately outside the entrance. Moments later the circus was back in town, with three marked and two unmarked vehicles, each with lights pulsing. Armed officers piled out of one vehicle. It wasn’t long before they had the entire place sealed off.

  Rhino was so glad he had decided to park in a street directly opposite the hotel. If he had chosen its car park instead, he and Haystacks would now be trapped. He glanced across at his colleague. “This has got to be about our cop, right?” he said.

  “No question.”

  The big man shook his head, pulled out his mobile, and called Chris. When he was done, he turned to Haystacks and shrugged expansively. Shaking his head he said, “Chris says we’re to stay put. Looks like his man is not the poor sod who needs that ambulance.”

  Haystacks returned to pulling at his beard.

  21

  I was out of my mind.

  Not on either drugs or drink, which would have been fine by me. I was demented by reality. In the space of a heartbeat, a person’s life had been snuffed out so brutally just inches away from me. Not any person, either. A friend. Perhaps the last real friend I had. A friend whose blood had sprayed down on me in a shower of horror.

  Wherever my gaze fell, it fell upon the same thing. It didn’t matter what my eyes were showing me, for within my head a gout of blood erupted from a burst balloon and rained down upon my upturned face. It was a nightmare whilst more awake than I had ever been, one that replayed over and over and over again. A spool of violence, unrelenting and obscene. I stumbled along the streets, aware of the sight I presented to other pedestrians, fully understanding that I could not carry on in that state, yet pursued through the streets by vivid and garish images of a lifeless face torn to pieces by a single projectile.

  The revulsion felt as if it continued for hours, but the whole thing was over in a few minutes. Even so, I swiftly realised I had completely lost track of time. My awareness of surroundings, of people, became peripheral, which made me vulnerable. I had a sense of being outside of myself, looking on at this blood-spattered creature lurching along the pavements. It was a panic far worse than that caused by witnessing the murder of Ray Dawson.

  Not again, I thought. Get a grip of yourself, Mike.

  I had to find a way out of this maelstrom, back to myself once more.

  First thing to address: it wasn’t just my shambling gait that was drawing attention. I buttoned my jacket all the way, but still the vivid scars of Susan’s death remained on my shirt in smears and ribbons of crimson red. I spotted a Tesco supermarket and ducked inside. I found the clothing section, snatched up a polo shirt in my size. Wedged between the ends of two aisles of racking I removed my suit jacket, tore off the once pristine white shirt and balled it up. I used it to wipe blood and tissue from my face and hands and hair as best I could. Then I wriggled into the new grey top and paid for it with some of Susan’s cash.

  I ignored the woman behind the counter, her severe frown indicating how irregular it was to carry out a sales transaction in this way. I asked for a bag anyway, into which I stuffed my soiled clothing. The whole thing went into a large rubbish bin which stood at the exit from the store. I felt the eyes of the cashier on me.

  It wasn’t perfect but it would do. Both to avoid drawing attention, and if anyone had been following me the change of clothes would help. Despite my head screaming at me
to hurry, to find sanctuary as quickly as possible, I forced myself to take extra precautions the closer I got to the Best Western, making sharp about-turns, ducking in and out of alleyways, criss-crossing streets. Still frantic, I nonetheless had the presence of mind to run through the hotel entrance when it was at its most obscured by passers-by. The receptionist said nothing but the room number when I mentioned Susan’s name, yet she had to have been aware of my agitated state and whatever residue of blood I had been unable to entirely eradicate. I decided it didn’t matter anymore. The precautions I’d taken had to be enough I had nothing else to give.

  When Melissa let me into the room, I brushed past her and sat down on the bed without a word. I drew my knees up to my chest, lowered my head into my hands, and silently but steadily wept, shoulders heaving, a low keening escaping my lips. It went on until I was drained and only the torment of loss remained.

  “Mike?”

  Melissa whispered to me, a hand resting upon my shoulder. I glanced across to see that Charlie was, thankfully, sound asleep on the double bed. Without looking up I said, “Susan was killed. Shot dead while she was sitting right beside me.”

  Without a word, Melissa wrapped her arms around me and rested a cheek on my head. This stark and unexpected moment of tenderness caused me to sob again, and I felt the fresh strain of bone-deep anguish ripping through my body. Somehow shielded by Melissa’s comforting embrace, the emotion flooded out of me until I was drained. I felt weakened by all that had happened. Perhaps even broken by it.

  “I killed her,” I told Melissa, staring up at her, blinking away my tears. “I killed my best friend.”

  I felt her shrink away from me, and I shook my head urgently. “No, I didn’t have anything to do with shooting her. I just may as well have done. I allowed her to come down here and meet with me. I wanted it. I put her in harm’s way. I knew it was dangerous. I knew it, and I let it happen anyway.”

  I started crying once again and put back my head, not wanting to close my eyes and see Susan’s shattered face staring accusingly back at me. I heard myself wailing softly. I began to rock back and forth.

  “I’m so sorry, Mike,” Melissa said gently. Her breath caressed my cheek. “I really am so very sorry for your loss. Are you hurt at all? You look as if you might be bleeding.”

  I did not want to think about the jagged bone shrapnel that had pierced my own flesh. I shook my head. “This is Sue’s blood. We were inches apart when…” I couldn’t bring myself to complete the sentence.

  “How did you manage to get away?”

  “That’s what I’ve been asking myself ever since I… since I left her there. Oh, God I left her there, Mel. Left her body sitting in her own car.”

  I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my scrambled thoughts. “The thing is, there was just the one shot. I managed to scramble around to the front of the car, then check back on Susan, and then I completely lost it and walked towards where the gunman must have been standing to take his shot. I had no chance. I was an exposed target. But there was no second shot.”

  “Do you think the shot that killed your friend was meant for you?” Melissa asked.

  I shrugged. I had considered that same question on the long walk back. “I don’t know. If I had to guess I would say no. To anyone watching us through a scope it would have been obvious who was in the driver’s seat. If I was the intended victim, then whoever killed her certainly could have taken me out as well.”

  “But why? Why kill her?”

  “To keep her quiet, perhaps. To get her out of the way? I can think of at least one man who wouldn’t want our story to be front page headlines.”

  Melissa frowned. “But if they had killed you instead of her, it would have solved both problems you out of the way and Susan left with no story. Well, a story that would have to rely on hearsay. Come to that, they could have murdered you both.”

  My eyes shifted towards the door, across to the kid, then I switched my attention back to Melissa. She appeared distraught, stress etched into her soft features and perfect skin. When I spoke, my voice was low, more in control.

  “Assuming the person who murdered Sue is the same person hunting for us, I suppose it could have been done to make me panic. To force me to run, head back to you two without thinking. Lead them to you both. After all, taking me out would still have left your whereabouts unknown.”

  It was rational. Logical. Perverse. It had the feel of truth about it.

  “And did you panic?” Melissa got to her feet, casting a fearful glance at the door. “Could you have been followed, Mike?”

  “I can’t be certain, but I did everything I could to make sure that didn’t happen. I was very careful.”

  “But is that enough?”

  It took me only a few moments to arrive at a decision. “No,” I admitted. “We can’t take that chance.”

  Melissa sat back down, her face crumpling. “So, what now? Where do we go, Mike? Where?”

  “I have an idea. It’s not quite a last resort, although it is something I did not want to even contemplate. I am certain it can solve our immediate problem. Provided I wasn’t followed back to the hotel, I think we are safe as long as we stay in this room. Even if they followed me here, they wouldn’t know which room we’re in, so that would require handling on their part. My guess is if they are out there, they will wait for us to leave. So, I’m going to make a call, and I’m going to get us some help.”

  I took out the mobile phone Susan had bought me. I keyed in a number I had long ago committed to memory. I had no idea if it would be answered, or even if it was still in service. But although I had told Melissa that it wasn’t our last resort, I now believed it almost certainly was.

  The call tone was interrupted on the fourth ring.

  “You know who this is?” I asked.

  There was only the slightest pause to lock in the voice.

  “I do.”

  “Have you heard about me?”

  “Should I have?”

  “If you’ve been watching TV or listening to the radio, then yes.”

  “I haven’t. Are you in trouble?”

  “Yes. Look, I don’t ”

  “Don’t waste time explaining. Tell me where. I’ll tell you how and when.”

  The roads around the multi-storey car park were heaving, nose-to-tail traffic inching towards various destinations. It was Haystacks who had taken the call from Chris, Rhino having nipped out to take a piss somewhere. When Chris mentioned a shooting, Haystacks was initially intrigued to learn the identity of the victim.

  “So is this Lynch guy in the frame for Susan Healey’s murder?” he asked.

  “That’s certainly being considered, yes. Lynch was seen, both near the victim’s car and fleeing the car park. Covered in her blood apparently.”

  Haystacks immediately saw the flaw in that theory. “You said the police were considering whether a rifle was used. How does that tie-in with him having blood on him?”

  “It’s early days. Witnesses mention the blood. Passenger door was open. No mention of finding the bullet as yet, but I’m told the back window was shattered. Too soon for an in-depth report, so all options are being considered at the moment.”

  “And the incident here?” The Mercedes was still parked up opposite the hotel.

  “Confirmed as Dave Hendricks, NCA officer. He discovered Ray’s murder scene.”

  “And now he’s dead. Either Mike Lynch is a very busy, very aggressive guy, or something else is going on here, boss.”

  There was a momentary pause before Chris Dawson said, “I’m starting to wonder about that myself, Haystacks. Anyhow, when Rhino gets back from his slash, drive over to the car park and have a nose around.”

  Haystacks sighed. “But your man is there, I take it? Isn’t it a waste having us there as well?”

  “He’s not on scene. It’s going to be harder obtaining regular updates, so drive around, see what you can see and have Rhino call me when you have.” />
  The call was ended abruptly before Haystacks could complain further.

  So now they were stuck on the road going nowhere, unable to get anything like close to the murder scene. Haystacks suffered in silence for a change, whilst Rhino tapped his fingers and cursed aloud every few minutes. They had moved about one hundred metres in ten minutes when Chris called again.

  “My contact has been reassigned. All he can do is update me on the database records as and when they change, so we won’t hold our breath. You getting anything?”

  “Nothing,” Rhino replied. “As good as useless. Can’t get anywhere near the place.”

  “Word is that Lynch has had it on his toes. Did what he had to do and got out of there. Still no word about Charlie or Mel.”

  “So, what do you want us to do now, boss?”

  “Find somewhere to stay overnight. If I haven’t got back to you by mid-morning tomorrow, come on back.”

  When the call was over, Rhino caught his colleague silently nodding to himself. “What’s with you?” he asked.

  “I prefer ‘in the wind’.”

  “What?”

  “Chris said Lynch has had it on his toes. The Yanks say he’s ‘in the wind’ instead. I’m just saying I prefer that.”

  Rhino shook his head. “You are one strange fellah, Haystacks.”

  Haystacks laughed and nodded. “You have no idea,” he said.

  22

  TWENTY-TWO

  When I put the burner phone back in my pocket, I felt the tension drain from my face and neck. A headache that had been building all day was suddenly gone. Still my mind replayed what had happened back in the car park, and my chest rose and fell rapidly at the thought of my murdered friend.

  Dear Susan.

  Her awful death made me feel more determined than ever to see this through. This wasn’t just about me anymore. Nor Mel or the kid, either. Now I owed a debt to a friend. A friend whose last mistake had been to try and help me.

  Worn out from our trip around the park and alongside the river, Charlie remained fast asleep and oblivious to the profound tension within the hotel room. Perching on the end of the bed, Melissa looked up expectantly at me as I drew in a deep breath.