ASBO: A Thriller Novel

by Iain Rob Wright

  Andrew kept his back close to the wall as he progressed down the corridor. He may have been willing to give himself up to the police, but not until he saw that Bex was okay. He followed the signs for Ward 7, sure that it was the right one.

  The hallways up ahead were busier: doctors milled about casually while nurses flittered around them. They weren’t quite the hectic, overly stressed members of staff from A & E, but they seemed agitated, all the same. A sign hanging from the ceiling read: RECOVERY WARDS.

  Andrew reached the end of the corridor and looked around the corner. His heart skipped three beats when he saw the police officers standing there. They were gathered around a single room.

  It must be Bex’s room.

  So close. So goddamn close.

  Andrew leaned back against the wall and beat his head against the cement. The pounding actually helped him to think, dulling the pain that emanated from a dozen different places on his body. He had to find a way to get the officers away. Andrew couldn’t risk Frankie sneaking in and hurting his daughter while the police were busy arresting him. Looking around, he noticed something that could offer a solution. On the wall, only a few feet away, was a small red panel with a film of glass at its centre. Written in ominous white font were the words: PRESS IN CASE OF FIRE.

  There was no fire, of course, but Andrew wasted no time in pressing his thumb against the glass panel. It compressed within its red metal surroundings and a shrill alarm pierced the air. Andrew glanced back around the corner and watched the confusion percolate amongst the staff and members of the public. Even better, Andrew watched while a nurse walked up to the police officers and insisted that they leave the ward along with everyone else. It didn’t look like they were willing, but, thankfully, the nurse was persistent. Then something happened that hadn’t occurred to Andrew. Orderlies started to appear in great numbers. They began gathering patients and wheeling them away on gurneys and in wheelchairs. Andrew felt stupid that it hadn’t occurred to him that the whole hospital would be evacuated, patients and all – not just the staff.

  Andrew watched while a young male orderly entered Bex’s room to bring her out. Andrew made his move. He dashed across the nurse’s area, dodging between preoccupied men and women unaware that the fire was fictitious. He hopped out of the way of an oncoming gurney, shoes skidding on the polished floor, and then managed to barrel his body over towards Bex’s room. He was just about to open her door when someone grabbed him from the side.

  “Andrew.”

  Andrew spun around with his fist raised, but lowered it when he saw it was Officer Dalton.

  “You need to come with me,” she told him. “I take it the fire alarm was your doing?”

  Andrew nodded. “I just need to see my daughter and then I’ll come with you.”

  Dalton shook her head. “I can’t allow it. There’s police looking everywhere for you. I can’t risk anyone witnessing me doing anything other than taking you in. I already gave you the chance to do what you needed to do. Now you need to keep your promise and come with me, Andrew.”

  “Please,” Andrew pleaded. “Just let me say goodbye to my daughter. You can wait right outside the door.”

  “No.”

  “Please, I need to tell my daughter that I’m sorry. Her mother died tonight and I’m all she has left. She needs to know how much I love her.”

  Once again, Andrew managed to get the female officer to relent. Her face softened and she actually seemed annoyed at herself for being so easily-convinces. “Just don’t make me regret this, okay? I’ve already put my job in jeopardy for you.”

  Andrew put his hand on the door to enter, but Dalton put a hand on his chest and stopped him. “Frankie?”

  Andrew looked her in the eye and shook his head solemnly. “I couldn’t find him.”

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside. The first thing he saw was Bex lying in her bed. The second thing he saw was the unconscious orderly on the floor. The third thing was Frankie, standing right beside the door. He was pointing a gun.

  Frankie cocked the revolver’s hammer and smiled. “Glad you could finally join us, Andrew. The party’s about to end.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Andrew stared down the barrel of the gun (something he never thought he’d find himself doing). Guns were completely outlawed in the United Kingdom, and he’d never seen one for real, but here he was, now close enough that he could smell the oil on the metal.

  “Daddy!”

  Bex was obviously terrified and Andrew wished that she didn’t have to see that he was, too. “It’s okay, sweetie,” he told her. “We’ll get this all worked out.”

  “I hear you had a little run in with Dom?” said Frankie. His upper lip twitched as he spoke. “Right after you killed his brother. That was cold, man.”

  Andrew put both hands above his head. It felt like the appropriate thing to do with a gun pointed at him. “There’s police right outside the door, Frankie. Just give yourself up and there’s a chance you might not spend the rest of your life in jail.”

  Frankie laughed. “Not going to happen. Got business to deal with first. But hey, why leave your little police officer friend waiting outside? Bring her in to join the fun.”

  Andrew lowered his hands and raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  Frankie motioned at the door with his revolver. “Shout her. Tell her to get in here. Don’t make it obvious what’s going on though.”

  “No,” said Andrew in a firm voice. He would not bring anybody else into this mess. Dalton had already done too much to help him that he owed it to her not to endanger her.

  Frankie pointed the gun at Bex. “I ain’t asking, Andrew. Unless you want me to make an entrance in your daughter’s forehead, I’d do as you’re told.”

  Andrew sighed. He had no choice. “Officer Dalton? I’m ready to go with you now. Would you come in here?”

  There was a moment of silence before the officer replied from outside. “No. I think you should come out here.”

  Frankie shook the gun barrel at him. “Think fast, hero! Get her in here now or your daughter’s head becomes a wind tunnel.”

  Andrew swallowed a lump in his throat and considered his words carefully. “Officer Dalton, my daughter would like to speak to you before you arrest me. She wants you to promise that you’ll get Frankie for what he’s done to us.”

  Frankie laughed. “Nice.”

  The door opened and Dalton stepped through. “Sweetheart, I promise we’ll send the monster down…” Her words trailed off as her eyes caught Frankie standing in the corner of the room.

  Frankie grinned at her. “Hi there, honey. Why don’t you sit your fine ass down.” He motioned with the gun towards one of the visitor chairs. “Do it now, before I start making a mess of people.”

  Dalton let the door close behind her and took a step towards Frankie. “Drop the weapon! Drop it right now and no one has to get hurt.”

  “Don’t think you understand who has the power here, luv. I have a gun and you…don’t.”

  Dalton continued to stare Frankie down. Andrew noticed her gradually move a hand to her hip, resting it on the belt that ringed her waist. “I won’t ask you again,” she told Frankie. “Put. The. Weapon. Down.”

  Frankie’s self-assured grin grew wider. “Sit the fuck down, you stupid bitch. You ain’t telling no one to do nothing.”

  Dalton reached for her belt, clawing at one of the many pouches that adorned it. But she wasn’t quick enough. Frankie pulled the trigger before Andrew could even see what it was she’d been reaching for. The whole room seemed to explode with sound. Andrew’s ears rang and his vision tilted. When his senses finally returned to normal, Dalton was sprawled out across the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. The officer was alive but the gunshot wound in her guts had made a mess and was obviously causing her unimaginable amounts of pain. Bex began screaming from her bed.

  Andrew scurried to help Dalton but Frankie stood in his wa
y, cocking the revolver ready for the next shot. “Stay the-fuck still.”

  “Let me help her,” Andrew demanded.

  Frankie shook his head and sneered. “What’s to help? She’s done for.”

  Andrew looked down at Dalton and disagreed. She was certainly in bad shape, but she was still conscious and moving – dragging her body across the floor and propping herself up against the wall. Behind her she left a dark-red trail of blood like a wounded slug. Without medical attention, she would die for sure. Another life hanging in the balance because of Frankie’s senseless vendetta.

  Frankie prodded Andrew in his bad ribs with the gun barrel making him wince, then prodded him again for good measure. “Sit down on the floor, opposite her” he ordered. “No more playing’.”

  Andrew glanced at Rebecca, who had tears in her eyes. Then he looked away because it hurt too much to see her in pain. He bent his knees and slid down against the wall adjacent to the one Dalton was leant against. The officer looked at him; her face was sweat-covered, and pale. Blood spilled from her stomach in a steady stream, drenching her uniform.

  “Why are you doing this, Frankie?” Andrew asked. “I mean, really? You’ll spend your whole life in jail, and for what? All because you don’t like the look of my face?”

  Frankie’s eyebrows twitched. “Shut up! I ain’t ever going down again. I’ll die first.”

  “So why then? If you never want to go back to prison again, why cause trouble the moment you’re out?”

  “What the fuck else I gonna do? Work at a bank?”

  Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? You could have done a million different things – but instead you chose to murder my wife?”

  “Mom?” Bex’s eyes went wide. “No, she’s not dead. She can’t be.”

  Andrew hadn’t meant for her to find out like that, and cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke. Now that she knew, he was unable to console her, and that hurt badly. Frankie had once again managed to prevent him from looking after his family.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew told his daughter. “I didn’t find out until after I left you.”Bex mewled like a wounded animal, buried her face in her hands. Andrew glared at Frankie. “Do you enjoy this? Causing all of this hurt to innocent people?”

  “Who says you’re innocent?”

  Andrew was ready to give up. There was no part of Frankie that had any remorse, or even a basic understanding of right and wrong. There might have been something there, deep beneath the surface, but Andrew had no idea how to get at it.

  “My daughter is innocent,” Andrew stated. “What has she ever done?”

  “She belongs to you.”

  “And what have I done, exactly? Is this all because I didn’t buy you a packet of cigarettes?”

  Frankie was breathing quickly, his twitch became erratic. “You needed to learn a lesson.”

  “What lesson? You know nothing about me.”

  “I needed to teach you some respect.”

  “Why is it so important that some guy you never met respects you? Are you that insecure?”

  Frankie thrust the gun forward at Andrew, and for a moment it looked like he would pull the trigger. Andrew didn’t flinch, though – not for a scumbag like Frankie. When the gun didn’t go off however, it became clear that Andrew had scratched at something – something beneath the calloused surface of Frankie’s persona.

  Andrew smirked, seeing an opportunity to seize control. “But this was never about me, was it? This is about your own bullshit. So what is it, Frankie? Did Daddy abuse you?”

  “Fuck you! I never even knew my dad.”

  Andrew was getting closer. He could sense it. “Hardly surprising, having met your lovely mother. Maybe it was the young offender’s home, then? Did one of the bigger boys make you his bitch?”

  Frankie pulled the trigger.

  Andrew’s vision went white, like someone had lit a firework inside his skull. The pain came hot and heavy, accompanied by thick waves of nausea and mind-rattling dizziness. The agony was so gigantic and all-consuming that Andrew couldn’t even tell where he’d been hit. It was only when his vision returned, and he saw the blood pouring from his knee, that he knew.

  Bex screamed again, crying out for her father and begging for Frankie to leave them all alone.

  “I told you not to fuck with me.” Frankie shouted at Andrew on the floor. “I told you, didn’t I?”

  Andrew slid along on the floor like a wounded animal, leaving behind a trail of hot, sticky blood that mixed with the one left behind by the officer. He dragged himself over towards Dalton who stared at him with wide-eyes, no doubt wondering how the hell she’d gotten herself into this situation. Andrew knew how she felt.

  Frankie marched forward and kicked Andrew’s wounded knee. The pain bloomed again like a nuclear explosion, sending away his vision in a cloud of agony. “How’s that feel, huh?”

  “Please,” Andrew cried out. “Haven’t you done enough? Just leave us alone. I’m begging you.”

  “Why would I do that?” Frankie kicked Andrew again, this time in the side of the head. “If I kill the three of you, who’s going to say I did anything?”

  “The police already have…Andrew’s…statements,” said Dalton, in a half-conscious drawl. We know all about you, Francis.”

  Frankie wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. “Well, it still wouldn’t do any harm getting rid of the witnesses. What is they say? In for a penny, in for a pound. I’m already a murderer so what’s a few more bodies going to hurt?” He placed himself down on Bex’s bed and she squirmed as he stroked her face. “Shall I leave you for last, princess? Let you watch all the fun before I put your lights out, too?”

  “Please,” she pleaded. “Just go. My dad won’t say anything.”

  Frankie laughed. “Seriously? You’re going with that old chestnut? It doesn’t work in the movies and I can tell you right now that it doesn’t work in real life either, darling.”

  “Get away from her, you evil bastard.”

  Frankie turned to Andrew on the floor. “Or else what, you sad fuck? You couldn’t take me on with both legs working, so what use are you now?” Frankie put a finger in his mouth and sucked it before holding it in the air. Andrew was forced to watch while he delved it beneath his daughter’s blankets.

  Bex struggled and squirmed while Frankie cackled uncontrollably. His laughter stopped, however, when Rebecca struck his face with her hand. The slapping sound filled the room and was followed by absolute silence.

  Frankie got up off the bed and yelled at her. “Stupid cow!” He lunged forward and punched her in the face. It wasn’t hard enough to knock her out, but it seemed to jar some of her senses loose as her eyes rolled about in her head like marbles.

  Andrew cursed Frankie, not caring that it could lead to another gunshot. His pain could worsen no more and his hatred for the boy was boundless. “You’re a pathetic little bully. Taking things out on a helpless girl, all because you got passed around a kid’s jail like a television remote. I bet you’ve got an arsehole like a clown’s pocket.”

  Frankie pointed the gun at Andrew again. It was obvious that his comments were on the money as they had been before. This time though, Frankie’s reaction was calmer. He lowered the gun away from Andrew and smiled.

  Then he pointed it at Bex.

  And fired.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Davie got off the bus at the stop nearest the hospital, which turned out to be just across the road. In less than a minute, he was walking through the car park and heading for the main building. He didn’t know exactly where inside he would find Andrew or Frankie, but he knew that asking a member of staff would probably be a bad idea. When he saw the crowd gathering outside the hospital’s main entrance, accompanied by a shrill, ringing alarm, Davie knew that finding his brother might be easier than he’d imagined. Something had happened, and it would be a safe assumption that Frankie was involved somehow.

  There were ho
spital employees all over the road, comforting patients on gurneys and in wheelchairs. There were also several police officers standing around grumpily. Davie would have to avoid them all if he had any chance of getting inside the hospital.

  He stepped behind a row of cars and made his way forward in a crouch. There didn’t seem any possible way to make it through the main entrance without someone stopping him, but there was no other obvious way in. Perhaps there was a rear entrance.

  Davie snuck around the back of an ambulance and headed down the side of the building. There was a power generator inside a brick enclosure around the corner and, beyond that, a wall lined with many square windows. Even further ahead was just the something that Davie needed: an open fire exit. Only trouble was a hospital employee standing there in a chef’s uniform, puffing on a cigarette as though the ringing alarms were of no concern to him.

  “Hey,” said Davie, approaching the man nonchalantly. “Having a sneaky fag?”

  The man nodded. “I’d just finished my break when the fire alarms went off. Thought it was a good opportunity for another. Managed to buy another pack just as the gift shop was clearing out.”

  “Won’t they be doing a role call or something?”

  The man shrugged. “Probably. It’s just a false alarm, though. Do you see any fires?”

  Davie shook his head. “In that case, can I go through?”

  The man took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in the air. “What is it tonight with people not using the main entrance?”