McAllister had sat smiling for the entire evening, listening to the soothing voice of Kevin Parker. The more she studied him, the more alien he appeared. He seemed slightly off beat as if his movements were too sharp. His words were a struggle at times, overlapping each other as he struggled for cohesion.
He was not human.
McAllister had played along, smiling beautifully and chuckling at his attempts at humour. Every second felt like an hour, the company of a killer causing her spine to tingle like it was her own personal ski slope. When he placed his cold fingers on her arm, every hair stood to attention.
Her stomach turned, and she was almost sick.
Parker didn’t seem to notice, his dark eyes locking onto hers. His gaze was almost hypnotic and McAllister understood the attraction the women felt. As he ordered another drink, she checked her phone.
Nothing from Bermuda.
She was in the process of texting Butler when Parker turned back to her, his eyes flicking to her phone.
‘Who are you contacting?’ His voice was calm, yet oozed menace. McAllister suddenly wished they were in the noisier bar.
‘No one.’
Unconvinced, Parker snatched the phone and read the screen. The plea to Butler was half written, her request for him to bring backup causing Parker’s jaw to tighten. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
He squeezed.
The phone shattered in his hand, causing McAllister to jump and a few neighbours to turn with interest. Through gritted teeth, he spoke.
‘You will leave with me right now.’ Parker met her terrified gaze with his own. ‘Or I will butcher these people.’
‘Look. Just come with me. I can help you.’
Parker laughed, stepping off his stool and suddenly seeming a lot more imposing. ‘You know who I am and what I must do.’
He looked to the door where a bouncer had noticed his intimidation. The burly man, wearing an ill-fitting black shirt, bounded across the bar, the lights reflecting off his shiny bald head. As he approached, he ignored McAllister’s shake of the head.
‘I think you should be leaving, pal.’ The bouncer spoke threateningly, his mouth a few inches from Parker’s ear. Parker moved so fast he was a blur.
Reaching the back of the man’s skull, he drew it down ferociously, shattering the man’s jaw against the bar. The customers gasped and screamed, all of them leaping from their seats and backing away. The bouncer dropped to the floor, a collection of his teeth falling into the pool of blood. Parker gently rested his foot on the back of his head.
‘I will not ask you again.’
McAllister held her hands up to placate him, slowly rising from her stool. Parker’s eyes never left her as she stood, collecting her bag and slowly heading towards the exit. Two more bouncers rushed through the door to the bar, but stopped as they saw their damaged colleague. Parker stared at them, the two men allowing them to leave and following a few steps behind to ensure the offender left the premises.
Then he would be the city’s problem.
They stepped out into the street, the cold wrapping itself around McAllister’s bare shoulders and shaking her to her core. Parker pressed his palm on the small of her back, ushering her to the left, towards a dark, secluded street. A few patrons of Waxy’s stood in the roped-off area, clouds of smoke surrounding their curious gaze. The sound of her heels echoed as they marched past a closed Starbucks, the chairs all upturned and shrouded in darkness. They turned left at the NatWest, onto a small road that was framed by Forbidden Planet and the back gates of many establishments. Parker stopped, his hand clasping on her shoulder and spinning her to him.
His eye spilled into the iris, turning it black.
‘You shall be the final one.’ He tilted his head slightly. ‘They promised me.’
‘Who promised you?’ she managed, her voice escaping her through fear.
‘The darkness. The voice.’ Parker’s mind had been shredded – years of the stone walls and one repeated promise. ‘You will bring her back for me.’
McAllister tried to call for help, but the dark street offered the perfect cover. The rain had sent the majority of the public home to their warm homes and rich lives. McAllister felt the cold touch of loneliness; the first steps to mending her life with Ethan would be in vain. Parker shoved her against the wall, pinning her by the shoulder under his powerful hand.
‘SAM?!’ echoed through the night sky.
McAllister and Parker both turned, the voice echoing up the street in the direction from which they had just walked. With the distant thumping of Waxy’s behind him, Bermuda burst onto the street, his cheeks red, his lungs clutching at as much breath as possible.
‘Bermuda!’ she screamed, only for Parker to slam her harder against the stone, driving the air from her and then wrapping his hand over her mouth.
‘Bermuda,’ Parker repeated, remembering his promise. Bermuda would die.
Taking calm and measured steps, Bermuda slowly approached, his hand out as a sign of submission.
‘Caleb,’ Bermuda said carefully. ‘Caleb – that is your name.’
Parker/Caleb shook his head as if wrestling with a painful memory, the confusion spreading across his face like a virus. His hand pressed harder against McAllister’s face, slowly crushing her head to the wall. Her eyes screamed for help as he restricted her throat.
‘Caleb, let her go,’ Bermuda demanded, another cautious step closer.
‘My name is Kevin. It’s Kevin. It’s Kevin,’ Caleb said, staring into the rain-soaked reflection of the nearest car mirror. ‘I must take her.’
‘Let her go, Caleb. It’s over.’
‘One more. I was promised.’
‘There is no promise. There is no return.’ Despite all the slain, innocent women, Bermuda felt a small speck of sympathy for the confused creature. ‘You have been gone a long time, Caleb. It’s time to stop and go home.’
Parker drew his lips back, his teeth grinding together in agony. His eyes were alive with fury, the confusion wrapping around him like a turban.
‘I will kill you, Bermuda.’ He then turned back to McAllister, blood slowly trickling from the side of her head. ‘But after I take what I need.’
Every muscle in Bermuda’s body tensed, knowing that the following assault was going to push his pain threshold beyond anything he had ever experienced.
But maybe, with the added essence of the Otherside pumping through his veins, he might stand a chance at survival.
Parker reached back his hand, primed and ready to snatch McAllister’s still-beating life from her chest.
Bermuda called out through the rain. ‘Cynthia is dead.’
Parker instantly let go of McAllister and turned, his suit clinging to his body. The wet hair fanned across his forehead as his brow furrowed. He marched towards Bermuda. ‘She will be returned to me.’
‘She is dead, Caleb. She has been this whole time.’
‘Liar!’ Parker furiously swung his arm, the back of his hand crashing into Bermuda’s jaw and rocking him sideways. Bermuda stumbled back and instantly Parker lunged, driving a knee into his gut before ramming the same knee into Bermuda’s nose. Blood burst out of both nostrils as he shattered the bridge before grabbing the back of Bermuda’s coat and ramming him into the nearest car. Bermuda’s head shattered the glass window, the shards clattering to the wet pavement along with him. Bermuda coughed harshly, drew up, and then spat blood that was instantly washed away by the downpour. Bermuda pulled himself forward on his forearms, then slowly began to push himself to his knees.
Parker connected with a vicious kick to the side, lifting Bermuda off the ground and slamming his spine into the same car, the alarm screeching in time with its orange flashing light. Parker hauled Bermuda up by the lapels of his coat before casually tossing him across the bonnet, watching with glee as the interfering man clattered across the metal and collapsed hard on the concrete.
Parker would beat him to death.
A
nd he would enjoy every moment of it.
McAllister had regained her composure on the side of the street and dashed back towards any sign of life, bumping into a few drunken friends who at first offered her nothing but an inappropriate comment. When the two men saw the bleeding, followed by her police badge, they handed her their phone.
She called for backup.
Then for an ambulance.
In the street, a few passers-by watched in horror as a blood-soaked Bermuda was thrown across the street and landed on the windscreen of a parked car. It screeched to life, its alarm singing wildly into the night sky. The screen burst, flaring out into a thousand cracks as Bermuda rolled over and collapsed onto the hard pavement. His tried to crawl, hearing the approaching click of Parker’s shoes.
Parker stepped in front of him, Bermuda trying to best to peer through his swollen eyes that pulsated around his blood-drenched face.
‘You will die tonight.’
Parker then stamped with all his might, the heel of his expensive shoe crushing every bone in Bermuda’s left hand. Bermuda yelled in pain before receiving another firm kick to the mouth.
As he rolled onto his front, his left hand flopped like a bag of loose pencil shavings. The pain caused all energy to leave him.
This was over.
With his last moments arriving, he swivelled his head and shot a glance through the downpour to confirm that McAllister had gone.
She had.
In the distance, he could hear the wailing of sirens, their welcome sound just a little too late. Parker placed the sole of his shoe onto the back of Bermuda’s head, holding him in place. With the fight beaten out of him, Bermuda felt his head being gently pressed to the floor. With his bones broken and blood sprayed all over the street, Bermuda closed his eyes.
A vision of Chloe flashed before him.
He closed his eyes.
Parker slammed his foot down.
The sound of metal piercing flesh and a roar of agony above caused Bermuda’s eyes to flash open. As he did, he saw the spike of the Retriever shunted out of the side of Parker’s leg before he was hoisted away. Parker stumbled to the ground, the bone shattering as the chain retracted, dragging him like a plough across the harsh concrete. The Retriever ripped back through the leg, its chain snaking back across the wet floor until it leapt up and took its rightful place on the golden slate that adorned Argyle’s arm.
Bermuda’s vision was blurred, a cocktail of bruising, blood, and rainwater all stifling his view, the images burning and stinging with no clarity.
Parker pushed himself to his knees, kneeling in the rain. Argyle marched towards him, the sudden arrival of Montgomery Black and Vincent doing little to slow him down.
A burst of blue light filled the street, two police cars blocking off either entrance as the officers bundled out and took their positions. McAllister ran to the front of them, her dress soaked through and tears running down her face.
Bermuda lay broken and motionless.
Parker knelt a mere ten feet away from him.
Black yelled for Argyle to stop, the crowd regarding him as insane. The words echoed down the street; Bermuda heard them ringing but saw them ignored.
Argyle marched across the urban battlefield, splashing the blood that pooled from both men. Ignoring the fallen killer, Argyle dropped to one knee beside his partner, reaching out a caring hand and placing it gently on his shoulder.
‘You owe me ten pounds,’ he said softly.
Bermuda smiled, but instantly groaned in pain.
‘Sadly, this is goodbye.’
Bermuda fought for words, but the blood in his throat choked him. He watched through his heartbreak as Argyle stood and slowly walked back towards Parker, his hand raised and clutching the handle to his murderous blade.
Bermuda tried to reach out a hand, anything to stop Argyle from what he had to do.
The finality of the coming execution.
Argyle circled round, ignoring the wild calls from Black and now Vincent for him to stand down, to obey his orders. As the rain clattered against his mighty frame, he glared at the harbinger of death before him.
The Absent Man.
His father.
‘Is she gone?’ Parker’s words were drenched in defeat.
‘I’m afraid so.’ Argyle felt his heart ache for his mother. ‘Goodbye.’
With a swing of his blade, the entire crowd gasped in horror. The man before them slunk backwards, his throat opening in a large gash and blood spraying out like a crimson firework. Parker fell back against the pavement, the blood gurgling in his throat.
After a few moments, the sickening noises ceased.
Kevin Parker was dead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bermuda lifted off the floor as the paramedics placed him onto the gurney, the comforting mattress a welcome change from the ice cold concrete. The flashing lights of the ambulance danced with the police cars for authority, the watching faces of the crowd a mixture of flashing blue and red.
A paramedic held a massive umbrella over them as they wheel him towards the ambulance, Bermuda trying this best to see beyond them.
After Argyle had watched Parker bleed out, he had slowly lowered himself to his knees and laid his sword out before him. Unclasping the Retriever, he had placed it alongside his other weapon and then placed his hands behind his back in a show of surrender.
Parker, despite his possession, had been a human.
Argyle had murdered him in full view of the BTCO.
Bermuda had passed out through the pain as a few other agents flooded the scene, hoisting Bermuda away with only he and Black witnessing.
DC Butler berated a few officers, screaming at them to clear the path for the paramedics, demanding Bermuda get the attention he needed. Despite their animosity, Butler knew that Bermuda had sacrificed himself for his partner. He needed to be treated.
He deserved his respect.
As the paramedics had tended to him, he heard a number of horrifying injuries being listed out.
‘A fractured eye socket …’
‘Several cracks to the collarbone …’
‘Deep lacerations to the skull …’
‘Crushed left hand, possible amputation …’
None of it hurt as much as the pain of watching Argyle be marched away as a prisoner. Refusing to think of the outcome, Bermuda knew their partnership was over. Parker had been obsessed, but Argyle clearly had reason to end his life. His partner was the most caring creature spanning two worlds.
He was not a murderer.
The wheel of the trolley squeaked as they led him to the ambulance, the buzz of the crime scene humming all around him. A sheet had been thrown over the lifeless body of Kevin Parker, a senior officer taking pictures of the entire area.
Any forensics would be lost to the rain.
Before Bermuda was loaded onto the ambulance, an authoritative voice dismissed the two paramedics. As they left, along with the protection from the rain, Bermuda’s headache grew as DCI Fowler loomed over him.
‘Don’t think this clears anything, Jones,’ he threatened, enjoying Bermuda’s clear anguish. ‘You will be facing every inch of my wrath.’
‘Mrs Fowler sounds like a lucky lady,’ Bermuda muttered through his blood-soaked, broken smile.
‘They will charge you, Jones. I have friends who will ensure the charges stick and you will soon be on the all-meat diet in Pentonville.’
‘No he won’t.’
Both men looked up with surprise as the deep voice of Montgomery Black cut the tension between them. Marching with the authority that Bermuda constantly undercut, he approached the gurney, stepping between Fowler and his injured agent.
‘How dare you?’
‘I dare, lad. This man, despite himself, has just done what your entire police department couldn’t. He managed to figure out how to track that monster and he brought him to justice.’
‘That man is dead.’
‘Justice is
justice.’ Black spoke through gritted teeth. ‘I understand he also saved the life of your detective.’
‘So she says.’
‘Well let me make it clearer to you. I have your superior by the balls, aye. I want to squeeze them, so he makes you disappear, I’ll bloody squeeze them.’ He clenched his fist to emphasise. ‘Now you drop the charges against this man and fuck off.’
Fowler stood straight, his jaw pushed out in frustration. He looked deep into the unrelenting stare of Black before trading a few glances with the battered Bermuda. Sighing, he turned and walked off into the rain, barking his frustration at DI Strachan as she followed like an obedient lapdog.
‘What a horrible man,’ Black uttered, watching the DCI depart with disgust.
‘Thanks, Monty.’ Bermuda tried to lift his right thumb, the left probably gone forever.
‘Well, despite everything, Jones, the usual breed of chaos, you did manage to stop Parker and save a young lady’s life.’ Black removed the glasses from his hooked nose, wiping them on his shirt. ‘That at least deserves to be respected.’
Bermuda nodded his thanks, coughing roughly and feeling a sharp pain in his chest. Did the paramedics mention a punctured lung? Probably.
‘As you know, Jones, I don’t really like you. Not at all.’
‘Charming,’ Bermuda managed, drawing a dry smile from his superior.
‘But Ottoway was right about you. You can be the balance that we need, the man who can step in both worlds and keep them both turning. With Ottoway’s regrettable condition, I have been elected to perform his role in the interim. I have therefore dismissed the notion put forward by the Committee to have you removed from the agency.’
‘Didn’t you put that notion through, sir?’ Vincent interjected, with the usual perfect timing.
Bermuda smirked.
‘That is neither here nor there.’ Black waved a hand dismissively. He straightened his tie before looking at Bermuda without the usual malic. ‘Good job, Jones.’
The Absent Man: A Bermuda Jones Case File (The Bermuda Jones Case Files Book 2) Page 28
