Nemesis - John Kane's revenge

by Bill Carson

  The other thing that Nick had overlooked in his excitement to rush off to play with some cars was the fact they hadn’t got a stick of furniture for their flat. It was completely bare apart from some tatty old curtains, and the place clearly hadn’t been touched for years. Luckily an IKEA and a huge DIY store were just up the road, and so the credit card received another beating and went from warm to red hot as she added another two thousand pounds to the day’s spend. At close of play five thousand pounds had bitten the dust in cold blood.

  Over the next few days the little office became a hive of activity, and deliveries seemed to be coming in non-stop, one after the other. Anna was darting around all over the place; one minute she was painting the bedroom walls, the next downstairs signing for deliveries and dealing with the engineers who were installing the fibre optic internet and phone lines, while Nick was outside tinkering with his new toy. Nick’s latest acquisition was an Audi A7s, which looked fantastic as it sat outside the office in the afternoon sun like a big black beetle. The car had all the latest gadgetry, and had been fitted with lots of extras. Nick had also paid extra for the black leather trims and sports seats. Anna was a little worried about spending so much money, and wasn’t sure how he was going to react when she gave him the good news of her total spend, but she eventually plucked up the necessary courage and told him the damage. He was surprisingly unconcerned; she put it down to him being too preoccupied with his new car.

  Anna stood at the small window of their flat in her paint-splattered overalls and pushed the net curtain aside. She peeked out at the busy street below, and watched Nick as he nonchalantly leant against the open door of the sports car while chatting on his mobile. Boys and their bloody toys, what a poser, she thought, and then finished bolting the last sections of the double bed together. All of the orders she had placed had now safely arrived, and the office was really beginning to take shape. Nick’s contributions so far was to supply the money, buy a flash sports car and sort out his own office. However, once he’d finished it, you couldn’t help but to be impressed. While he was downstairs refurbishing his office, Anna was busy creating their little love nest upstairs.

  After going flat out for a week they were finally ready and open for business. The place really did look the part, especially Nick’s office, what with all the plush furniture and various objets d’art he’d picked up. His specifically chosen dark wood, leather-topped desk and the beautiful old brass banker’s desk lamp he’d bought from Covent Garden market added the finishing touches. For the walls of his office, he had chosen a dark green wallpaper and on one side of the room he’d erected shelves from floor to ceiling, which he had filled with old leather bound books. Either side of the window he’d hung two large, tasteful reproductions of turn-of-the-century portraits of the aristocracy in gilt rococo frames.

  Nick stood back and admired his handiwork for a moment.

  “Quality,” he said, as he ran his fingertips along the spines of the books.

  He sat in the thickly padded black leather executive chair behind his desk and switched on the computer.

  “Right then, let’s get some ads out there and get to work,” he said to himself.

  He and Anna spent the rest of that day formulating adverts and creating quirky slogans to send to suitable magazines and newspapers.

  And in no time they got their first serious inquiry. Nick was a little surprised that their first job was to be a murder inquiry. It was from the son of a woman who had been recently murdered. Apparently he wasn’t happy about how the police investigation was being handled, and decided to try and do something about it himself.

  The next day Nick and Anna were watching from the window as the client arrived in a chauffeur-driven Bentley, which dwarfed Nick’s new sports car as it pulled alongside.

  “Fuck me, Anna, look at that motor, two hundred mph them, and that one’s brand spanking new. Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? He must have a few quid though. Listen, don’t send him in straight away; these types can often think that they’re better than you if you start fussing around them, you know, just because they’ve got a few bob. Then they start to dictate the terms and begin to push you around a bit, so leave him out here for a couple of minutes, will you?” he said.

  “I’ll stall him for a minute if I can, and then I’ll buzz you before I let him in,” Anna said, as Nick gave her a thumbs up and disappeared into his office.

  Nick sat down and tidied his desk and pretended to study something on screen, and waited for his new prosperous client. The phone buzzed two minutes later and Anna showed the good-looking young man into Nick’s office. He was a slim man of about thirty with fine blond hair and an intelligent look. He was very smartly dressed in an immaculate dark cashmere suit and had an air of confidence about him.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Nick Harland, welcome to the Harland detective agency, please take a seat. Now we’ve only obtained the basic details of the case so far, which I must say I was quite shocked to hear about, and you have my condolences,” Nick said as they shook hands.

  “Thank you, but before we go any further, Mr Harland, I must know a little more about you and your background as there are so many amateurs and pretenders out there. I’m sorry if that may sound a little offensive, as I am in no way shape or form suggesting that this is the case here, but I must have the right man for the job as I will be offering a very substantial fee,” he said.

  “OK, that’s fair enough, I suppose. All of my credentials are on the website home page but no matter, I’ll quickly run through my background with you. I was in the armed forces for a number of years and was involved in many covert operations. I can’t go into too much detail about those as it is still classified information. After leaving the forces I joined the police, and was with them for just over twenty years. I climbed the ladder, and became a detective inspector and worked on dozens of high profile murder cases. I have also headed teams of detectives and at one time had the best clear-up rate in the south of England. Many of those cases were covered by the newspapers and are all archived and can be viewed if you wish to do so. In a nutshell that’s about it,” Nick said, slightly perturbed by the direct manner of the fair-haired young man opposite.

  “So may I ask why you decided to leave the police force, Mr Harland?”

  Fuck me, what is it with this fella? I’ve told him all he needs to know and he can check all of this out online anytime, which I suspect he’s already done. Well, two can play this game, sonny, and I don’t care how many Bentleys you’ve got, I’m getting the hump with you, Nick thought.

  “Well, I suppose you could say that it’s probably for the same reasons that you’re sitting here and not down at your local police station,” Nick said.

  “Touché, Mr Harland, and I take your point. So you, like me, became disillusioned with it all, then?”

  “Yes, it’s safe to say that I was very pleased to leave it all behind. Now I can strike out on my own and make my own judgments, without the fear of being countermanded and overruled and bogged down with red tape and ridiculous politically correct rhetoric and bureaucracy.”

  “Thank you for being so forthcoming, Mr Harland. You see, I have met half a dozen so called private detectives over the past few days, and quite frankly they have all been a bit of a joke and have wasted my valuable time. Most of them were just rent-a-thug wheel clampers and debt collectors. I am, as you understand, very anxious to catch the person who murdered my mother and I need to be talking to the right people. I think that you may be the right man for the job.”

  “Well, murder cases are my speciality, but before we go any further I wonder if you could tell me a little bit about yourself, as I haven’t said that I will take the job on as yet.” Touché that, my old son.

  “Oh, well, I didn’t think I was going to be interrogated, Mr Harland,” he said, in a slightly agitated manner.

  “That’s not what I meant at all, and I have no intention of cross-examining you. I like to know
who I’m doing business with. It’s Important to have a little knowledge about who I’m possibly going to be working for, in order to establish a good working relationship.”

  Anna was listening at the door. What did you say that for, Nick? Anymore of that macho point-scoring bullshit and this bloke will walk away, you silly sod.

  “In the interests of a good relationship, but against my better judgement, I’ll divulge a little about myself. I’m the CEO of my own software company which I started after I graduated from university back in the early nineties, from the garage of the very house that my mother was murdered in. I was on my own for a year and then I was able to take on three employees. Now the company employs just over two thousand people and is growing considerably. I turn over a great deal of money now and I have contracts with governments in all parts of the world.”

  Anna thought it might be time for a distraction to de-charge the atmosphere. She tapped on the office door and then presented her pleasant smiling face through the gap.

  “Would you like some tea or coffee, gentlemen?”

  “Yes, that would be very nice, a cup of tea please, no sugar,” said the good-looking young man, as he peeked over his shoulder.

  “Yes, same for me please, Anna,” Nick said. He started to relax a little now that he’d felt that he’d established an even playing field.

  “OK, won’t be a moment,” she said, as she noted the young man’s charming smile.

  Anna’s timely intervention had done the trick and the atmosphere returned to normal. As Nick began to elaborate further on his murder squad credentials, the client sat back and listened intently for the next two hours as Nick lectured him on the modus operandi of serial killers, psychopaths and murderers. He was happy with what he was hearing but was giving nothing away, and just sat quietly. Finally he was sure that he’d now definitely made the right choice and he had heard enough. He raised his hand and cut into Nick’s oratory.

  “Well, it has been a most fascinating insight into the mind of a murder detective, Mr Harland, and from what I have heard here today I will be happy to engage your services. Will you please take the job?”

  “Yes I will, providing that you are happy with the fees. These cases can take a while to come to a conclusion. It will be four hundred a day plus expenses. If that is acceptable, then all we need to do is get your autograph on a couple of documents.”

  “That will be fine. Money is of absolutely no consequence, I just want the murderer brought to justice. Now, on the subject of your fee, if you find or are instrumental in bringing the murderer to court, I will pay you a large sum as a bonus. A life-changing large sum,” he said, as he signed the last of the documents.

  “Oh, er, what kind of sum did you have in mind?” Nick said, a little taken aback with the seriousness of the statement.

  “I am willing to sign an affidavit right here and now to say that I will pay you the sum of one million pounds to find the killer of Mrs Dora Macintyre.”

  Without another word, Nick immediately yanked opened the desk drawer and passed a piece of A4 headed paper across the desk to Simon Macintyre. At the same time he buzzed Anna at the front desk and asked her to come into the office with Simon McIntyre’s chauffeur to witness the extraordinary moment.

  “Well, I didn’t expect that, Mr Macintyre, but by God I’ll accept it on those terms. And now I’ll make you a promise and you can have it in writing if you like: I’ll do everything in my power to find this killer or die trying. How’s that for an affidavit?” he said.

  As they shook hands Simon gripped Nick’s hand with both hands and shook it warmly. Nick was sure he detected a tear beginning to form in the corner of the young man’s eye.

  “Thank you for your sincerity, Mr Harland, and what’s more, after listening to you I believe that you are a man of great integrity. You have all of my contact numbers so don’t hesitate to call me the minute you have something, but not tomorrow, please, as I’ll be busy making funeral arrangements. You know, if it wasn’t for my mother and father, but especially my mother who paid for my university education with all of her hard work, sacrifices and encouragement, I’d not be in this position today. I owe it all to her,” he said.

  Nick and Anna watched as the huge gun-metal silver Bentley nudged itself into the stream of early evening traffic, and in three hours Nick’s life had completely changed direction once again.

  “Bloody hell, Nick, you’ve done it, you’ve really cracked it this time. We don’t need to take on any other work, all we have to do is nail this murderer and we’re made for life. Just like that. Let me see that piece of paper again,” Anna said.

  “Yeah, just like that,” Nick agreed, in his best Tommy Cooper impression. “Anna, I was thinking, how about a nice little drink tonight to celebrate?”

  “Three guesses. First guess, the Royal Oak?” she said.

  “Spot on,” he said, as he chased her up the stairs.

  Chapter 8

  The detective in charge of the murder case of the Cornwall estate agent Nigel Potter was totally baffled by the motive for such a macabre and seemingly meaningless murder of an innocent man. It was something that simply didn’t happen in this part of the world, and a victim who had been horrifically brutalized before being executed was unthinkable. However, he did have one clue to work on, which was the twenty-pound notes that John had given Nigel. They were all fresh and straight from the bank, and all of the serial numbers on them ran in sequence. After a quick enquiry with the local bank manager, the police were able to determine who drew them out.

  It was only a short time after that the police were interviewing the new owners of Dolphin Cottage. The police had quickly established the former owners identity.

  ~~~~

  John Kane exited St Paul’s tube station and stood and turned his face to the bright early morning sun for a moment. As the herd of sheep-like commuters bustled past, he took a deep breath and switched into character before setting off on the short walk to the Old Bailey. For almost two weeks now he had managed to keep up the charade rather well. He was an ideal member of staff and had made sure that he was polite and friendly with everybody that he encountered. He’d now settled in nicely, and was waiting for the right moment to strike. The only problem that he’d encountered so far was that he’d unwittingly managed to acquire an admirer.

  Since their first meeting the nice middle-aged lady from the agency had called him up twice and had asked if she could ‘pop over’ to see how he was getting on. People can be very unpredictable, and their unpredictability can upset or even sink the best laid plans, and this kind of attention was something that he hadn’t and simply couldn’t have planned for. The worst part was that she had now begun to wait outside the court for him, and therefore he was now starting to attract some unwanted attention, and the security guards had started to pass the odd silly remark. For now, he just decided that he would be a little more indifferent toward her in the hope that she may grasp the subtle hints, and then hopefully she would look elsewhere. She wasn’t an unattractive looking woman, she had a good figure and there was something titillating about her; under different circumstances he may well have coveted such attention.

  But not here and not now. It would be totally wrong to show any kind of encouragement, and no matter what way you looked at it, to involve an innocent party in what was about to happen wouldn’t be right. John’s biggest fear, however, was that he may upset her if he displayed too much negativity towards her advances, so he played along as he was wary of what she might do if he was to dump her. A spurned woman can be a most dangerous adversary. Even though she didn’t seem like the type to cause a scene at work, he couldn’t take the risk.

  “Hi, Terry,” she chirpily called out as he tried to slip past unnoticed.

  “Hi, Debbie,” he replied, in a dull, dopey unenthusiastic voice.

  “I just thought I’d catch up with you to see how you’re getting along. Shall we pop up the road for a quick chat and a little drink? There
’s a nice quiet pub on the corner,” she said, and gestured in its direction.

  “Well, I was going to do the washing tonight, Debbie.”

  Doing the bloody washing, what are you on about, you moron? John thought, as he cringed under the ridiculous nature of the statement.

  “Can’t you do that later? It’ll be my treat to celebrate the new job?” she said, as she linked arms and set off before he could answer.

  They sat at the small table for two at the back of the delightful old fashioned pub and sipped their ice cold lagers. While John stared at the table she kept the conversation alive with lots of light-hearted trivia. She told him all about her day at work and how she wasn’t appreciated, and then all about her plans for her imminent holiday to France. As she waffled on he listened politely, and rightly assumed that she must be a desperately lonely creature and how sad that was.

  For he had once known what it was like to have unconditional love, and then to have it taken from him. He knew exactly what it was like to suffer a lonely existence. To go to bed alone, to wake alone, and to have no one to share those special moments with. He knew how dreadfully dismal it was to wake every morning with the prospect of a solitary future perpetually hanging over you.