The Badge & the Pen Thrillers

by Roger A Price

  ‘What? Do you think this is a game? We’ll see if you still feel like telling jokes when I hand you over to Jason.’

  Christine glanced at the prancing Jason, moving like a tiger in a cage, and suddenly lost some of her resolve.

  ‘I accept what you’ve told me, but why did you mention Dempster to me back at your sister’s house? Why do you relate Dempster to us? Tell me that and I’ll let you go,’ Quintel said.

  Oh God, what had she done? She thought. She’d no answer for that.

  ‘And although I didn’t see it, I’m amazed at how easily you took care of Jason. You are some kind of reporter?’

  ‘I’m not a cop, if that’s what you mean,’ Christine said, adding, ‘haven’t you seen me on TV?’

  ‘No I haven’t, but I do know you are one of those nosy bastard types, and apart from sticking your snout into my affairs, which has come as an added shock, you have been nosing around into the affairs of others, haven’t you?

  This must be to do with the documentary, though she’d still no idea why, or how?

  ‘You might be a reporter on the surface, but you could be some kind of police or government asset as well.’

  ‘I told you, Boss, it was just a lucky hit, no finesse, she isn’t no pro,’ Jason said from behind her. She couldn’t believe what Quintel was suggesting.

  ‘Well, I’ll just have to take your word on that, won’t I?’ Quintel said as he looked towards Jason.

  ‘Honest, it’s like he said, I got lucky; whatever you think of me, I‘m just a nosy reporter, and I don’t know any of your business, honest.’

  ‘So who gave you my name if not, Dempster,’ Quintel said.

  Christine knew she had to be careful now, if she let Quintel suspect Dempster, he would be a dead man. She’d have to tell them something approaching the truth. ‘Ok, look I just heard your name mentioned as a suspect by one of the cops, that’s all. It wasn’t Dempster, but I think the cops suspect Dempster of helping big villains, and you are obviously a top operator, so it’s not such a stretch.’

  ‘That still doesn’t fully…,’ Quintel started to say, before his ringing phone stopped him. He took the call, as he wandered towards the rear door. He listened for a while, and then said, ‘So she could well know my name?’

  Pause.

  ‘Who is this Vinnie Palmer then…I see…ok,’ then he ended the call.

  Christine’s heart sank on hearing Quintel speak Vinnie’s name, but then calmed herself a little - it was obvious that his details were publically linked to the murder of Charlie and the fire, but who the hell was Quintel talking to? Was it Dempster? Was that little runt playing them all off against each other? She recalled Vinnie telling her how hard it could be sometimes running informants. “Like trying to train a cat” was how he’d explained it.

  Then Quintel’s phone rang again, he didn’t look too chuffed as he looked to see who was calling, he sighed and then took the call. He turned his back towards her again, and seemed to be more cautious than when taking the previous call, whatever that meant. Then she heard her name and fear stabbed at her once more. She listened as Quintel raised his voice slightly, before he ended the call. She wished she hadn’t.

  ‘Of course I will, I know it’s what you’re paying me for. I’ll do it now.’

  Christine started to struggle against her ties as Quintel headed towards her with purpose in his step. She was about to scream for all she was worth when gaffer tape arrived from behind across her mouth. That distraction stopped her from seeing what hit her, but a vicious side-swipe to her right temple sent her into darkness once more.

  *

  ‘Thank you Jason, I was getting tired of listening to her whiny voice.’

  ‘No problem, Boss. What did the man say?’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Both, I guess.’

  ‘Our friend reckons she’ll have got our name from this Palmer cop who is chasing us for doing that undercover rat.’

  ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘And they obviously know or suspect Dempster is on the payroll.’

  ‘Do you want me to have another word with him?’

  ‘No, Jason, I want you to kill the little shit, once we are all done here, but we have other business first, he’ll wait. As for our paymaster, he just rings to state the bleeding obvious.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘I’m done with her now. It’s time to complete the contract on her. Take her out the back into those woods and do her.’

  ‘It’ll be my pleasure, Boss.’

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Vinnie could see a shaft of light from under the roller shutter door as he approached. He stood very still and listened. He couldn’t hear anything, which told him nothing. Should he wait for Harry? Probably. Then he heard a noise, a scrapping of feet, there was definitely someone in there. He glanced down at the concrete ramp which led under the big door. It was dry but there was a small pool of water where the ramp and the gutter from the road met. He could see drying tyre marks where a motor had been driven inside, through a puddle. It was all adding up. He decided to recce the rest of the single-storey stand-alone building, at the very least, before Harry landed. He checked his phone for any silent messages, but there weren’t any. Where the hell was he?

  Vinnie slinked around the perimeter of the garage, grateful for the failing light and the fact that the building didn’t seem to have any windows. He stopped by the corner which led to the rear and peered around the edge. He immediately saw light shining out from the building towards a thicket of trees at the rear. The illumination was coming via an open rear door which was flat to the wall, probably a fire door. He was about to slide around the corner and creep towards the door when he heard a rustling sound coming from the woods. He froze and dropped down to a squat. Out of the gloom appeared a figure walking towards the rear door. It wasn’t until the figure neared the entrance before Vinnie was sure. It was Jason. He was covered in what looked like sand, and was brushing his arms as he walked straight inside the rear of the building.

  Vinnie hurried around the corner, worried Jason would close the door after him, but as he walked inside he just pulled it to and it clanged against its frame, but then re-opened an inch. When Vinnie reached the apparently closed door he saw that it was a fire door and that the lateral bar had dropped open wider than the door itself, which was why it hadn’t shut properly when Jason had pulled it closed behind him. He half expected Jason to realise and the door to suddenly open again only to close properly, but nothing happened. It was a piece of luck Vinnie couldn’t risk waiting to share with Harry.

  He slowly pulled the door open expecting light to flood outwards once more, but he found himself in relative darkness. Inside he could see an inner door six feet ahead which was closed. Light seeped from underneath it, from where he guessed was the main unit space. Then he heard a voice. One he recognised from listening to the dead undercover officer - Charlie’s - tapes from his meetings with Quintel and Jason. It was Quintel.

  ‘All done?’

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t want to risk using the gun so did it quietly?’ said a second voice from those tapes – Jason.

  ‘How do you mean? You’ve been quick,’ said Quintel.

  ‘We’ve got away with the sound of gunfire once, so I didn’t want to risk shooting her. She was well out of it when I buried her. She’ll not be waking up. Luckily there’s been some ground work done out there, looks like they are putting a sand base in to soak up the water. Loads of pre-dug trenches.’

  Vinnie’s heart nearly stopped. He quickly drew his handgun and opened the inner door and stepped inside to face a very surprised looking Quintel and Jason.

  ‘Who the fuck are you?’ Quintel said.

  Vinnie quickly glanced around before he spoke. No sign of Christine. There in front was the blue motor with the two Zs, and in front of that an orange plastic chair with rope laid across it. ‘Police, so don’t try anything stupid, and keep your hands where I can see the
m.’ But as he spoke, both men had already separated, each now at a forty-five degree angle to him. ‘Where’s the woman you kidnapped?’

  ‘I take it you must be Palmer?’ Quintel said.

  Vinnie was taken momentarily by surprise with Quintel using his name, but he kept moving his gun arm’s aim in an arc between both men.

  ‘Where is she?’ Vinnie said, as he focused on Quintel for a second, before aiming his gun at a stationary Jason.

  ‘You can go and join her if you like,’ Quintel said.

  And in the instant of distraction Quintel’s chilling remark caused, Vinnie heard a thunderous noise coming from Jason’s direction. He instinctively turned towards it and felt a jet of hot air race past his right ear, followed by the dull thud of something burying itself into the wooden inner door behind him.

  As he pulled the trigger of his own gun, he saw the gun in Jason’s hand as the recoil of his arm ended. Jason was in the process of taking aim once more.

  ‘You missed the fucker,’ he heard Quintel say as he kept his focus on his target this time. He saw the blue yellow flash of fire discharge from the mussel of his Glock as he also saw blood erupt from Jason’s chest. More flew from his back at the same time, and splattered over the bonnet of the Toyota.

  Vinnie felt as if time had nearly stopped, even though everything seemed to have happened at once. Focused in a tunnel of concentration, he watched as Jason fell backwards. His gun clattered onto the concrete floor before his body landed. He ran over to Jason but before he could feel for a pulse, he saw the lifeless glazed stare from his soulless eyes telling him all he needed to know. It was a look he was sure he would never forget. A quick feel at Jason’s left carotid artery confirmed he was dead.

  Then time caught up as blood started to pool from underneath Jason, and Vinnie swung around with his gun arm outstretched once more towards where Quintel had been standing. But no one was there.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The sound of the gunfire in the enclosed space of the garage was still ringing like tinnitus in both of Quintel’s ears as he ran through the woodland. Such a pity that he’d had to leave his gun in the boot of the car, not to mention the car itself. But he’d had to take his chances while that daft copper stared at his handiwork. He knew from what Jason had told him in the past just how inaccurate handguns were unless used really close up. There had probably been about twenty feet between them; the cop just got lucky; twice.

  He could see what Jason had meant earlier. Running through the foliage, he saw several trenches dug, some empty and some part-filled with sand, with large piles of building sand all about. It was no doubt to do with flood defences, water table levels or whatever to guard against all the rain they seemed to be suffering from since the globe got warmer. But looking on the bright side, but for this, Jason would probably have not got back before the cop had arrived. And as his gun was in the boot of the car, it could have been his claret and flesh plastered all over. Quintel liked to think of it as the survival of the fittest rather than chance, or good luck. The natural order of things. As useful as Jason was, and as good as his company also was, it was simply the way. Poor Jason, though it would mean more dosh for Quintel. His only regret was having had to leave that copper Palmer back there; he’d have loved to have had the opportunity to do him, just for the fun of it.

  It didn’t take too long before he was through the woods and down by a brook, which did look very full. He knew this place would be crawling with filth in a few minutes, and that also meant filth dogs, not to mention helicopters, no doubt. He couldn’t do too much about the pigs in the sky, other than to hope for some cloud cover, but he could frustrate the dog filth. He jumped into the brook and went in up to his waist. He’d clamber through it for as long as he could bear it. As far as he knew, water always ended scent trails. Then he felt spots of water falling on to his face, and smiled to himself, another stroke of the royal order of things; not luck. He made his own luck.

  *

  ‘Armed police. Drop your weapon and put your hands on the top of your head. Then kneel down. Do it now.’ The voice behind Vinnie demanded.

  It wasn’t the first time this had happened to him; he hoped it didn’t become a habit. Christ he didn’t have time for this. At least the cops’ arrival brought him back to the here and now. He did as he’d been told but added who he was and that his warrant card was in his inside jacket pocket.

  ‘That won’t be necessary officer, I can confirm what he’s saying,’ said Harry.

  Vinnie turned around, relieved to hear Harry’s voice, and saw that the three armed cops behind him were now lowering their weapons. He stood up, but before he could say anything, Harry continued.

  ‘When I said “locate an RV and wait”, which bit of that did you not get?’

  ‘I—’ was as far as Vinnie got.

  ‘You nearly got yourself killed, and now we have one dead suspect and the other one on his toes, thanks to your insubordination. I should suspend you right here and

  now,’ Harry finished.

  Vinnie could see how angry Harry was by the redness of his face. He half expected him to start rubbing his head next.

  ‘Boss, I’ll explain why later, but we haven’t got time for this now. You’ve got to help me search. It might already be too late,’ Vinnie said, and then explained how he had seen Jason returning from out back covered in sand, and the conversation he’d overheard him have with Quintel.

  ‘Come on then,’ Harry said, and Vinnie followed him out the back door as he told the uniform cops to secure the scene and to get others to start an area search.

  ‘What about the dog units?’ the cop who challenged Vinnie asked.

  ‘Preserve the immediate route from the back. And suggest when they arrive to get a scent from inside the car. Get a second dog to run a trail from the boot of the motor; just in case they had Christine, er I mean the kidnap victim in there. We are going to need all the help we can get.’

  ‘Got that, sir, they should be here any minute.’

  ‘Good,’ Harry said adding, ‘but no one else goes in there apart from the paramedic to confirm death.’

  Vinnie and Harry then took a circular route from the back door. Vinnie led and retraced the way he’d initially approached the rear of the unit from, until they were at the building’s edge, and then he ran towards the trees at the rear. In a couple of minutes the trees thinned out to a glade which ran towards a brook. A digger sat unattended by several piles of sand, tons of the stuff, and all around were a variety of long trenches. Some half filled with rocks, and others filled completely with sand level with the grass. They both came to a standstill and Vinnie looked around for recent signs of disturbance, but the whole place was a mess, and the rain which was now falling was just adding to it.

  There must have been twenty or thirty ditches, some short and some long. Where to start?

  ‘We are going to need some help here, it could take ages,’ Harry said.

  Before Vinnie could answer he heard someone approaching from behind. He turned to see a uniformed dog handler with an Alsatian on a mission. His hopes raised a little, but were tainted with the fear of what they might find. The dog and handler powered through the clearing and headed straight for the brook.

  ‘Picked up two scents from the car, Boss. Driver’s seat went straight to the deceased, and this is from the passenger seat,’ the dog handler said.

  Vinnie’s heart sank.

  ‘What about the car boot?’ Harry asked.

  ‘My mate’s got that but her dog’s only showing interest in the chair,’ the dog handler shouted over his shoulder as he raced towards the stream.

  Vinnie had a crushingly bad feeling about this now. He could see it in Harry’s eyes too. That bastard Jason must have carried Christine out of the unit. He knew now this was no longer a rescue mission, but a recovery one. He knew how much he liked Christine, and how his fondness had been deepening at a fast rate. But the thought that she was gone hit him far h
arder than he could have imagined. He was glad he’d disobeyed Harry now, even if it meant Quintel had escaped. They’d catch him eventually. He was just glad he’d had the chance to kill that bastard Jason. Any post-operative shock he’d first felt in the garage was long gone. Replaced with a primeval rush of morbid satisfaction.

  Harry broke his thoughts as he approached Vinnie and handed him one of two spades he’d found by the digger.

  ‘I know you two were good friends, so if you rather not…,’ Harry said.

  ‘It’s ok, Harry but thanks. I just want to find her, and grant her some dignity, and two sets of hands are better than one. We need every spare uniform going after Quintel.’

  ‘Looks like he’s jumped into the water, Boss,’ the dog handler shouted back from the banks of the brook. ‘I’ll track up and down both banks for a while, to try and pick up where he gets out.’

  Harry acknowledged him as they each started to dig at separate trenches.

  After only five minutes Vinnie was wet with sweat and his clothes on the outside were becoming damper as the light rain started to fall heavier.

  ‘Time to stop, Vinnie,’ Harry said as he glanced up at the sky, ‘we’ll cordon the whole place off and get a full search team in here first light to do it properly. If she is here, and remember, we still don’t know for sure, then I think we are well past the time where she could be still alive. He probably, you know; first anyway.’

  ‘I think we should turn a search team out now and get them to carry on with lighting, just in case.’

  Harry looked tired as he paused before nodding, and then said, ‘I suppose it’s still an if, Vinnie. I mean you didn’t hear Jason say he’d actually killed Christine?’