Vengeance

by Price, Roger A

  She frantically reached for the door once more.

  Chapter Forty

  By the time Vinnie had untied Lesley and removed the gaffer tape, the first of the cop cars arrived, followed by an ambulance which took a very shaken Lesley away. The local on-call DI was next to land and Vinnie quickly gave her the details of what happened and the background to it. He said he’d sort out a written statement later and send it to her but for now he was more worried about Christine. The local DI said the description of the vehicle including the part registered number had been circulated across the region. She said that an analyst would be playing around with the ZZ to try and identify all blue Toyota saloons which had a double zed in their number, but it would take time, and there might be quite a few nationally but hopefully only a few in the Manchester area. He just hoped it was a Toyota, he wasn’t 100 per cent sure, but didn’t say so.

  ‘Why take her?’ the local DI had asked. Vinnie only wished he knew.

  Then the local DI’s personal radio burst into life. CCTV at a nearby motorway junction had seen a blue Toyota with at least one Z in its number plate join the M6 north. The operator hadn’t been able to see anything other than one Z, but would review the tape shortly. M6 North; Preston? They now knew Jason hailed from the city, it was thirty to forty miles away from Manchester, and he’d have contacts there. Vinnie said his goodbyes as the local DI’s attention turned to preserving the crime scene, and he legged it to his Volvo.

  Ten minutes later, he was on the northbound carriageway which was fortunately quite light of traffic as the rush hour was long over. He floored the motor and kept the speedometer in three figures. He had no idea exactly where he was going, but it felt good to be doing something. He put his mobile into the car’s hands free Bluetooth device and called Harry, who was still at Preston having just finished his first meeting. He said he’d hang on there in case Vinnie needed any help. Preston is served by five motorway junctions and as Vinnie neared he was wondering which to take. Then he remembered Dempster, he wouldn’t bother ringing ahead and spooking him, he would have a face to face with him; he might have an idea where they’d take Christine, if nothing else. But none of this made any sense. Though at least one thing seemed obvious; if they’d meant to kill her they would have surely done it at Lesley’s, why go to the trouble of taking her with them otherwise?

  Vinnie aimed for junction 31A which was the Longridge turnoff that served numerous commercial estates in the vicinity. It was also the nearest to Ribbleton, where Dempster lived. Then he got a call from Harry.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘CCTV has sighted a possible; it’s a Blue Toyota with two Zs,’ Harry said before giving Vinnie the full registration number.

  ‘Seen leaving the M6 ten to fifteen minutes ago-ish at junction 31A.’

  ‘I’m just approaching there now.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ve also put a call into Major Crompton and he says according to Jason’s old military personal file he had a relative who ran a small motor garage on an industrial estate near to junction 31A.’

  Vinnie felt his mood soar on hearing this. Harry gave him the address and said he’d meet him there. He asked Vinnie to identify an RV nearby so they could have a stealthy look before sending in the boys and girls in blue.

  Vinnie agreed, although his heart was telling him just to get there and get inside with no delay, but his head agreed with Harry. A covert recce was needed until they knew what they were facing. He just hoped they were guessing right.

  Vinnie’s first stop was at a large controlled entrance to the estate. It had barriers across the road in and out, but they were both up. He quickly identified himself to a bored looking security guard, who did say that the last vehicle to enter the site had been a blue one with two blokes on board, but more than that he couldn’t say, but it had been about twenty minutes ago. He then gave Vinnie directions to the garage unit and five minutes later Vinnie pulled up short on a cul-de-sac which was off one of the main perimeter roads. It was poorly lit in the twilight, but Vinnie guessed it would perversely become easier to see as darkness fell properly and what lighting there was could take some effect.

  He pulled up by unit 41B which was set back from the road. He could see that there were several units on both sides of the narrow road leading to a free-standing brick built unit at the end, with a large steel up-and-over door. Behind it was a thicket of established trees. He texted Harry his RV who rang him straight back, and said he had uniform on stand-by at Junction 31A awaiting confirmation and instructions. He told Vinnie to sit tight as he was only a few minutes away.

  Vinnie ended the call and then turned the ringer off, before quietly alighting and walking towards the garage at the end, sticking to the shadows as he crept.

  Chapter Forty-One

  ‘I just hope for your sake that no nosy fucker heard that gunshot. Because if any security guard comes prying then their death will be down to you, bitch,’ Quintel said.

  Christine couldn’t believe how her fortunes could change so dramatically in an instant. Getting the better of Jason had been more about good luck and surprise, she knew, but seeing the door shoot out of her hands like that had been a shock. She’d frozen on hearing the gun and the hesitation had cost her dearly. She tried to make her herself comfortable, but gave up. Jason had tied her to the chair with vigour. He was clearly embarrassed. He kept pacing up and down across the front of the car as Quintel addressed her.

  ‘Tell me again about how you know Dempster, and don’t bull me or your other cheek will match the red one.’

  She repeated how she’d just been doing her job as a reporter, going on the knocker, and how someone had told her that Dempster was the local oracle. Christine had hardly finished her sentence when Quintel made good his threat with a stinging backhand across her face. It hurt like hell and would have knocked her onto the floor but for her restraints. She took a moment to recover the worst of the blow and then said, ‘You should take up tennis.’ She’d be dammed if she was just going to sit there and whimper in front of these bullies.

  ‘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 Dem
pster, 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 them.’ 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.