by A L Fraine
“Piss off, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Okay, fine. By the way, we’re following Jake. I don’t know what he’s up to, but whatever it is, you’ll be an accessory, serve time and lose custody of your children.”
“Alright! Alright, Jesus fucking Christ.” She sighed, the fight seeping out of her. “Jake’s friend told him. He spoke with someone who works at TooFro that knows Darryl. This guy said he saw Darryl with a kid at an abandoned petrol station.”
“So, a friend of a friend saw Darryl with a kid.”
“That’s right,” Sherryl replied, her tone defeated.
“Okay, so do these friends of yours have names?”
“I don’t know. They’re not my friends.”
Rachel frowned. “Of course they’re not.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sherryl spat.
“You know damn well what it means,” she replied as a couple more officers entered the property and took control of Sherryl. Rachel got up, pulled out her phone and called Nathan back. “Hey.”
“You sound out of breath,” Nathan replied.
“Just had a scrap with Sherryl. She lost.”
Nathan smirked. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll survive. I asked her how she knew about Darryl. She said Jake had a friend of a friend that worked at TooFro, who saw Darryl with a kid at an abandoned garage.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Rach.”
“No worries. I think I need a drink.”
“I owe you one.”
“You bloody well do.”
29
“What’s up?” Jon replied, walking over to Kate, where she stood back at the gate with the phone still to her ear.
“Dion thinks we have a place that fits. It’s a derelict garage not far from here. Just over those fields, over there.”
Squinting, Jon looked out from the shadows of the forest, over the farmland on the other side of the road. He could make out the distant movement of traffic and guessed that it was the A3 duel-carriageway on the far side of the closest field.
“He could have walked or run that,” Jon remarked.
Kate regarded the distance and terrain and nodded. “Yeah, he could. That’s not all. Jake’s headed that way too.”
Returning his gaze to Kate, Jon frowned. “Does he know?”
“It might be a coincidence,” Kate replied.
“Bullshit. He knows,” Jon muttered and then frowned in consternation. “How the fuck does he know?”
“Do we wait? A team’s on its way.”
“I don’t think we can,” Jon replied. “Nathan’s on his own, and if we’re right, he’s following Jake to where the killer is.”
Focusing on her call, Kate started to walk to the gate. “We’re making for the garage. Tell Nathan we’re on our way.” She hung up. “The plate was Remus’, so that was his car.”
“Of course it was.” Jon climbed into their car. As they finally began to pull away, distant sirens came into earshot, but they couldn’t wait. Within moments they were hurtling along the back roads again, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
“Which way?” Jon called out.
“Hang on, I’m looking,” Kate replied, tapping on her phone.
“I need to know. Junction coming up.”
“Go right,” Kate replied as she reached for the phone holder, only for Jon to throw the car around a corner. On the edge of his vision, he saw her flail for a moment until the car returned to the straight, and she managed to right herself.
“Christ,” Kate replied, and she quickly dropped her phone into the holder and secured it. “We’re certain, then, this is Darryl’s doing?”
Taking a deep breath as he focused his eyes on the road ahead, Jon nodded. “Looks that way. Yeah. For some reason—and God only knows why—he kidnapped his own son. He went to work, got a colleague to take his car and phone and take some fares. Meanwhile, he had a car nearby, kidnapped Milo, and then dumped the boy at this garage before meeting Remus back there.”
“So then he killed Remus,” Kate replied. It was a statement, not a question.
“Aye, I reckon so. He knew that Remus would know he’d kidnapped Milo the moment it was on the news. He was a liability, so he killed him and dumped him.”
“But he wasn’t dead, was he.”
“No,” Jon replied, thinking it through and placing Darryl’s actions in the timeline of events that were going on elsewhere. “He was in a rush,” he muttered, in a moment of realisation.
“Of course,” Kate said. “He needed to get home. I bet Emily had called him, maybe before he’d even got back to Remus, or when he was killing him. He knew he had to answer the phone and get home fast.”
“Aye. He was on the clock, so he dumped the body quickly, took the call, and raced back home, muddy clothes and all.”
“Emily said he was working today.”
“Or was he dealing with Sebby?” Jon replied, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Hmmm. So his motive is Jake, right? He hates Jake?”
Jon nodded. “Milo is Jake’s son, and so is Sebby, and they’re roughly in the same age range as his previous victims, thirteen years ago.”
“Yeah, but he’s lived with Emily all this time. Emily was one of his victims if this is the same guy. Why would he marry one of his victims?”
“I don’t know. Out of respect? Because she escaped? Maybe he’d just taken a shine to her. Take your pick.”
“So, if he respects her, maybe even admired her for beating him, maybe he hates Jake for… For what?”
“Desecrating her? Stealing her virginity? Getting her hooked on drugs?”
“Jesus. That’s messed up,” Kate replied.
“He’s a serial killer. His motives probably won’t make much sense to you or me.”
“No, I know. I just hope he’s not killed either of them.”
“Yeah, I know. But who knows what’s been going through his head. Neither of them is his son, so maybe he just doesn’t feel that kind of attachment.”
“So, if this is the same guy from thirteen years ago, he’s waited a long time.”
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it,” Jon agreed. “Have there been any killings between then and now? Anything we missed. Unsolved cases and stuff?”
“Talk about a double life.”
“Happens all the time,” Jon said. “There are so many cases of people who were married to a killer that had no idea what they were doing in their spare time.”
“I’ve seen it already. My first case with Nathan was a guy with a wife and daughter, killing people in some pretty messed up ways. They had no idea.”
“I remember you saying. These guys, and girls I suppose, they’re usually charming, friendly, charismatic. They just blend in, and you have no idea who they are. It’s what makes them so bloody scary.”
“Scary’s right,” Kate agreed.
“Okay, look, up there. On the left,” he said, spotting an old, abandoned petrol station surrounded by patchy fencing and boards by the side of the road. The slip road to the garage had several large concrete blocks on it, but there was still plenty of room to get by. In fact, as he got closer, he noticed one had been dragged to one side to make space. Markings on the ground made by the block as it had been pulled were still visible.
“There’s a car,” Kate exclaimed. “Look.”
“Where?” he replied, peering through the gaps in the makeshift wooden fence that hid most of the site. As they pulled in, Jon spotted the back end of a car inside the site. It had been parked up behind the main building, but part of it was still visible.
Driving carefully, Jon threaded the car through the gap in the blocks and then through a break in the fence. He pulled onto the forecourt and parked up. Stepping out, he only had a moment to take in the scene before tyres squealed behind him. He turned to see a car veer off the carriageway and onto the sliproad, going a little too fast.
“Watch out,” Kate yelled.
The car skidded as the driver aimed for the gap. Instinctually taking a step back, Jon hissed as the car got a little too close to one of the blocks and hit it. Metal and plastic exploded from the front wing as the car spun and hit the fence, knocking a panel over. It came to a stop just metres away from where Jon stood.
Seconds later, Nathan’s car followed. Taking the slip road at a more sedate pace, he slipped through the blocks with ease and pulled up to the stop.
“Jesus,” Kate gasped.
“Come on, it’s Jake,” Jon called out, recognising the driver. He looked a little dazed from the crash. As he rounded the car, Jake pushed the door open and staggered from the vehicle. He didn’t look too steady on his feet and nearly fell as he tried to make for the nearby building.
Blood was dripping over his face from blunt force trauma.
“Jake, give it up. You’re not going in there,” Jon announced as he got between him and the garage.
“Da fuck I’m not… Get outta my way,” he replied, spittle flying everywhere as he tried to move without falling headlong.
“No, you’re not Jake. I don’t want to force you, but if you don’t give this up, we’ll have no choice.” Nearby, Kate stood ready to his left, and Nathan on his right. Jake was surrounded, and he had nowhere to go.
“Fuckin’ move. Gonna kill that piece of shit,” Jake rambled and reached into the back of his trousers.
“No you don’t,” Jon shouted and lunged for him. Kate and Nathan helped, tackling him and putting him to the ground. Something metallic clattered to the concrete as they restrained and rolled him over. Jon focused on getting some cuffs on Jake as the other two held him down.
“No, stop, urgh, get off me,” Jake muttered and protested. “Let me go.”
Under normal circumstances, Jake would probably have been something of a handful, but in his disorientated state, he was no match for them, and within moments the familiar zzzzzick, sound of the cuffs locking into place, sounded loud and clear.
Jake gave up struggling, and lay still.
“Fuckers.”
“Charming,” Kate replied as she stepped back. “Shit, look. He had a knife.”
Jon looked up to see the sizable dagger on the floor a short distance away. “What were you gonna do with that, you idiot,” Jon asked.
“Nuthin’,” Jake replied. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.” Jon sighed.
“Let’s put him in mine,” Nathan suggested. Jon agreed and helped haul Jake to his feet and then guide him to the car.
“Why did you come here, Jake?” Jon asked as they walked him across the forecourt.
“He’s in there,” Jake said, looking back at the petrol station. “That bastard. He’s got my, son. He’s got, Sebby.”
“We know,” Jon replied.
“That’s probably the element of surprise gone,” Kate said.
“Aye,” Jon replied as they guided Jake in Nathan’s car. “Stay with him,” Jon suggested to Nathan and then turned to Jake. “We’ll be back to talk to you.”
“I’ll call it in,” Nathan said.
“Good, thanks,” Jon replied and turned to Kate. “Come on.” Jon strode over towards the garage with Kate close behind.
“We’re not waiting for backup then, I take it?”
“Hell no,” Jon replied, glancing at her. “Why, do you want to?”
“No,” she replied, incredulously.
The huge concrete slabs of the forecourt were surrounded by tall weeds that had grown around their edges and through the cracks they sported. A cross-hatch pattern of greenery, with the occasional yellow dandelion or white daisy, bloomed against all odds amidst this remnant of human civilisation.
Graffiti covered boards concealed the windows, while a grated metal door secured the main entrance, turning it into a small prison. The pristine black car parked alongside it looked distinctly out of place.
“Do you think he’s in there?” Kate asked, keeping her voice low.
Jon nodded, fished around inside his pocket and pulled out his penknife.
“Whoa, what’s that?”
“A useful tool,” Jon replied.
“For what, exactly?” Kate sounded guarded as Jon approached the corner of the building and the car. He looked back at her, and raised the knife, pulling the blade out.
It wasn’t a long one, maybe two inches at most, but Kate’s eyes bugged.
“For this,” Jon replied. Adjusting his grip, he swung the knife down and buried the blade in the car tyre, before yanking it out again.
Escaping air hissed as Jon moved to the other rear tyre, and repeated the action. Standing up, he closed the penknife and returned it to his pocket with a grin.
Kate let out a breath she’d been holding. “Christ, I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
Jon couldn’t stop the grin. “You didn’t seriously think I’d go in there waving it around, did you?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Come on,” Jon replied and marched around the building. “I doubt he’s using the front door.”
There was a side door up ahead that Jon pointed to. Kate nodded and pulled a baton from under her jacket, extending it with a flick. Nodding to her, Jon stepped up to the side door and kicked it. The door flew open with a bang, but no one came out and inside was silent.
“Police,” Jon shouted. “We’re coming in.” He didn’t wait, and moved inside, watching his peripherals for any hint of movement as he entered the first room.
There wasn’t much light inside, just a low glow from a lamp that caught the edges of a chair, sofa, table, and TV. The place stank. Jon could make out used food cartons scattered on the floor, and maggots crawling on leftovers that had turned furry.
“Hello?” Jon called out. “It’s the police. Come out and give yourself up.”
“Err, hello?” The voice was quiet, muffled, and unbroken. Jon guessed it belonged to a child.
“Hello? Who’s that?” Jon replied. “Where are you?”
“It’s Milo. I’m through here. I can’t get out.”
“That way,” Kate suggested.
Jon moved towards one of the doors. “Keep talking. Where are you?”
“I’m here, I’m in here,” the boy said and kept repeating it, allowing Jon to follow the voice through to another room with three doors. Milo was behind the second one. The door was secured by a simple bolt that wasn’t even locked in place.
“Are you there?” Jon called out.
“Yes, I’m here,” Milo replied.
“Okay, stand back,” Jon warned him before turning to Kate. “Watch our back.”
Kate nodded.
Carefully, Jon pulled the bolt across. Metal scraped against metal, and then the door swung free.
It opened with a low, steady squeal, revealing a room with a table, some cardboard on the floor, and an eight-year-old boy.
He stared at Jon, his eyes wide, waiting.
“Milo?” Jon asked, having poked his head into the room to make sure it was clear.
“Are you…?”
“We’re the police,” Jon said, smiling, keeping his voice calm and soft. Kneeling, he held out a hand. “We’re here to take you home.”
Slowly, a hesitant smile started to spread over Milo’s face as hope began to kindle in his eyes. Kate stepped up beside Jon.
“It’s okay, Milo. You can come out. We’ll take you to your mum, okay?”
“Um…have you seen…” Milo was looking past them, searching.
“No,” Jon replied.
Shrinking back, Milo looked scared. “He’ll be angry.”
“Then let’s get you out, shall we?” Jon urged. “Have you seen Sebby? He’s a boy around your age, with dark hair.”
“Yeah, um… he was here, but…”
“What happened?” Jon urged.
“He didn’t mean to,” Milo pleaded. “Sebby attacked him. He was just defending himself. He didn’t mean
to.”
That was an odd way to say it. It sounded like Milo was defending his kidnapper, which he guessed made sense if Milo knew who it was.
“Mean to, what?” Jon pressed, but Milo didn’t answer. Instead, his bottom lip began to wobble, and tears welled up. He blinked, sending them streaking down his cheeks.
Jon felt terrible for him. He’d seen a repulsive side of the world, and it was sure to leave a profound scar.
A roar sounded behind. Jon turned to see a man rush from the shadows wielding a cricket bat. He swung it at Kate.
“Kate!” Jon yelled.
She raised her arms as it hit her.
With a yelp, she dropped to the floor.
“Kate!” Jon shouted as the man raised his bat again.
Launching himself across the room, Jon tackled the shadowy man. He slammed into the wall and staggered away with a grunt.
Jon pulled his baton and extended it.
“No,” Milo yelled as Jon raised his weapon. The kid ran out and stood in front of the man. Light fell over his face, revealing Darryl.
“He’s my dad!” Milo pleaded.
“Milo, I’m sorry, but you have to move.”
“No! Don’t hurt him.” Darryl was moving around the room, his eyes fixed on Jon, and Milo stayed with him.
“He’s been a bad man,” Jon said.
“…I know…” Milo sniffed. Behind him, Darryl scowled at Jon, staring at him with wild eyes.
“You can’t escape,” Jon said, but Darryl only smiled in return. “Get out of the way, Milo.”
“I won’t let you hurt him,” the kid protested.
“I don’t want to hurt him. I just want to ask him some questions. If he puts the bat down and comes quietly, no one will get hurt. Do you hear that, Darryl? No one else needs to get hurt.”
“Dad?” Milo asked, looking up at his stepfather. Darryl looked down at Milo and then back up at Jon. He held Darryl's gaze, his face serious.
“It’s over,” Jon stated. “It’s done. You can’t escape this.”
“Wanna bet?”
“We know who you are now,” Jon replied.
“Took you long enough,” Darryl replied, the corner of his mouth curling as he spoke. “Is that failure Nathan out there?”
