Stone Fury: A Stone Cold Thriller (Stone Cold Thriller Series Book 2)

by J. D. Weston

  Harvey strolled back to the door and pushed it open.

  He stepped inside and pushed the button to call the lift. He heard one of the lift’s mechanisms clunk into life, the other remained dormant and in power save mode.

  He rode the lift to the third floor, stepped out of the elevator and found apartment 304. It was likely that 204 was directly below, with both floor plans being identical, so Harvey had a good indication of the layout of the building. The apartment was to the right of the fire escape at the end of the hall.

  A quick walk down the fire escape stairwell brought Harvey to the second floor, he opened the door a fraction and saw the front door of 204 at the end of the hallway. He half expected Donny to have the big guy sitting outside like a guard dog, but the hallway was apparently empty.

  He slipped out onto the soft carpet. The hallway was nicely decorated with ornate patterns in the mouldings and coving. The lights were modern and the carpet was thick and expensive. It was the type used in hotels that are designed to withstand heavy foot traffic but remain aesthetically pleasing.

  Harvey walked slowly and quietly along the hallway, the apartment door was fifty feet from the fire escape. Along the way, Harvey found service doors. A cupboard with cleaning implements had been left unlocked. Another door marked Telephony, was locked, and the last door marked Electricity was also locked. He reached the end of the hallway and stood in front of the door marked 204.

  He had several options, several plans, all of which were a risk. He ran through the scenarios in his head. Option one, set fire to the front door. The other residents might hear the alarm, leave and be safe, but Donny would burn. This was a drastic option and relinquished control to the ferocity of the fire. There were too many variables, plus collateral damage. Harvey preferred his victims to die deservedly where possible.

  Option two, set the fire alarm off. When Donny came running out, Harvey would slip into the apartment and wait for him to return. This option also had flaws. Nobody listened to fire alarms, they went off accidentally too often. Also, he had a greater risk of being seen by other residents.

  Option three. Ring the doorbell.

  Reg climbed back into the van, leaving the rear door open. Melody came around and checked his arm for breaks.

  “You’ll be fine,” she assured him. He winced as he pulled his sleeve back down and exaggerated his pain as he lifted his arm to the bench.

  "Let's have a sitrep, Reg. Take your mind off your arm. Where are the players?"

  He took the mouse and refreshed the screens.

  "Okay, according to LUCY, Cartwright is two miles away in Loughton."

  "That's his home, right?"

  "I believe so, LUCY shows regular prolonged visits and there's no indication of him having a partner."

  “Creasey?”

  "We don't have her number yet."

  "Stone?" she said hopefully.

  "One mile away in Hainault. Travelling fast."

  "That was quick, Denver, let's go."

  Denver started the van, Melody picked up Sneaky-Peeky and placed it inside the vehicle. She closed the rear door, walked around and climbed back into the front passenger seat.

  "Why are we tailing Harvey?" asked Denver.

  "Well, we know Cartwright is at home sleeping. My guess is that Harvey won't go near him with Bruno anywhere nearby, so Stone is probably on the tail of Creasey. He said he knew her whereabouts, he'll lead us straight to her."

  Denver put the van in gear and entered the chase.

  They drove in silence. Denver concentrated on the road, speed cameras and efficient driving. Reg guided him with infrequent updates on Harvey’s movements. Melody stared out of the window, deep in thought.

  She tried to empathise with Harvey. He was throwing away his ticket to freedom, but would she do the same? How must it feel to have chased somebody your entire life and be so close to finding them? Harvey had lost his parents at an early age and had never found out the truth behind their deaths. He had witnessed the rape of his sister and waited twenty years before finally learning it was his foster brother. His foster dad had known all along which made it worse. Just one of those things would have broken most people. But all of them together? What damage does that do to somebody?

  Melody had seen the remains of Sergio, the second man of the three had had gang-raped Hannah. Harvey had boiled him in an antique copper bath. She remembered the claw feet, and Sergio's clawed hands gripping the bath's rolled edge.

  Harvey was a stone cold killer, but she saw something else in him. She saw the good. He was turning. He had left Brayethwait for Melody to find. A crumb. If he was after Creasey would he leave her for the team too? It made sense. With Creasey out of the way, only Cartwright remained, which meant a far greater chance of getting him alone. But the team needed to plug the hole. They needed the source of the girls. Stopping Cartwright would only mean that the source would probably find a new conduit. It wouldn't be a solve, and subsequently, more girls would die.

  They’d been on the road for forty minutes when Melody snapped out of her thoughts. She focused on her surroundings and saw the One Canada Square tower out of the passenger window.

  "We're going to the Isle of Dogs?" she asked.

  "We’re just following Harvey," said Denver.

  "Actually, yes we're going to the Docklands. He's outside a club there. Marco’s, according to LUCY. You think Creasey is in there too? It'll be a hell of a place to have a showdown."

  "I don't think he'll take her out in a bar, too many eyes. He's observing. Planning. Have you seen him work?"

  "Harvey? Of course. He's a psychiatrist's dream."

  "It was part of his training. He told me once when we were sparring. Patience, planning, and execution.

  "You sparred with Harvey?" asked Reg incredulously.

  "Yeah, a few times. He's good. He's-"

  "A killer. He's a killer, Melody."

  "He's a good fighter. He lets you attack him and watches your every move. It's like he knows what you're going to do before you do. It's the most frustrating thing. He knows that. He lets you get frustrated and studies your strongest side and your weakest moves. Then out of nowhere, he pounces."

  "Like a wolf," said Reg.

  "Like a lion, Reg. Patience. Planning. Execution. That’s what he told me. His whole life is run by the same mantra. Every time we've sparred, he has thrown just one move and taken me down. I would have thrown dozens at him, all effortlessly blocked or avoided with almost no effort."

  "I hear admiration," said Denver.

  "Don't you?" asked Melody. "Admire him I mean?"

  "He gives me nightmares," said Reg from the back.

  "Denver?"

  "I admire his control."

  "There's more to him than that. We can turn him around, but we all have to want it."

  "Like I said, he gives me the willies," said Reg.

  "There's no need. Learn him. Get to know him. I bet if you knew him you'd never feel scared of anything ever again. With someone like him on your side, you wouldn't have to worry about much at all."

  "If you wasn't gay, Melody, I'd say you had a crush on him."

  “I can admire somebody without needing to bring sex into the subject, Reg.” She turned to him and smiled.

  “Who mentioned sex?”

  "Right, we're here, the club’s around the corner. What’s the plan?" asked Denver.

  "You two stay here, I'll go in alone." Melody pulled the visor down and began to apply lipstick. She dropped her hair from the elastic tie and let it fall into a cute, bouncy style that rested on her shoulders. She applied a little more makeup to her eyes and cheeks then turned to the two men and said, "How do I look?"

  "How did you do that?" asked Reg.

  Reg passed Melody an ear-piece from the back, which she fitted before hanging her hair over her ear.

  "I'm observing only, remember, but be ready for me."

  "Go get em kiddo," said Denver.

  She blew t
hem both a kiss, got out of the van and strutted away, hips swaying from side to side and hair bouncing gently with her stride.

  Reg and Denver looked on in disbelief.

  The club was laid out well, it was small, so Melody could view most of the seats from the upstairs area, where she feigned being stood up and leaned on the handrail alone, glancing from her watch to the doors. There was a small DJ stand on the far left of the club with a dance floor. A few girls were dancing, but most people were either sat or stood around the high tables.

  A long bar ran across the back wall, serviced by five staff. They were all between twenty to thirty years old by the looks of it, and most had some kind of piercing or tattoo proudly on show.

  Melody checked the dark areas in the corners of the club, and saw no sign of Harvey; only men in suits with loosened ties and shirts slightly untucked, and women with large handbags. They'd all come straight from work. Drinks were flowing, and the chat was thick. It was a weeknight, so the emphasis was more social than the weekend, which Melody assumed would be busier, more chaotic and with more people dancing.

  She casually looked around for Creasey but realised that the woman would be perfectly camouflaged in a place like this, with her expensive skirt suit and heels. Melody considered her own clothes and felt like she stood out like a sore thumb, being in tight black pants and a black t-shirt. She leaned back on the railing and peered down onto the dance floor and seating areas.

  Three men in suits stood at a high table talking to one woman in a blouse and skirt. The talk looked serious at first, and Melody focused on trying to read lips and judge the tone of the conversation. The men leaned in to hear the woman talk, then all nodded at once in agreement with what she said.

  "Haven't seen you before," a man said, leaning on the rail beside Melody.

  She groaned inside.

  "Haven't seen you either," Melody replied. She was watching the woman at the table below and carrying out a process of elimination. There were two women who in Melody's opinion could have been Creasey. The woman directly below her with the audience of men, and one that was sat by the bar alone with her back to Melody.

  "So, what brings you here? Do you work around here?"

  "Yeah, not far," Melody replied without looking up at the man.

  "Let me guess," the man stood back and eyed her, "you work in admin, for a local finance company."

  "Oh wow, you guessed." Melody hadn't even looked at the man yet, she continued to watch options one and two. Option two by the bar was busy on her phone.

  "Okay, let me go deeper, you're not HR, you don't look finance. Are you one of those cute girls that are into IT?"

  "No way, how did you do that?" said Melody flatly. She had decided to keep the guy talking to her, it made her look less obvious.

  “I wish our IT staff looked like you, I’d be reporting problems every day.”

  “Yeah, I bet you would.”

  “Are you one of those nerdy girls that watches shows about dragons and likes Lord of the Rings?”

  "Oh, I'm a huge dragons fan," she replied, "can't get enough of them."

  "I bet you watch it in bed on a Saturday morning while you eat breakfast? Let me guess wh-"

  "You want to get a drink?" asked Melody.

  The man was taken back, "Yeah, sure. I'll get them, what do you want?"

  "It's okay, I'll come with you, let's go to the bar and chat."

  They made their way down the long curved staircase and walked over to the bar. Melody led to make sure they ended up near option two. She pulled an empty stool out three down from the woman who had long brown hair, loosely curled, and matched the image she'd seen on Sneaky-Peeky. The guy sat next to her.

  "What can I get you to drink?" he asked.

  "Just a soda water for me."

  “Is that it? No wine or anything?”

  “No, not for me.”

  "Cheap date," he commented and called one of the bartenders. A girl with piercings in her nose and bottom lip came over. She had a single dreadlock in a bush of thick tangled hair and wore thick black mascara, making it look attractive.

  Melody glanced at the options again. Two women had joined option one, and the whole table was laughing and joking. One man had his hand on her hip and was rubbing affectionately. They hadn't just met, they were together. She ruled out option one.

  Option two still sat alone, she was messaging somebody on her phone, her eyes barely left the screen. It was only when somebody walked behind her that she pulled the screen to her chest so nobody could see what she was typing. Melody settled on option two but saw no sign of Harvey still.

  The drinks came, and the man beside her lifted his beer bottle to cheers Melody. She obliged with a chink of her water bottle.

  "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you seem a little distracted."

  "Do I?" she said. She was still watching option two.

  "Yeah. Shall I just go, leave you to it?"

  She turned and looked at him, perhaps for the first time, she couldn't remember. "No, stay, sorry. I thought I saw somebody I knew."

  The man seemed eased and leaned his elbow on the bar.

  "So, now that I have your attention, can I get your name?"

  "Sure, it's Kelly. And yours?"

  "Miles."

  "Miles? Nice to meet you."

  They shook hands and, like most men do when they shake a woman's hand, he gave a limp-wristed version of his usual handshake. Melody didn't expect a bone-crunching elbow jerk, but she liked a little effort put into a greeting.

  “So what is you do, Miles?”

  "Oh, I'm an underwriter for an insurance firm." He gestured his thumb over his shoulder, which Melody took to indicate he worked in one of the large towers in Canada Square.

  "Sounds interesting," she lied.

  "It pays the bills," he grinned.

  She looked passed Miles as a man joined option two at the bar and pulled up a stool. They shook hands formally; Melody noticed the firm but polite handshake. The man looked European, he wore a dark blue sports jacket with smart jeans and brown shoes. An inch of spotless cuff showed from the sleeve of his immaculate jacket, along with the glimmer of an expensive looking silver watch strap.

  The man called the bartender over and ordered two waters, then cast his eye around the club; he settled on Melody's eye and stared. Melody returned the stare with a smile and looked back to Miles. The look fed his ego, and he began to talk seriously with option two.

  Melody continued to observe the pair while she made small talk with Miles. She noticed that during the chat, neither of them smiled. Option two did most of the talking and used her hands to express herself. The man nodded, and his eyebrow raised every now and then. He asked a question, and she replied. He nodded. She sipped her drink. And then the cycle would begin again; question, reply, nod, eyebrow, drink. She was selling.

  A group of four people approached the bar, and Melody made a show of moving down to make room for them so they could sit together. She was one seat away from option two.

  Miles continued to tell an anecdote about a recent business trip, and Melody slipped the LUCY chip from her pocket and held it between her fingers. Option two's bag was open a fraction, hanging on the back of her stool, and she was distracted typing a message on her phone.

  Melody pretended to be listening to Miles and waited for the punchline of his story. She laughed out loud and turned sharply to pick her drink up, purposely knocking it over. The bottle rolled towards option two and the man, and she reached out to stop it. Option two pushed her chair back in time for the bottle to roll off the bar and hit the floor by her feet. Melody slipped the chip into the bag and picked up the bottle. "I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy. Did I get you wet?"

  "No, it's fine," she said dismissively and pulled her chair back to the bar. As Creasey leaned forwards off the stool, Melody caught a glimpse of her phone's screen. The woman straightened up and hit send, then had a curt glance around to see if anybody had seen the
message.

  Melody turned to Miles, "Okay, I guess that’s my cue to leave."

  “Already? Okay, well, I don't suppose-”

  “Sorry, Miles. You’ve been fun to talk to, but I have to go.”

  She began to walk away. He followed.

  “Hey, is that it? I don't even get your number?”

  “Well, how about this? If I come back to this club, and you see me in here again, you buy me another drink. I promise you’ll get more than just a number. You win.” She gave him her best dirty look. “But, if I don't come back, and you don’t see me. I win.”

  “Oh yeah? Tell me more about this prize.”

  “Well, when you get home tonight, why don't you use your imagination?” She walked off briskly.

  As soon as she had left the club she hit the button her ear-piece three times, “Reg, you there?”

  "Yep, how did it go?"

  "I slipped the chip into her bag, but there's no sign of Stone."

  "He's still in the car. Hasn't moved a muscle. We did a drive-by, her BMW is parked across the street from where you're walking right now, he must be inside."

  Melody glanced around at the empty street. "I'm going to take a quick look."

  "Be careful, Melody."

  She strode across the street and looked in the back seat and the boot, nobody.

  "He's not in there." She carried on walking.

  "Oh," said Reg.

  "What's up?"

  "We'll find out when the time is right. That's what Harvey said."

  "His watch."

  "That's what he was doing when he opened the car door at the farm," said Reg.

  "So where is he now?"

  "Harvey or Cartwright?"

  "My guess is that they're both back in Loughton," said Denver.

  "Pick me up, Creasey has a new client, they're heading to the farm now, and I think she messaged Cartwright, I want to be there before them."

  "Sit tight, we're thirty seconds away," said Denver.

  "Another client? It's a bit late for all that, isn't it?" said Reg, "It's one am."

  "Yeah, well, if Harvey is on Cartwright's tail, he'll be there too."