by Conrad Jones
Chapter Nineteen
Jackson Walker
Jackson didn’t believe that Dean was going to go through with the hit on Jinx. He wasn’t answering his mobile and Jackson had left four messages already that morning. Dean had the gun they had used before, so he decided to use a different one and claim all the hit money for himself. Leon didn’t care who pulled the trigger, as long as it was pulled. All he had to do was clarify that he would get the entire forty grand if he killed Jinx. Jackson picked up a steel coloured Smith and Wesson and wiped it clean with a soft yellow duster. He clicked out the cylinder and pushed six bullets into it. He cleaned the trigger guard to remove any partial prints and then wrapped the gun in the duster. Jinx wouldn’t know what had hit him. He was often alone, especially when he walked to the gym he owned. It was all part of his workout. Jackson chuckled to himself. Walking to the gym was going to be very bad for his health this time. Jackson would have to be very careful that there were no witnesses. If anyone realised he was responsible for murdering Jinx, he wouldn’t see the week out. That was the only downside to the hit. Jackson didn’t care that Jinx helped people in the community that he lived in. He was wasting his time and his money as far as Jackson was concerned. The losers, drug addicts and prostitutes who lived in his community were beyond help. Jackson wanted the money and all he had to do was pull the trigger.
He put the gun onto a glass coffee table, next to a half-drunk can of cider. He picked up the can and drained the contents in one gulp. The cider was warm and flat.
“That’s shit, man,” he complained to himself. “Get yourself a fresh one, Jackson. This time tomorrow you can fill the fridge with that shit.” He chuckled as he thought about his payday. Forty grand would make a huge difference to his life. New duds, new motor, a few foxy ladies. It was all within his grasp. He stood and crossed a beige carpet to the kitchenette. His bedsit was tiny and the kitchen was crammed into one corner of the living room. The sink was piled high with pots that needed washing. He opened the fridge and grabbed the last can of cider from an empty shelf. The shelf above held an open tin of baked beans and a discoloured pork sausage. Jackson wasn’t broke, he was lazy. Food came ready prepared in his world. He opened the ring-pull and gulped the bubbly cider down as he pressed the play button on his stereo. Bob Marley began to sing ‘Exodus’ backed by the Wailers.
Jackson walked to the window and looked out over the city. He lived on the edge of Toxteth near the river. The giant Anglican cathedral filled his view. The river flowed into the Irish Sea behind it. There was a paperboy delivering to the flats across the road. Jackson recognised him as the son of a friend. He should be in school today, and Jackson made a mental note to tell his father the next time he saw him. The mountain bike he was riding looked expensive. It was way out of his father’s league, probably stolen. Jackson sipped his cider and contemplated life. One member of the community would die today, and he would profit from his death. A large shipment of crystal meth would land tonight, and with it would come misery and desperation for the community’s addicts. Jackson would profit from that too. Jinx tried to help this community and Jackson was going to murder him. Jackson didn’t think it was right somehow, but that was life on the streets.
Bob Marley was singing about the movement of ‘Jah people’, when the front door splintered in half. Jackson turned to see the door disintegrate beneath repeated blows from a sledgehammer.
Chapter Twenty
Carl Lewis: The Past
Gecko drove north on the M6 for an hour until he reached the Carnforth turnoff. The roads were narrow and lined with hawthorn hedges obscuring the view of oncoming traffic. He slowed the vehicle down using low gears until he reached the track that led to the quarry. When he stopped, Carl had come around. The boy was so frightened he had soiled his jeans. The rear seats were pulled down so that Gecko could speak to him despite him being in the boot. He leaned over and removed the gaffer tape from his mouth.
“Did you give ecstasy to Nate?” He asked in a calm voice.
“I don’t know who gave it to him, Mr Bradley,” Carl lied. Tears ran down his cheeks and he was shivering.
“Your friends told me that you gave Nate the tablet.” Gecko took a carpet blade from the glove box and showed it to the whimpering boy. “Don’t lie to me please.”
“I didn’t mean to kill him, Mr. Bradley, please don’t hurt me.”
“So you did give Nate the ecstasy tablet?”
“Yes, but I’ve had them loads of times, honest,” Carl cried. “I’ve never had any problems with them, Mr. Bradley. It was just an accident.”
“Just an accident?” Gecko raised his eyebrows as he repeated the word. Accident.
“You know what I mean, Mr. Bradley. Please don’t tell the police or my mum.” Carl thought this was all about finding out where the rogue tablet had come from. His parents had questioned him repeatedly about Nate’s death and Carl had sworn blind that he had never taken drugs. The police had questioned everyone who had been at the funeral, but none of his friends had grassed. Carl was crippled with guilt about his friend’s death, and he knew what it would do to his parents if they were to find out that he had supplied Nate with the tablet that had killed him. They were active members of the school fundraising board. Their friends included many of his friend’s parents and their families. The news of Nate’s death had shattered the community. Parents and teachers had rallied around trying to react to the issue of drugs. Sniffer dogs had been brought into the school the week after the funeral and letters had been sent to every parent, explaining that the school was adopting a zero tolerance policy to drugs. Nate was terrified that his parents would find out about his part in Nate’s death and that he would be expelled from school.
“Please don’t tell anyone, Mr. Bradley,” Carl sobbed. “I am so sorry about Nate, he was my friend.”
“I asked the police where Nate got the tablet from and they spoke to you didn’t they?” Gecko said.
“Yes,” Nate replied. He blinked and tears rolled down his face.
“What did you tell them, Carl?” Gecko shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
“When the police questioned you, what did you tell them?” Gecko repeated.
“I was scared,” Carl cried. “I didn’t know what to say to them.”
“So what did you tell them?”
“I was scared, Mr. Bradley.”
“Answer the question,” Gecko raised his voice slightly. He was used to interrogation subjects stalling a question when they didn’t want to reveal the answer because they knew it would incriminate them.
“I told them I didn’t know where he got the tablet.”
“Okay, Carl,” Gecko lowered his voice again. “You gave my son the tablet that killed him.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I really am,” Carl started blubbering.
“Shut up and listen to me.” Gecko slapped him hard across the face. The boy was shocked into silence. “You gave Nate the tablet which killed him and then you lied to the police about where the tablet had come from?”
“Yes,” Carl whimpered.
“So because you lied to the police, someone else could be burying their child this week, or next week?”
“I was scared of getting into trouble, Mr. Bradley.” Carl drew breath sharply. “I just didn’t think properly.”
“You say you are sorry about killing Nate, yet you have done nothing about it, Carl. I don’t think you are sorry at all.”
“I am sorry, honestly,” Carl tried to stop his voice breaking. He wanted to sound sincere.
“Okay, where did you get the tablets from?” Gecko asked and smiled as he spoke.
“What?” Carl seemed confused.
“Where did you buy the drugs from, Carl?”
“I can’t tell you that, Mr. Bradley. I can’t grass. No one will talk to me again.” Carl was scared of the people Grebby bought his drugs from. They were older and he knew Grebby’s mother was involved somewhere in the mix.
One of the boys at college had been given a good hiding for telling his father where he had bought the cannabis found in his room. The kid had looked like he had been in a car crash when he had come back to school. Carl was genuinely sorry about Nate, but he didn’t want to wind up in the hospital. Mr. Bradley was trying to frighten him and it was working, but he was more frightened of the dealers. At least, that was what he thought.
“No one will talk to Nate again, ever.” Gecko opened the door and climbed out. He walked around to the boot and opened it. “Where did you buy the drugs, Carl?”
Gecko wanted to know where he had bought the ecstasy tablet that had killed his son. Carl was mumbling and stuttering but he would not give up his supplier immediately. Nate picked him out of the boot and carried him over his shoulder into the woods.
“Please, Mr. Bradley, where are you taking me?” Carl blubbered. “There are kids at the school who bought more drugs in a week than I did in a month, honestly.”
“Shut up, Carl.” Gecko trudged through the undergrowth scratching their arms and legs on the low branches that clawed at them. “I want the name of your dealer.”
“They are older than me, they’ll kill me, and no one will talk to me,” Carl repeated his excuses. He had no idea how much danger he was in. “If I tell you, everyone will know that I grassed.”
The night closed around them as they entered the woods. Carl felt his breath being forced out of him with every step. Mr. Bradley’s shoulder bone was pressing into his diaphragm and he couldn’t catch his breath. He couldn’t think properly and he desperately tried to come up with the words that would end his torment. His eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly but there was nothing to see. There were no houses nearby and no passing traffic. The chances of help coming were zero. It was just him, Mr Bradley and the darkness. He had no idea what Mr. Bradley had in mind. Where could he possibly be taking him and why? Was he going to hurt him? His mind raced through the different possibilities, but still he couldn’t come up with an answer. Mr. Bradley was upset, obviously. His wife had died and then his son had died a few weeks later. He was bound to be upset but what was he doing?
“Mr. Bradley, where are you taking me?” Carl gasped and tried to catch his breath. There was no reply from his captor, just the sound of kindle breaking beneath his boots as he walked. The canopy of branches thinned out and they entered a clearing in the trees. There were large blocks of sandstone spotted around the clearing. They looked like dark blobs with darker patches on them where they were covered in moss. Gecko weaved between them until they reached the edge of the quarry. He had scuba-dived there a few times when he was in the army. It was deep, too deep to reach the bottom without technical diving equipment and much too deep for visibility at the bottom. The water looked black as oil and it rarely reached double figures on the Celsius scale. Carl looked past the sandstone blocks into the water below, blinking his eyes to focus on the blackness. The water looked like a mirror of black glass reflecting the darkness around it.
“Mr. Bradley, what are you going to do?” Carl was suddenly very frightened. Why would Mr. Bradley risk going to jail for kidnap and assault? How did he think he could get away with this?
“I want to know where you bought the drugs that killed my son.” He dumped the boy on the damp woodland floor knocking the wind out of him. Carl groaned and turned on his side in a foetal position and gasped for air. “Who did you buy the drugs from?”
“I’m going to call the police when I get home, Mr. Bradley,” Carl sobbed. “You can’t do this to me.”
Gecko sighed and knelt down next the boy. He ripped a strip of tape off and covered his mouth with it to keep him quiet while returned to the car for a length of chain. He took his time coming back to give Carl a chance to think about his question. Carl was tied up and terrified and seconds felt like hours under those conditions. Nate Bradley senior was an expert at forcing other human beings to feel terrified. Allowing the subject plenty of time for their imagination to run wild was sometimes enough to loosen their tongues. The thought of being hurt or killed was often more frightening than the actual physical act.
Carl lay on his back and tried to slow his breathing down. He had to gather himself and make Mr. Bradley see sense. Nate had been unlucky and Carl was sorry he had died, sorry, but it had not been his fault. He looked around and the sandstone blocks seemed to loom up at him from the night. He counted them silently in his mind. There were six blocks in a line. They stood like mute sentinels at the edge of the quarry. To his left were the edge and a sheer drop into the icy water. Something flickered in the night sky above him. It darted left and right and then disappeared into the trees. Then another small shape followed its erratic flight path. Carl watched and listened. The bats continued to come and go from the woods while he waited to see what Mr. Bradley had in mind. He heard breaking twigs and rustling leaves and he held his breath as his captor emerged from the darkness.
Gecko walked to the edge of the quarry and looked over the still water. He peered into the inky depths for what seemed like ages before turning back to Carl. He dropped the chain on the ground with a clunk and stood over the boy.
“Where did you get the drugs, Carl?” Gecko kneeled down next to him and looked into his eyes. “Are you going to tell me?”
Carl shook his head and sobs wracked his body. Snot ran from his nose, over the tape and down his chin. Gecko took the carpet blade and sliced the boy’s shirt off. Carl tried to scream and his eyes bulged from his head as the blade cut the material with ease.
“Who did you buy the drugs off?” Gecko put his fingers under the waistband of the boy’s trousers and pulled them away from his body. He sliced the material from the belt to the knee on the left leg and then repeated the process on the right. Carl was frantic as he was stripped naked. His face was flushed and he was hysterical. It had dawned on him that Nate’s father was not quite right in the head. His concern to protect his dealer was withering. Mr. Bradley was bang out of order and Carl was adamant that he was going to tell his parents and the police even if it meant his part in Nate’s death was revealed. This was weird. Carl wondered if Mr. Bradley was a paedophile. ‘What’s he going to do, bugger me in the woods?’ Carl thought.
“Last chance, Carl.” Gecko removed the tape. “If you scream, I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”
Carl stopped wriggling immediately. He held his breath, frozen with fear. No threats had been made yet, but when one came, it was a bombshell. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Carl gasped and then despite the threat, he tried to scream.
Gecko fastened the tape back over his mouth, picked up the length of chain and lifted the boy as he slid it beneath him. Carl began to panic. The boy wriggled, kicked and screamed as he wrapped the chain around his body and secured it with wire. The metal links were rough and ice cold. They grazed his skin and as the wire was pulled tight, he could feel it cutting into his limbs. Carl’s eyes were wide and pleading when Gecko placed another length of wire around his body. He pushed the boy closer to the edge so that he could see the black water thirty-feet below him. He took the tape off his mouth and tears rolled down the boy’s face. They had no impact on Nate. He was numb to the fear and pain of those he interrogated. He had a job to do and he was the best. This boy had murdered his son and he was the judge and jury.
“You killed my son, Carl,” Nate said calmly. “I want to know who your dealer is. If you tell me, I will forgive you for his death.”
Fear had completely overtaken his sense of loyalty and being beaten up by Grebby’s suppliers now appeared to be the better option for Carl. “A guy in the year above us called Grebby,” Carl gasped. “His name is Paul Grebe but everyone calls him Grebby.”
“Okay, and who does he get his drugs from?” Gecko carried on threading the wire through the chain as he spoke.
“I think it’s a guy on the estate called Benny something, but I’m not sure. I really do not know. I just buy a bit of weed and a few pi
lls sometimes. Please don’t hurt me,” Carl was about to say he was sorry when Nate stuck the tape back over his mouth. Carl began to writhe and kick out his legs but the chain held him tightly. He didn’t understand what was going on. He had told Mr. Bradley what he wanted to know but he wasn’t letting him go.
“I forgive you for killing Nate, take my forgiveness with you into the darkness,” Gecko said coolly as he grabbed the boy and edged him toward the drop. Carl had murdered his son. His sentence was death. The boy wriggled like a racing snake as he fell thirty-feet into the black water filling the quarry. His mother’s face flashed through his mind as he hurtled toward the water. She was crying. He knew he wouldn’t see her again in this world. Carl hit the water face first and it felt like he had slammed into a brick wall. The impact stunned him, the coldness forced him to breathe through his nose, and the water flooded into his lungs. He disappeared into the depths in seconds. Gecko had dealt with the direct supplier of the tablet, which had killed his son, and acquired the name of the next target. The first part of the mission was completed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alec/Jessie
Alec felt the wind in his hair as he walked from a sandwich shop called ‘The Filling Station’. It was clean and the food was always fresh. He had invested in a chicken, bacon and mayo sub with jalapeno chillies chilies and extra chilli chili sauce. His stomach was rumbling; he wasn’t sure if it was hunger or stress causing the gurgling. The Parker murder was as complicated as a case could be, but it was the thought of his wife packing her bags, which left him feeling sick inside. He knew the next forty-eight hours would be crucial to cracking the case and the opportunities to eat would be few, and far between. The spicy sub would supply him with some sustenance to keep him going. Once the case was under control, he would go and talk to Gail and sort things out. He needed to push her up his list of priorities. She was correct though. There would be another Louise Parker, another big case. There always was another case. Maybe she was better off away from him where she could have the life she deserved with a man who could give her the attention she deserved. Maybe not. He was debating the why and wherefore of his marriage when his Blackberry buzzed. The screen displayed Will’s number calling.
