Never Forgotten (Manor Park Thrillers Book 2)

by G H Mockford

  ‘I’m not sure I believe you,’ Felix said. He paused, and then in a raised voice, he called, ‘My pistol’s aimed at his head, bitch. I know you’re here somewhere. There’s nowhere you could’ve gone. Come on out, or I will kill him.’

  ‘She went through that room,’ Stephen said, pointing to the door that went to the old music room. ‘By now she’s long gone. You wasted valuable time talking to me. ‘

  ‘We’ll see,’ Felix said, and he began to walk down the stairs, pistol and phone swaying from Stephen to the door and back to Stephen.

  There was a splintering crack. The step he’d already weakened had given way beneath Felix. Forced to grab the banister, he dropped his phone rather than the pistol.

  And that was when Stephen made his move.

  He kicked the lantern as hard as he could and the bulb went out as it rattled off across the floor, plunging them all into darkness.

  Stephen ran.

  A shot rang out and the room filled with a brief flash of light.

  Stephen dived to the left. His body slid across the smooth parquet tiles that covered the floor. He came to a halt, held his breath and listened for Felix. All he could hear was blood rushing in his ears. His only hope was that the explosions from the rounds had also deadened his hunter’s hearing too.

  And that Georgia kept out of the way.

  They had reached a stalemate. No one had an advantage as far as vision was concerned.

  Another loud crunch came from the staircase.

  Assuming Felix was trying to free himself and would be unable to defend himself, Stephen ran into the darkness towards the sound.

  The gun fired.

  Stephen curled himself up, stumbled and fell to the floor. He’d just enough time to use the light from the controlled explosion to see the bottom of the stairs.

  He froze. The only thought in Stephen’s mind was how many rounds Felix had left.

  If Bryonny was right he had two left.

  ‘Shit!’ Felix cursed from above and grunted.

  Stephen felt sure that if the killer was trapped, he was now free or would be shortly. He moved, careful to be as quiet as possible, towards the wall under the stairs. He felt it touch his shoulder, and he flattened his body against it.

  By Stephen’s reckoning, he must be right under the madman now. He focussed on what he could hear. Was that the sound of Felix’s breathing?

  Another round went off right in front of Stephen’s face. For a brief moment, he saw Felix’s hand thrust between the spindles of the banister as he fired blind.

  Stephen made his move. The gun was exhausted. With reflexes honed by years of dodging dangerous car drivers and potholes, Stephen’s hands snapped out into the darkness.

  And found what he was looking for.

  His fingers wrapped around Felix’s forearm.

  Another round was discharged.

  Felix must have reloaded, Stephen realized, but it was too late now. Risking it all, Stephen slid his hand down Felix’s arm until it went over his hand. He twisted with all the power he could muster. Felix cried out in pain and the weapon clattered to the floor, disappearing into the darkness.

  Stephen didn’t stop. He turned, braced a leg against the wall below the spindles and pulled on the arm. There was a sharp crack of wood, and Stephen fell back. The weight of Felix’s body fell on top of him a moment later and knocked him to the floor. Air rushed from his lungs.

  ‘You bastard!’ Felix called, his voice loud and fuelled by fury as he rolled away into the darkness.

  Stephen kept quiet, searching the darkness for a sign, any sign as to where Felix was.

  ‘I’ll fucking rape you all.’

  Stephen dived towards Felix’s curse. He hit something solid. They fell to the floor. The pair scrambled in the dark, trying to get a solid hold of each other. Stephen felt an excruciating pain as, either by luck or judgement, Felix drove his knee into his testicles. He roared out his pain.

  Felix let go of Stephen, and he fell to the floor.

  A moment later a torch snapped on and turned towards Stephen, catching him full in the face. He threw his hand up and waited for death to come.

  Felix had won.

  The light moved and dazzled Felix, who was on his hands and knees searching for his gun.

  ‘Get away from him, you bastard,’ Bryonny screamed.

  Through the unsteady torch beam, Stephen saw her lash out with her baton. There was a solid clunk. Stephen watched through the twitching, erratic light as Bryonny lashed out at Felix again and again and again until he lay on the floor, quiet and still.

  ‘Stop, Bryonny that’s enough,’ Stephen called.

  Bryonny slowed down and then followed the command. Her breath ragged despite the short amount of time she’d been attacking him. ‘That’s why they wouldn’t let me join the armed response team. He was right upstairs. I am angry.’

  Bryonny laughed and dropped the weapon.

  Seventy-Eight

  Stephen was too pumped up on adrenaline and nervous energy to sit on the steps as they waited for help to arrive.

  Felix was handcuffed to what remained of the balustrade. With the three pairs of eyes looking at him and the beam from Bryonny’s torch, the killer was unable to make a break for it. Bryonny had found the automatic pistol and secured it.

  Georgia was still in the corner by what turned out to be a grandfather clock. Bryonny sat with her for a while and draped her leather jacket around the teenager’s shoulders. She was cold and probably in shock.

  Stephen lifted the metal bar from across the front door and was surprised to find it was unlocked. He needed some fresh air. The house stank and his mind was full of terrible images of Felicity. He’d thought about going back up to look and say goodbye, but somehow sensing his intentions, Bryonny had convinced him to stay down here.

  Ten years. Ten years and he’d been just hours too late.

  He stepped outside, enjoying the sense of space and freedom. Through the trees, Stephen saw flashing blue lights. ‘They’re coming,’ he said over his shoulder.

  ‘Just stick to the story and we’ll be all right. All right?’ Bryonny said.

  Stephen nodded. As soon as Felix had been secured, Stephen had suggested they leave the house, but transporting their prisoner would have been problematic. For reasons that were her own, Georgia wanted to remain in the house too. Stephen thought it strange. If anybody would want to leave, surely it should be her. The horrors she must have seen. The feelings of fear and helplessness she must have felt. He wasn’t sure he could, or even if he wanted to, imagine it.

  Stephen stood in the open doors and watched the blue lights pull up at the end of the barricaded drive. A few moments later a sea of bobbing and swaying torch beams raced along the zigzag path towards them. As the sound of crunching gravel got louder, Stephen went inside and sat next to Georgia.

  First through the door were two officers in body armour, a yellow Taser in their hands, and a man in a suit.

  Bryonny leapt to her feet and ran to her non-uniformed colleague. They embraced. The two armed police continued inside and surrounded Felix.

  Stephen put a reassuring hand on Georgia’s shoulder and stayed close. More police officers arrived. A woman with a foil blanket walked up to Georgia and wrapped it around her.

  ‘Let’s get Georgia out of here,’ Bryonny said, breaking off her embrace with the other detective.

  Stephen felt like an observer, a spare part, as he watched the three police officers move towards the front door. Through the opening, Stephen saw two more people approach. One was DS Rees. The other was Hamilton.

  Chambers was almost out the door with Georgia when Hamilton stopped her. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I think Georgia’s been here long enough, Sir, don’t you?’ Bryonny said, walking straight past her superior. Rees stepped back out the way, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as Hamilton turned to look at him.

  ‘Aren’t you going to stop her, Sergeant
?’

  ‘I think it’s important the young lady gets away from the scene too, don’t you?’

  Hamilton harrumphed. ‘Stokes, get the uniforms to seal the site. Rees,’ Hamilton said pointing at Felix, ‘get him out of here.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Rees rumbled.

  Stephen watched as everyone went about their business, and for a moment thought everyone had forgotten about him. Then Hamilton came closer.

  ‘Come on then. Let’s hear it,’ he said.

  Seventy-Nine

  SUNDAY 1:30 p.m.

  Stephen put his knife and fork down and declared himself officially stuffed.

  He’d been at his father’s since eleven o’clock, and he was just beginning to feel comfortable with his surroundings. Or maybe it was just the wine Donna insisted he drank.

  Along with Georgia, the three of them sat around the large, oak dining table, the remains of the Sunday roast in the myriad of dishes on the table. The domesticity felt strange to Stephen, especially in such affluent surroundings.

  After he and Georgia had been removed from the crime scene, they had been interviewed for hours though she was taken to hospital first. Stephen had stuck to the story he and Bryonny had cooked up while waiting for Hamilton and Rees to arrive.

  They’d gone out for a ride and taken the winding country lanes for the thrills of cutting corners. They came across the house and saw lights inside. Chambers felt it was her duty to investigate as the house was clearly meant to be empty. She, or rather Stephen, had rung for backup – Rees could corroborate this – then what happened, happened. Simple and impossible to prove either way, even if Hamilton was deeply suspicious.

  Now, days later and relaxed within the safety of family, Stephen sat and listened as Donna, Fraser, and Georgia tried to go about their lives as if nothing had happened. Georgia had been receiving counselling after her ordeal. Stephen was offered it too, but declined.

  It was odd sitting at the table — somewhat strained as if everyone was trying to make an effort. Georgia had run away for a reason, and Stephen assumed the reason, or reasons, were still there lurking under the veneer of middle-class behaviour.

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Georgia, be a sweetheart and answer the door will you,’ Donna said.

  Stephen watched as his half-sister froze. Clearly there were after-effects, even if they weren’t easy to spot.

  ‘It’s all right, love. It’s just a surprise – a special guest – to show you that we’re trying to change,’ Fraser said. ‘Isn’t that right, Donna?’

  Stephen watched as Georgia left the table. The three adults sat in silence for a few moments, the awkwardness growing.

  ‘Let me remove the pots for you,’ Stephen said, as he took Georgia’s half-eaten plate of food and placed it on top of his.

  ‘You don’t need to do that,’ Donna said, but Stephen stood up and collected the others. No other protests came.

  Wary of dripping gravy over Donna’s expensive carpet, Stephen took the plates through the archway and into the adjoining kitchen. Once he placed the load on the worktop, he slipped off to the downstairs loo.

  Locking the door behind him, Stephen put the toilet seat down and sat on it. He felt less trapped in this tiny room than in the palatial dining room. He wanted to make his excuses and leave, but knew it would be rude.

  There was always the classic phone call and text combo.

  The sounds of another voice made their way through the house, but it was too muffled to make out. Now someone else had been added to the awkward environment. Someone who would show Georgia that her parents were trying to change.

  Stephen left the tiny room and decided it would be polite to meet the ‘special guest’, and then make his excuses. Fraser and Donna wouldn’t want to make a fuss, after all.

  The dining room was empty when Stephen returned, but the twin glazed doors to the drawing room were open and Stephen could see they were all sitting in there. Fraser and Donna sat at the opposite side of the room on a leather sofa in the bay window. Georgia was laughing and bouncing excitedly on a matching piece of furniture with her back to him. Perhaps her parents plan would work. Beside his half-sister sat the ‘special guest’.

  ‘Stephen,’ Georgia said noticing he’d re-joined them, ‘let me introduce you to Annalise.’ Georgia jumped up, full of energy, took her friend’s hand and pulled her off the sofa.

  ‘Pleased to meet ya,’ the American said without turning to look at him.

  So this was the mysterious woman who he’d been looking for at the cinema that day. The woman who had convinced Georgia to run away and explore the world. The woman who Donna and Fraser hated. And now she was sat in Donna’s home. That was a change.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Annalise said. ‘I didn’t realize you had other company.’

  ‘It’s not a problem,’ Donna replied. ‘You’re a little early, but you were invited.’

  ‘No, no,’ the American said, getting up and glancing back at Stephen. ‘I must get going.’

  Stephen watched Annalise. Her cheeks were flustered, and sweat was beading on her forehead. Stephen studied her more carefully. There was something wrong. There was something familiar about the nose.

  And why was she avoiding looking at him?

  Stephen’s legs buckled under him and he stumbled back into the dining table making the remaining pots on the table ring out as they collided with each other.

  ‘Are you all right, Stephen?’ his father asked.

  ‘Dad, don’t you see it?’ Stephen smiled. His heart was overjoyed. ‘It’s Felicity, Dad. She’s alive. Felix lied. It was another of his games. Felicity isn’t dead. She’s alive.’

  Eighty

  ‘What?’ Fraser said.

  ‘It is you, isn’t it?’ Stephen asked as he got back to his feet, his initial shock replaced with something far happier and comforting.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered and turned to look at him.

  ‘We thought you were dead.’

  ‘Dead? As you can see, I’m perfectly well,’ Felicity smiled, and everyone joined her. The sense of relief, of happiness, was almost overwhelming. Laughter filled the room, and slowly it died away, starting with Donna.

  ‘Hang on, aren’t you all forgetting something?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah? Why the disguise, Felicity?’ Stephen asked, ‘And the accent?’

  ‘I went to live in America,’ Felicity said. ‘I’ve been there for years. Made myself a new life.’

  ‘No. No, that’s not why I mean,’ Donna said, her voice filled with terror. ‘She’s the one who convinced Felicity to run away, remember.’

  All eyes in the room turned to Felicity. All joy was replaced with suspicion, even Georgia’s, by the look on her face.

  ‘Oh, Stephen, why did you have to be here?’ Felicity said, her American accent gone. ‘I would have got away with it if you weren’t here.’

  ‘Felicity, what do you mean? I don’t understand.’ Fraser said getting up from the sofa and shaking his head. ‘Donna’s right. What’s going on?’

  ‘Sit back down,’ Felicity snapped and then added, ‘Dad,’ in a most condescending tone.

  ‘Answer the questions, Felicity,’ Stephen said.

  ‘Why are you calling Fraser ‘dad’?’ Georgia’s head darted from person to person in the room.

  ‘Just stay there, Stephen. All of you, stay where you are,’ Felicity said. Her hand moved quickly and reappeared with a pistol.

  Donna screamed. Fraser put his arms around her and pulled her close.

  ‘One of a matching pair,’ Felicity said, pointing a Makarov at Georgia. ‘Ironic or poetic? I’ve never been magnificent at that sort of thing. That was more my brother’s gift, but you put him in jail.’ Felicity pulled off her wig and exposed her blonde hair.

  ‘It is you. But…but you’re dead,’ Georgia said. ‘I watched it all through the fireplace.’

  ‘You saw a cleverly planned illusion. You saw what you wanted to see. What Felix
and I wanted you to see. Did you see Felix cut my head off?’ Felicity stopped talking and then walked into the centre of the living room. ‘Stephen, please come and join your sister on the couch.’

  Threatened by a pistol for the second time in a week, Stephen did as he was told.

  ‘It was you I fought that night at the bridge, wasn’t it?’ Stephen said.

  Felicity gave a crooked smile. ‘Please believe me when I say I never intended you to be a part of this. Sadly your presence here, and your ill-fated bunglings that led to the arrest of my brother, have now made it impossible for me to let you live. And I was always so fond of you. I was hoping to seduce you, but my brother called before I got the chance. It’s a shame. I could have shown you such wonders. Made you feel such pleasure. And pain.’

  Stephen glanced across at Georgia. He could only see the side of her face, but she was frozen, staring at Felicity like she was in a hypnotic trance.

  Felicity turned her attention to Georgia’s parents. ‘Are you afraid, doctor?’

  ‘I’m a vet.’

  ‘I didn’t mean you, Daddy dearest. Why do men always think the world revolves around them?’

  ‘It certainly revolved around your brother,’ Stephen said.

  ‘No. He only thought it did. He was a tool, nothing more,’ Felicity said. ‘Just as Georgia was.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Donna managed to ask, her voice quiet and broken.

  Felicity gave a short laugh.

  ‘Go on,’ Stephen prompted. ‘Why this elaborate charade? Whose benefit is it for? Donna? She’s the only one left?’

  ‘I’d congratulate you, Stephen, but I know my brother said too much. It was all captured on video. He thought he was being clever, but he underestimated you and got caught. In the end, it’s worked out quite nicely though. I now have the pleasure of killing you all and I get to walk away. And everyone thinks I’m already dead.’

  ‘Oh, Felicity, is this all really that petty?’

  ‘Oh, Stephen,’ she mocked, ‘there’s nothing petty about revenge.’