by M A Comley
He placed his hands on his stomach and grinned. “I never said that. I can always find room for comfort food.”
“Maybe I should save that for Cara instead.”
“That was below the belt, love.”
“You’re too sensitive at times, Hero Nelson. I was joking.”
Fay heated the pudding in the microwave, and Hero ate every last morsel of his favourite dessert. Then he and Fay went through to the lounge to relax. Once they were settled, he recounted the events of the weekend.
“Hero, how awful. I saw something about the crash on the TV but turned it over because the kids were sitting with me. Do you think this woman will be okay?”
He shrugged. “Only time will tell. By the looks of things, she’s going to have to say goodbye to her career.”
“Oh my, that’s not good. Maybe you can do some form of charity event at work for her.”
Hero sat up. “What an excellent idea. I knew I married you for more than your syrup sponge.”
Fay slapped his arm and pointed to her head. “You bugger! There’s still a brain up there somewhere.”
“What a beautiful brain it is, too.” He kissed her hard and sighed. “I’d be lost without you by my side, Fay.”
She shrugged, and a twinkle entered her eye. “Yeah, I know.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Myers’s heart pumped harder. Dusk was descending rapidly, which meant he wouldn’t have to wait in the car park much longer. The post office was less busy. Only five customers had entered in the last half an hour, and there were three cars besides his left in the car park. He looked over at the duffel bag sitting on his front seat, the end of the crowbar poking out of the opening. A grin pulled his lips apart, and his eyes narrowed to slits at the thought of what lay ahead and the injuries he was about to cause.
He looked down at the clock on the dashboard and watched the digital reading change to 5:27. Another minute, and he would make his move. Grasping the duffel bag, he placed his hand on the door handle in preparation of a swift exit. The last customer walked out of the shop, got in his car, and left the car park. The time ticked over, and Myers sprinted from the car and marched through the door of the post office. A youth of around eighteen or nineteen was rearranging the birthday cards in a display rack, and just beyond him, a blonde woman was tidying up the notepaper and envelopes section.
Before either of them had the chance to look up, he pulled a gun and the crowbar from his bag then flipped the catch on the front door.
The woman screamed and attempted to run, no doubt to alert the authorities, but he reached for the young man. He pulled the youth towards him and hooked the crowbar under his chin, the metal tight across his throat, making the youngster gasp for breath. The youth’s arms flailed like a windmill caught in a high wind. “Don’t do anything, bitch, or I’ll kill him. No reaching for the panic button. No screaming to alert anyone outside. Nothing. Got that?”
The blonde’s eyes widened, and she gulped. In a weak voice, she replied, “Yes. What… what do you want?”
He tutted and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Umm… let me think about that for a second. I know—why don’t you tell me what you think I want. Be careful now. Any foolish answers, and the kid will get hurt.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Money?”
He dipped his head around to look at the terrified young man’s face. “She’s smart for a blonde, ain’t she?”
The terrified youngster nodded.
“Empty your safe, and put the money in the bag. Try anything behind the counter, and I’ll kill him. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes. I understand,” she replied, her voice trembling as much as her hands.
“Don’t just stand there—fucking move, woman! I ain’t got all day.” He yanked the bar up under the youth’s chin, and the boy cried out in pain. The woman screeched, grabbed the duffel bag, and rushed behind the counter. Myers pushed the youngster in front of him until they were both standing at the narrow doorway that led into the secure serving area.
He watched the blonde remove her keys from one of the drawers and kneel in front of the safe. Her hand shook so much that she kept missing the keyhole.
“Get a grip, woman. I want to be out of here in five minutes.”
“I’m sorry. You’re scaring me.”
He laughed. “I ain’t done nothing yet. You want me to scare you? I can arrange something to happen to the kid. You’re going the right way about it.”
“Please, don’t hurt my son.”
“Your son, eh? Well, that puts a different light on things. Stop backchatting and fucking do as you’re told.” Myers twisted the youth’s arm until he screamed.
The woman’s tears began to cascade down her face. She swiped them away angrily. “Don’t hurt him anymore. I’m begging you. I’ll give you what you want, I swear. Just don’t hurt my son.”
“Stop talking and get on with emptying the goddamn safe, woman. I ain’t here to have a conversation with you.”
The woman turned her full attention to emptying the safe. His eyes lit up when he saw how much money was stored inside compared to the other post offices.
“That’s all,” she said quietly. The way the woman avoided eye contact with him told him that she was lying.
Without saying anything, he pulled the youth backward and threw him on the ground before he aimed the crowbar at his lower legs.
“No! Please don’t. I’m sorry. I have more money in the backup safe in the other room.”
“Thought you might see sense. Just in case you try another dumb trick, I’ll give you this to think about.” He raised the crowbar high above his head and smashed it onto the youngster’s right shin. The youth’s scream echoed around the small shop area.
His mother’s response appeared to be stuck in her throat. She sobbed openly and threw herself on top of her son. “No more. If you have to hurt anyone, hurt me, not him.”
“I’ve got plans for you, bitch. Don’t worry about that. Now, do as you’re frigging well told and get the damn money. Next time, it won’t be the crowbar doing the damage.” His gaze drifted down to the shotgun he was holding in his other hand then back to her. “Get my drift?”
“Yes, okay, I’ll do it. I need to get up.” She clutched the edge of the counter and hauled herself to her feet, still gazing lovingly at her son, writhing in agony beside her.
Myers grabbed the youth’s jumper at the neck and yanked him to his feet. The youngster cried out in pain again.
“Shut the fuck up! You’re lucky I didn’t break it. Any more crap from either of you and I’ll finish the job off properly. Hear me? Go on, follow her.”
The three of them moved into the next room, where there was a much larger safe. The woman picked up a key off the desk and knelt in front of the safe, looking over her shoulder at her son as she shuffled into position.
“Don’t mess with me, lady. You’re wasting time; I can tell. Speed things up, or I’ll hurt him again. The choice is yours.”
The woman looked at her son, her expression a mixture of sorrow and desperation. She inserted the key and opened the safe to reveal a large stack of notes.
Myers let out a long whistle. “How come you carry so much cash here compared to the others?”
“One of my customers asked me to get in a large sum of cash for him to withdraw over the next week or so.”
“How much?”
“A hundred thousand.”
“Looks like I struck the jackpot. Stop dawdling, woman. Fill the bag.”
“I don’t think it will all fit in the bag.”
He groaned. “Then use your bloody initiative. Want me to do all your thinking for you?”
The woman scanned the nearby area and picked up a couple of carrier bags sitting next to the desk. His pulse rate escalated with each fat bundle she threw into the bags. He was glad to see the woman was finally taking the situation seriously. Within a few minutes, she stood up and offered him the bags.
<
br /> He shook his head. “I ain’t that stupid. You carry them through the shop to the front door. Remember, any funny business, and the kid gets a beating or more.”
She nodded, picked up the two carrier bags and the duffel bag, and struggled back into the shop. Myers pushed the hopping youth in front of him, the gun pointed at his lower spine and the crowbar resting on the youngster’s shoulder. Fortunately, the two were being compliant, riddled with fear and keen for him to leave. He chuckled inside at the plans he had for them.
The woman stopped at the entrance and turned to face him. “You’ve got what you came for. Now please, leave us alone.”
“Are you ordering me around, lady?”
“No, I’m begging you to leave me and my family alone. We can’t give you any more than we’ve given you already.”
He tilted his head and contemplated her plea. “Can’t you?”
“No, we have nothing else. We’ll probably get the sack when head office find out we’ve been robbed again.”
“Again? Prone to getting turned over, are you? If that’s the case, why the fuck did they allow you to have all that money on site?”
“It was a one-off. Someone robbed us a few years ago. Now this. I’m not sure I want to go on working here after this. My family means the world to me. I can’t put my son through anything like this again.”
“My heart bleeds for you—is that what you want to hear? Tough, because I lied. That’s the risk you guys take running places like this. Don’t expect the criminals to feel sorry for you, bitch.” He raised the gun and aimed it at her chest. Her son knocked the barrel down to the ground, and the gun went off in the commotion. The woman’s scream made both Myers and the youth freeze for a split second until Myers took control of the situation once more. He hit the youth in the face with the barrel of the gun, sending him reeling backwards against the front door. The boy slid to the ground and his mother dropped to the floor in front of him, blood pouring out of the gaping wound in her stomach.
“Look what your son did. I ain’t taking the blame for this one. Hmm… now there’s a thought—maybe I’ll train him up if he’s willing to shoot his own mother.” His head tipped back as he laughed.
The youth scrambled across the floor to get to his mother. “Mum, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I was only trying to help. I tried to get the gun off him.”
The woman smiled, her eyebrows knitted in pain. “It’s all right, Dale. It’s not your fault. Run. Get away from him. Don’t let him make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I won’t, Mum. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt?” Her smile slackened, and her head slipped to the side. “Mum… Mum, don’t die. I need you.”
He yanked the boy to his feet. “Pick up the bags. We’re out of here. Remember, kid, you killed her. Not me. Let’s go.”
“I can’t leave her like this. What if she’s just passed out and not dead?”
“With the amount of blood coming out of her stomach, I’d say there’s no saving her now. Hey, look at it this way: it’s always difficult getting your first murder out of the way.”
The boy glared at him then attempted to punch him. Myers raised the gun and pointed it at the kid’s chest.
“Go on. Do it. You might as well kill me now. I have nothing to live for knowing that this was my fault. Do it!”
Myers laughed and pointed at the bags at the youth’s feet. “Pick them up and open the door.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I need to get medical help for my mother.”
“She’s gone. I’ll let you in on a little secret: when someone’s chest no longer rises and falls, it means that person is dead. Now frigging move, or you’ll join her.”
The youth swallowed noisily. After one last glance in his mother’s direction, he picked up the bags and hopped towards the front door.
Myers unlocked the door and pushed the kid towards the car. “I ain’t afraid to use this gun, I assure you. I had no intention of killing your mother, although if she’d carried on pleading and talking nonsense, I probably would have been tempted. You beat me to it, saved me a job. Load the bags into the boot and then get inside.”
The youth’s gaze travelled from the boot to Myers. “I’m not getting in there. I’ll suffocate.”
“Does this face look bothered? Do as you’re told now!”
The youth opened the boot and slung the bags inside. “I can’t get in. My leg hurts.”
“Then don’t frigging stand on that leg. Want me to kill you here and be done with it?”
“No, sorry. Look, I’m getting in.” The boy placed his hands either side of his injured leg and guided it into the boot, then he sat on the edge of the car and swivelled the rest of his body inside.
“Hurry up. Get down,” Myers ordered, already closing the boot and hitting the youngster on the head.
Once the youth had shuffled into place, Myers locked the boot and hopped into the driver’s seat with a satisfied grin. He drove home at a normal speed, ensuring he didn’t draw attention to the vehicle. When he arrived, he opened the boot again, and the youth tried to sit up. “Stay there.” He unloaded the bags then slammed it shut again. After depositing the bags in the spare room of his house, he locked the door and went into the kitchen.
Tiger looked up and stretched when his master entered the room.
“Hungry, boy? I’ll rectify that now. I’ll be missing for the next twenty-four hours, so I’ll put plenty of food down for you.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Right, I’m calling it a day, team. See you all in the morning,” Hero called out as he walked towards the exit of the incident room.
Sally was on the phone, waving frantically at him to hang around.
He tutted and made his way over to her desk. “What’s up?”
“Sorry, sir, I’ve been informed that another post office has been hit.”
“What? Where?”
“Didsbury. It’s one of the main post offices in the area, unlike the smaller village ones that we’re currently dealing with.”
“I had better get over there.” He turned back to the incident room. “Julie, are you coming with me?”
She pulled a face as if querying why he would ask her such a dumb question at the end of her shift. She stood up and tucked her chair neatly under her desk. “If I have to, sir.”
“You guys get off. Be here bright and early.”
The rest of the team bid them farewell as Hero and Julie left the room. “Sorry if it’s an inconvenience to you, Shaw.”
“It’s not, sir. I was looking forward to an evening off with Rob, that’s all.”
“Ah, the uncertainty of being a Murder Investigation Team officer, eh? I really didn’t want another late one, either, if I’m honest. Let’s see if we can wrap things up within an hour. How’s that?”
Julie smiled tautly. “Sounds good to me, sir.”
Hero had crossed his fingers when he’d made the suggestion, fully aware of how things might pan out once they visited the crime scene. “Want to go in two cars? It’ll save me needing to drop you back off at the station.”
“If that’s what you want.”
Ever the enthusiastic partner! Before he set off, Hero called Fay to prepare her for yet another late night.
“Thanks for ringing, love. See you later, and, Hero, take care.”
“I will. Be home as quick as I can. Kiss the kids for me.” Hero ended the call and eased into the heavy traffic around the station. “Huh, wishful thinking that this will only take an hour,” he grumbled as if Julie were sitting right next to him. It took them over twenty minutes to get to the crime scene, where half the post office’s car park had been cordoned off. Hero parked alongside Gerrard’s car and waited for Julie to join him before he ducked under the tape.
Gerrard shouted as Hero entered the post office. “Not without protective clothing, Hero, if you don’t mind. You know where to find them. Help yourselves.”
Hero grumbled and stepped b
ack outside. Once he and Julie were togged up, they entered the crime scene. “What have we got, Gerrard?”
“A dead body.” Gerrard looked down at the woman’s body he’d been surveying when they had arrived.
“Funny. I suppose I asked for that. Just the one this time?”
“Looks like that. The postmistress was called Sharon Walker. According to the shopkeeper next door, who heard the shots fired, she ran this place with her son, Dale. He’s nowhere to be seen.”
“Interesting—perhaps it was the boy’s day off.”
Gerrard shrugged. “The shopkeeper couldn’t tell me that. He was waiting for us outside, rang you lot once he discovered the woman’s body. I told him that you’d need a statement when you got here.”
Hero turned to Julie. “I’ll leave that with you, Shaw.”
She tutted and nodded before leaving the shop.
“She loves me, really.” Hero chuckled. “So what happened, in your expert opinion?”
“Well, we found two safes on the premises. Looks like the culprit took the contents of both then killed the woman. She’s close to the front door. Maybe she ran after her assailant, and he halted her with a shotgun before she could leave the premises.”
“Linked to the other cases?” Hero asked, glancing down at the victim. The woman was blonde, in her early-to-mid forties, very attractive. The other victims had been much older, but this woman had so much more life to live. What a waste!
“Maybe, although there were no signs of torture here, just bullet wounds to her stomach.”
“I’ll take a look out the back, if that’s okay?”
“Go for it. My team are taking samples out there. Just keep out of their way.”
“Of course.” Hero went through the doorway into the office and small kitchenette area at the rear of the property. He was surprised to see no other accommodation to the premises, unlike the other scenes he’d been called out to recently. After acknowledging the two SOCO members, he surveyed the area from the doorway. The safe on the floor was empty, except for a small cardboard box. “What’s in the box? Mind if I have a look?”
