by M A Comley
“Be our guest,” the female technician said.
Hero got down on one knee to remove the box. Inside were a few bunches of keys and various odds and sods, nothing major. He replaced it and picked up the handbag on the desk. “Can I?”
After the technician nodded, Hero opened the bag with his gloved hand and withdrew the woman’s ID. He jotted down her address in his notebook before he replaced the bag on the desk and returned to the shop.
“Anything else for me, Gerrard? I’ve got the woman’s address. I’m going to head over there now, see if anyone is at home.”
“Nothing else here. I’ll let you know when the PM reports are available. Good luck.”
Hero sighed. “You, too.” He left the post office and peered through the window of the grocery shop next door. Julie was talking to an Indian man standing behind the counter. Hero dipped his head around the front door and heard Julie completing the man’s statement.
“Thank you, Mr. Singh. You’ve been most helpful.” Julie walked towards Hero. “He didn’t really see anything, just heard the shots. He called 999 straight away and shut up shop until our boys arrived.”
“Has he had any bother from any gangs or anything like that?”
“I did ask. He said nothing along those lines. It has to be connected to the other post office raids, doesn’t it?”
“It’s looking more and more likely. I’ve got the woman’s home address. I’m going to shoot over there now to inform the family. It’s only up the road. Do you want to come, or would you rather go home?”
“I’m all right for another half an hour or so if you need the moral support, sir.”
“Good girl. In that case, follow me.”
They slipped out of their paper suits and set off. The woman’s house was a few streets away, in one of the classier areas of Manchester. The large Victorian detached house sat at the end of a long driveway on Clover Road. A few of the rooms inside were lit, and an outside light acted like a beacon to guide them up the front steps. Hero inhaled and exhaled a few times before he rang the ornate bell in the porch. He hated this side of the job, and he struggled to find the right amount of empathy to show to the deceased’s family.
Aware of his discomfort, Julie asked, “Want me to say it, sir?”
Hero shook his head. “Appreciate the offer. I’ll be fine.”
A man whose hair was greying at the sides opened the door. “Hello? May I help you?”
“Mr. Walker?”
“Yes, that’s right. And you are?”
Hero produced his ID. “DI Nelson, and this is my partner, DS Shaw. Is it all right if we come in and speak to you, Mr. Walker?”
The man frowned and looked at his watch, peering through rimless glasses. “My wife should be home soon. I’m just putting the finishing touches to our evening meal, if that’s okay?”
Hero nodded. He and Julie followed the man through the spacious hallway into the large kitchen-diner at the rear. Mr. Walker turned down the electric rings under the pots on the stove and invited them to take a seat at the table.
“What’s this in connection with, Inspector?”
Hero’s heart raced. “It’s with regret, sir, that I have to inform you that your wife was found murdered at the post office this evening.”
Walker stared at him. His hand ran through his short hair as tears welled up in his eyes. Recovering his voice, he said, “She’s dead? Sharon is dead?”
“I’m sorry, yes.”
“But you said she’d been murdered? How?”
“It looks like the post office was robbed. There have been other instances in the area recently. Maybe you saw the TV appeal we put out a few days ago?”
“Yes, we did. Sharon promised me that she would be extra vigilant, told me not to worry because Dale would be with her.”
“Dale? Your son? Is he here?”
The man scratched his head. “No, he was at work with Sharon. Are you saying that he wasn’t there? Only Sharon was killed?”
“There was no one else found at the scene, sir. Does your son have a mobile phone? Would you ring the number for us?”
His hand shaking, he reached for his mobile sitting in the centre of the table and punched in a number. “Dale… Dale, where are you?”
Hero frowned at Julie and looked back at Mr. Walker. “Has he answered the call?”
“Yes, the phone was answered, and then he hung up. What the hell is going on? Where’s my son?”
“Given the evidence we have to hand, I have to ask the obvious question, Mr. Walker: is there any way that your son could be involved in this?”
Walker shook his head in disbelief. “What? How dare you! He’s a good lad, very loving. He’d never hurt his mother. I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing.”
“Sorry if the question caused any offence. You can understand why I would ask if he wasn’t found at the post office with his mother.”
“No, I’m not sure I can understand. My son is missing, and you suspect him of killing his own mother! I can categorically tell you he would never sink so low. The boy has never been in bother. Never caused us a day’s trouble in the nineteen years he’s been on this earth. I suggest you stop wasting time here, questioning me—get out there and start looking for Dale! From what I can tell, he’s been abducted by the same insane person who killed my beautiful wife.”
“That was my next train of thought. One more question, and then we’ll leave you in peace. Has your wife mentioned anyone strange hanging around the post office?”
“No, nothing like that.” His hands covered his face, and he let out a large sigh. “I can’t believe I’ll never see her again. We were childhood sweethearts, got married when I was twenty and she was eighteen. People said it would never last, but we proved them wrong, until now… my life is going to feel so empty without her to share it. Please, you have to find my son. I just don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him, as well. They’re all I have in this world, Inspector.”
“I understand. Please accept my condolences and my assurance that we won’t stop until we have apprehended this man and found your son.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
Hero stood up to leave. “We better get on. Would you like me to ring someone to maybe come over and sit with you for a while?”
“No. I’d rather be on my own to deal with this.”
“Sorry, one last thing: have you got a recent photo of your son?”
He walked over to the dresser and yanked out a drawer. The contents spilled onto the floor. He tossed things aside until he located a family holiday snap. He handed the photo to Hero then started for the front door, clearly expecting them to follow.
When Hero and Julie had stepped across the threshold, Hero turned back to the other man.
“Please keep me informed, Inspector,” Mr. Walker said before he gently closed the door behind them.
“Poor man. So, are we going to put out an alert for the son, sir?” Julie asked as they walked down the steps.
“Yep, I’m going to action that now. It’s better to do it now than leave it and feel the wrath of the DCI for shoddy policing. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Julie. See you in the morning.”
“You, too, sir.”
After placing the call to the station, Hero eased into the traffic, which was thankfully lighter this evening, allowing him time to contemplate how to proceed with the case. By the end of his journey, he had decided it would be better to put out a TV appeal the following day. Someone somewhere might have seen the two men.
Once he arrived home, he made a point of spending the first ten minutes sitting alongside Fay as she read the girls their bedtime story. Feeling the need to be near his family, in light of what he’d encountered on his shift regarding the Walker family, didn’t strike that often, but when it did, Hero always succumbed to the need. Louie was stroking Sammy when Hero walked into his bedroom.
“Hey, Munchkin, it’s time you were asleep.”
Louie s
hook his head. “Too early for me to go to sleep yet, Dad. Mum usually lets me read for an hour or so.”
“All right, no longer than that. Love you, son,” he said, kissing the boy on his head.
“Love you, too, Dad.”
He clicked his fingers for Sammy to join him, and together, they went to the kitchen to wait for Fay. He leaned against the counter and stared at the floor.
“Well, that was a surprise. What’s up?” Fay asked when she joined him a few minutes later.
“Nothing, just work. Needed to spend some quality time with my family for a change. Fancy a glass of wine?”
“There’s some red in the cupboard. You get that, and I’ll heat up your bolognaise, then you can tell me about your day.”
Hero cringed, uncertain he really wanted to tell her about his last stop on his way home from work.
“You’ve gone quiet on me. I take it the news isn’t good… you haven’t lost another colleague on duty?”
“No, nothing like that.” He sighed. “I had to tell a man that his wife had been murdered today. He informed me that his teenage son was at work with his wife, but there was no sign of him at the scene. He’s out there somewhere with this lunatic who we believe has been torturing and killing the postmasters and mistresses in the area.” He poured two glasses of wine and dropped into a chair.
Fay pressed the button on the microwave and crossed the room to him. She stood behind him and placed her arms around his neck. “Oh, darling, now I understand. I’m so sorry that you have to deal with this crap.”
“Not as sorry as I am for Mr. Walker and all the other relatives this idiot is tormenting by killing their family members. Let’s hope we effing catch this bastard soon. I get the impression he’s laughing at us. He’s already changed his car once to put us off the scent. What’s going to stop him from doing that every time he holds up one of these places? What if he ups the ante and starts robbing banks? It’s not improbable, once he gets a taste for the money. What I want to know is what his intentions are for this lad? At the moment, we have far more questions than answers, and to be honest with you, that’s what is annoying me most about these cases.”
“Oh, love, I have faith in your abilities. It might seem that these cases are impossible to solve right now, but you know as well as I do, it only takes the killer to mess up once—and that’s when you’ll be able to pounce on him. I feel sorry for the gentleman whose son is now missing, as if he won’t be going through enough grieving his wife. Poor man.” The microwave pinged. Fay kissed his cheek, went to retrieve his meal and placed the steaming food in front of him.
“Thanks, Fay. Don’t be annoyed if I can’t manage it all.”
“Never. Just eat what you can. You’ll need to keep your strength up for the fight that lies ahead of you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Hero sighed heavily after completing the live TV appeal. He’d ensured the public knew exactly what kind of monstrous person the police were dealing with and highlighted that the person involved had now taken a hostage.
The team sat around staring at the phones, waiting for them to ring for almost two hours before they finally jolted into action. Even then, most of the calls turned out to be from youngsters messing around. It peeved Hero that people could take murder and the abduction of a person so lightly. When he was growing up, he’d been very sensitive to people’s grief he’d witnessed on TV, but nowadays, a life meant nothing to most folks unless it affected them personally. What a brutal society we live in!
The results of Jason’s search of the CCTV footage around the Didsbury post office came in late that afternoon. “Boss, you might want to take a look at this,” Jason announced, popping his head around the door to Hero’s office.
He ditched the file he was reading and followed the young sergeant to his desk. “Okay, what do you have for me?”
“I’ve spent the afternoon looking at different footage surrounding the post office area, sir, and come up with this. It’s a white Avensis. I’m thinking it’s possibly the one that was stolen the other day.”
“Licence number?”
Jason tutted. “I’ve studied it from different angles and can’t be sure it’s the same one, sir. I’ve caught the end of the plate on two cameras and finally made out the last few digits. They don’t match.”
“That’s a shame, but we can’t rule it out. For all we know, this guy might have numerous plates he uses. Maybe he switches them every time he goes out. Have you planned out his route?”
“Not yet, sir. It’s taken me most of the afternoon to find the damn car. If you’re happy for me to proceed, then I’ll do just that.”
“Let me know what you find out. See if he leads you back to the same area the Laguna travelled to before it was ditched.”
“Leave it with me, sir.”
Hero’s eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. It was almost five. He thumped his thigh in frustration and went back to his office. He picked up his final letter that needed a reply but dropped it onto the desk again when his phone rang. “DI Nelson. How can I help?”
“Are you talking to me yet?”
Recognising his sister’s voice, he sat back in his chair and bounced a few times before he answered. “I’ll never stop speaking to you, Cara. We’re bound to have disagreements now and then. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I was checking in with you before I left work, surprised that you hadn’t rung me, if you must know.”
“I would have, except it’s been chaotic. I take it you haven’t seen my face plastered all over your TV screen then?”
“No, sorry. Too busy.”
“With Rogerson, I presume?”
Cara exhaled a large breath. “Yes, with Rogerson. If you’re going to start on me again, I’ll hang up now.”
“I have neither the time nor the inclination for having another spat with you. I have too much on my plate as it is.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. Anything I can help with?”
“Not really. Several murder cases linked to raids on post offices and now an abduction of the latest victim’s son to contend with. We believe whoever we’re chasing is also linked to killing Portman and Wilmot. The trouble is, despite making two TV appeals, the clues just aren’t surfacing at present. This guy is probably holed up somewhere, laughing at our ineptness.”
“That’s tough. Want me to drop over tonight and do some brainstorming with you?”
“Any other time, I’d jump at the chance, but I didn’t get home until late yesterday. Thought I’d call it a day soon. Maybe another time, depending on what your plans are in the coming days, of course.”
“Okay, I’m here if you need me; remember that. Have a good evening, Hero.”
“Thanks. You, too, love. Thanks for extending the olive branch.”
“One of us had to do it. Love you.”
“Ditto. Speak soon.”
Hero hung up, relieved that all was well again between him and his twin. He quickly wrote his last reply then unhooked the jacket off the back of his chair and headed home for the evening, dismissing his team on the way out.
~ ~ ~
Myers smiled as he watched the copper in charge make his second appeal in as many days. Looking over at the youth he had tied to the bed in the corner, he grinned. “Got them going around in circles, I have. Over the next few days, they’re gonna wonder what’s hit them, and you know what… you’re going to be instrumental in my plans.”
The youth’s eyes almost dropped out of their sockets. The fear and grief was evident in his features. His hands shook. But Myers still didn’t think the boy was terrified enough. Not yet.
He needed to make himself crystal clear from the beginning that he wasn’t the type of person to be messed with. He had nothing and no one to fear. If everything went belly-up and his life ended, it really wouldn’t matter to him. The only thing he had worth hanging on to in this life was Tiger—all because of them. The Greater Manchester Police Force had torn his
life apart. He’d stewed on things for years, too many years, pulling off smaller crimes and getting away with it. But the time for his endgame had come.
Adrenaline filled his veins as more and more plans seeped into his head. He would let them believe it was all about the money, but it was about so much more. He intended to toy with them for a few weeks. He wanted to fulfil several more tasks before he finally bowed out of this world. He would end his own life, to be with her again. He refused to give them the satisfaction of doing it for him, but that time hadn’t come yet.
“What’s your name?” he asked, forgetting what the boy’s mother had called him at the post office.
The boy swallowed. “Dale Walker.”
“Well, Dale Walker. Fancy some fish and chips? My treat.”
“Something to eat would be nice, thank you.”
He left Dale tied to the bed, having no doubt the boy would try his hardest to escape his bindings once he was out of sight, but Myers had no fear the boy would succeed. He exited the recently purchased small detached home on the edge of a fairly new estate and walked around the corner to the fish-and-chip shop.
The young black girl behind the counter welcomed him with a brief smile. “What can I get for you?”
“Cod and chips twice.”
The girl worked quickly, taking the chips out of the fryer and the fish out of the heated cabinet. “Salt and vinegar?”
“Yes, on both.”
“That’ll be eight pounds fifty.”
Daylight robbery—used to be one sixty when my Mum used to send me down the chippie. Bloody inflation! Maybe I should whack her over the head and just take off. Nah, it’ll only bring the coppers snooping around this area. That’s the last thing I want.
“I could buy a big sack of spuds and a dozen fish from the supermarket for that price.”
The girl began to unwrap the parcel again. “Take it or leave it, mate. The price is up there on the board. It’s not like I’m trying to rip you off or anything.”
Sneering, he pulled a tenner out of his pocket and threw it over the counter at her. “Take the bloody money. I’ll be sure to take my business elsewhere in future—your attitude sucks, girl.”
