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NEARLY DEAD: the prequel to The Child Taker (Detective Alec Ramsay Series Book 0)

Page 7

by Conrad Jones

‘Talk now or they’re mincemeat.’

  ‘Okay, okay. I’ll tell you what happened. Promise me you will not touch them!’

  ‘You have my word.’

  ‘Promise me, Matt,’ Chris turned to look at his colleague. ‘Promise me that you won’t let him touch my family!’

  ‘He gives his word too,’ Charlie said, impatiently. ‘Get on with it before I change my mind.’

  ‘Promise me, Charlie!’

  ‘You have had all the promises that you’re going to get.’ Chris closed his eyes. ‘Get on with it.’

  ‘We never set out to do it, Charlie. I would never have turned against you if I’d had the choice. You must believe that. We had no choice.’

  ‘Everyone has a choice. Tell me what happened.’

  ‘We did a bit of business for ourselves last year,’ Chris began. His voice was reedy and broken. ‘The deal went to shit. We were set up by the Drug Squad and they lifted us with a kilo, a gun, and thirty grand in a holdall.’

  ‘This is you and Stuart?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘November last year.’

  ‘Fourteen months ago?’ Charlie asked, surprised.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We were screwed, Charlie. We were nabbed red handed with a kilo and a firearm. They said we were looking at a ten stretch at least. We have [EM8]both got kids, Charlie,’ Chris sobbed. ‘We couldn’t do a ten stretch. They said we could walk if we fed them information.’

  ‘So, you are a grass? Fucking scumbag,’ Matt hissed. ‘You have[EM9] given them information about us for fourteen months? There will be enough evidence to bang us all up for fucking years!’

  ‘Wanker!’ Justin shouted and kicked Chris in the face. Matt joined in kicking the prone man until his cries became a whimper. He stopped struggling.

  ‘Stop!’ Charlie shouted. The men backed off reluctantly. Charlie walked to an old sink and filled an empty water bottle from the cold tap. He returned to the injured man and poured the water onto his face. Chris began to cough and splutter. He opened his eyes. ‘Do the police know about this place?’ Charlie asked. Chris nodded that they did but couldn’t speak. Charlie looked around. They were surrounded by hundreds of brand new stolen plasma TV’S and container loads of fake designer goods from China. ‘Why haven’t they swooped in and arrested us yet?’ Charlie frowned. He prodded Chris with the toe of his boot. ‘Why haven’t they lifted us yet, Chris?’

  ‘Jaz and the Karpovs,’ Chris moaned, hoarsely.

  ‘What the fuck has Jaz got to do with this?’

  ‘They knew that you were working with him more and more. They want to nab you and Jaz at the same time in the hope it might lead to Viktor Karpov.’

  ‘They’re going to use me to get to Viktor Karpov and Jaz?’

  ‘I think that was their plan.’

  ‘And then what did you think would happen, Chris? You and Stuart would have stepped in and took over while we were all rotting in the slammer?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I couldn’t go to jail, Charlie. My missus would have fucked off and I would never have seen my kid again. I had no choice!’

  ‘If Jaz and the Karpovs think that we’ve been leaking information from our outfit, they’ll go ballistic,’ Charlie said, thoughtfully. ‘They’ll bury all of us.’

  ‘Then we’re double fucked,’ Matt moaned. ‘We’ll have the police and Jaz all over us.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Think about this rationally,’ Charlie said, scratching his chin. ‘We have the upper hand now.’

  ‘How do you work that one out?’

  ‘We know that they know.’

  ‘But they don’t know that we know,’ Justin added. ‘We could sneak the gear away from here a little a time and they won’t know we’re relocating. Then we carry on as normal.’

  ‘You have it in one,’ Charlie said, smiling. ‘Tell me Chris, was it Matrix who set you up?’

  ‘I think so. I was never sure.’

  ‘How often did you communicate with them?’

  ‘Once a week. The same place every time.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘There’s a litterbin outside of a pub called The Sportsman on Denbigh Moors,’ Chris groaned. Talking was becoming difficult. ‘We dropped the stuff there at seven o’clock in the morning every Wednesday.’

  ‘What stuff?’ Charlie snapped. ‘What fucking stuff did you drop?’

  ‘Mostly memory sticks, sometimes paperwork.’

  ‘Memory sticks? What the fuck was on the memory sticks?’

  ‘Pictures mostly.’

  ‘Mostly?’

  ‘Recordings sometimes,’ Chris whispered.

  ‘You were wired up and carrying surveillance cameras around us for fourteen months?’

  ‘Not all the time.’

  ‘How often?’

  ‘A lot of the time. I’m sorry. They made us do it, Charlie. It was that or do a ten stretch.’

  ‘You wore a wire and a camera for over a year while you were around us?’ Matt asked, astounded. ‘You fucking cunt! How much stuff have they got on us? I don’t believe this. We’ll go down for years. We won’t get out until we’re nearly dead!’

  ‘That changes things dramatically,’ Charlie said, looking at his watch. ‘I’m very, very fucked off with you, Chris.’ He frowned, his face as dark as thunder. ‘You never met your handler, everything was done remotely at this pub?’

  ‘Twice we had a meeting with a big shot DI from the Drug Squad and a woman from the CPS. That was in the early days after we got lifted. After that it was just dropping shit at the pub.’

  ‘How far away is this pub, about sixty miles?’

  ‘About that. It takes about an hour and twenty minutes, roughly. I’m so sorry, Charlie!’ Chris began to sob again.

  ‘Sorry doesn’t change anything.’

  ‘I know it doesn’t. I wish I could take it all back!’

  ‘You can’t undo it. The damage is done.’

  ‘I’ll tell them that it was all bollocks,’ Chris said, clutching at straws. ‘I’ll say we made it all up.’

  ‘It’s too late for that. Do you have any idea what you have done, Chris?’ Charlie asked, calmly. ‘Jail would have been a doddle for you. You would have done it standing on your head and been out in five. Instead, you turned on your friends. You are a fucking grass! What you have done is unforgiveable.’

  Chris nodded. ‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry, Charlie. We had no choice. Really we didn’t.’

  ‘There’s always a choice. You just picked the wrong one.’ Charlie climbed into the X5 and closed the door, lowering the window as he did so. ‘Pick up his wife and kid and take them all to the abattoir.’ Chris began to scream hysterically. ‘Make him watch before you do him.’

  ‘His kid, Charlie?’ Matt said, shaking his head. ‘I’ve known that girl since she was born. That is too far for me, Charlie. I can’t do that!’

  ‘Justin. What about you and you two?’ Charlie asked the other men. They shrugged that it wasn’t too far for them.

  ‘The bastard has been filming us for over a year. He didn’t give a fuck about me being with my family when he was doing that, did you, you fucking rat?’ Justin kicked Chris hard in the groin, doubling him up in agony. ‘I’ll do them, no problem and then I’ll do him.’

  ‘Good. You need to open your eyes, Matt.’ Charlie said, pointing a finger at Chris. ‘That piece of shit has been stitching up you and your family for fourteen months. If we get nicked, you could be away from your kids for a very long time because of him.’

  ‘I know he has it coming but not his kid, Charlie, and not like that,’ Matt said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t watch that.’

  ‘Don’t go soft on me, Matt. We need to send a message loud and clear that if you grass, you lose everything and everyone you love. Boom!’ Charlie clapped his hands together loudly. ‘All your life gone because you talked to the police. If we don’t respond to this
, the Karpovs will crucify us.’ He looked his men in the eyes, one by one. ‘You know what we have to do. Call me when it’s done.’ He closed the window and started the engine.

  ‘Charlie, this is madness!’ Matt shouted after him, trying to persuade him to change his orders. His boss ignored him. ‘Charlie! Come on, this is too far, man!’ The X5 roared away into the night. Chris’s incoherent pleas for mercy went unheeded.

  CHAPTER 6

  Brian Selby was sitting in an interview room wearing a blue forensic suit. He was biting his nails, muttering to himself and staring at his feet. His brief appeared to be taking notes although, apart from a few lines, the page was blank. The detectives across the table glanced at each other, checked their watches and stood up to leave. Detective Inspector Alec Ramsay watched through the glass. He was totally underwhelmed by the sight of Brian Selby. Master criminal he was not. There was something almost childlike about him. Alec rubbed the deep dimple on his chin and his forehead wrinkled, deep creases appeared at the corners of his eyes. The door of the interview room opened and the detectives stepped out. DI Joanne West from the Drug Squad smiled as she greeted him.

  ‘What are you doing all the way down here, guv?’ she said, sarcastically. She flicked her raven hair from her shoulders and straightened her trousers and jacket. The smell of Chanel Chance drifted with her. ‘Are you lost?’

  ‘Cheeky bugger,’ he chuckled. ‘It has been a while since I’ve been down in the dungeons. I had to ask for directions but I found it.’ He grinned. ‘Seriously, I wanted to let you know that the DS from the search team at the prison called me,’ Alec said, smiling. No matter how shit the day was, Jo made him smile. She just had an aura around her that made people feel comfortable. ‘The dogs found a body. It’s only been there a few hours.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Jo said, looking at Brian through the glass. He was still muttering to himself and staring at his feet. ‘I don’t know what I was expecting them to find but it wasn’t a body.’

  ‘He doesn’t look like a killer to me,’ Alec agreed.

  ‘What have they got so far?’ Jo asked.

  ‘The victim is male, thirties, two gunshot wounds to the chest buried in a shallow grave. Estimated time of death is around midnight last night. They haven’t got an ID yet.’

  ‘Shot?’ Jo was amazed. ‘Any sign of a gun?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Dr Libby doesn’t think the bullets killed him,’ Alec said, staring at Brian. Jo frowned. ‘There are three very deep lacerations to the face and throat of the victim. He thinks the blow to the throat killed him. Apparently, it smashed the larynx. There’s evidence of internal bleeding, so he was alive when it was caused but the wounds are full of dirt.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Jo was confused.

  ‘He’s not certain but he thinks the body may have been buried when the lacerations were inflicted. The blade went through the soil before it pierced the skin.’

  ‘Was the body in the woods?’ Jo asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He was lifted coming out of the woods.’ She looked at Brian again. ‘It isn’t looking good for him.’

  ‘It isn’t. What time was he picked up?’

  ‘Just before one. They had him on suspicion of flying drugs over the wall but the custody sergeant noticed blood spatter on his face and clothes when he was booking him in and the scratches on his throat prove he was in some kind of altercation,’ Jo said, staring through the glass. ‘I think we should charge him now but this guy seems to be away with the fairies. He won’t even confirm his name. I’ve sent uniform around to his home. The neighbours say that he lives with his elderly mother. She’s infirmed apparently.’

  ‘Any other forensics in yet?’ Alec asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin. There were more white bristles than black.

  ‘Only the drug swabs. Selby and the drone both tested positive for being in proximity of cocaine recently. It’s too early for GSR results.’

  ‘I think he’s playing the game,’ Alec said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s playing dumb because he knows that we’ll find the body and he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing until he knows what we have. If he has gunshot residue on him, it’s a slam dunk but somehow, I don’t think it is going to be that easy.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath on the results. I’ve never had a slam dunk yet, have you?’

  ‘There’s more chance of spotting a unicorn in the garden.’ Alec said, patting her shoulder. ‘I think you should give him the bad news about the body and see how he reacts.’

  ‘Will do, Guv.’

  ‘Keep me in the loop on this one.’

  ‘I will do. Any special reason why?’ she smiled, confused.

  ‘I have a funny feeling there’s much more to this than meets the eye.’

  ‘So, do I,’ she said, looking back into the interview room. Alec walked away towards the lifts. He waved a hand. ‘I’ll call you when we get anything.’

  CHAPTER 7

  Rachel Cornell stroked her daughter’s hair. Claire had always been a difficult sleeper. She would wake most nights, about the same time, suffering with nightmares. Rachel put it down to her being too hot as the nightmares were usually accompanied by sweats. Tonight, was different and she had gone off halfway through her bedtime story and slept soundly. Rachel smiled as she watched Claire sleeping peacefully. She resembled her husband, Chris, so much that it was like looking at a tiny female version of him. Chris was working late again. The late nights were part of the job but recently, they seemed to be becoming more frequent. Their relationship was spiralling out of control. They were like ships that passed in the night, he slept when she was awake and he barely spent any time with their daughter. He wasn’t happy at work but he was trying to hide it but she could read him like a book. Every line on his face told her a story, every expression betrayed what was going on in his mind. The year before, she had sensed that something had changed dramatically but he wouldn’t talk about it. He had always been shady about his work but things were worse now. Worse than they had ever been before. It was getting to the point where she had thought about leaving. She didn’t even know exactly what was wrong but it was something to do with his job. She didn’t even know exactly what he did but she had a gut feeling that he was up to no good. The money that he brought home was enough to keep her from digging too deep. They lived in a detached house that was the envy of both their families, she drove a new car, and wanted for nothing. Whenever she mentioned the late hours, he said it was only for a few years until they were stable enough for him to change employer and get out. He mentioned his boss, Charlie, sometimes but when she asked what he was like, he would clam up. She had overheard phone calls a few times and she had heard Charlie shouting and being abusive towards Chris. When she asked him what he wanted and why he was being so nasty, Chris had said that he was just like that. He was adamant that he wouldn’t be working for him forever. She wasn’t sure what he would do if he did change careers because he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer so she didn’t push too hard. He loved her and Claire and when he was with them, he treated them like princesses and that was all that mattered.

  Headlights lit up the bedroom, sweeping left to right through the curtains, illuminating Claire’s books and dolls. Their eyes seemed to twinkle and they looked so alive in the half-light. The sound of a diesel engine drifted to her. The nerves on her scalp tingled, sending shivers down her spine. She instantly knew that something was wrong. Danger was approaching. She didn’t know how she knew but she did. The urge to look through the curtains was overwhelming but her survival instinct warned her not to. A twitch of the curtains would give away her position in the house. The vehicle wasn’t Chris’[EM10]. She knew how his engine sounded. She tucked the quilt around Claire and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly. She heard the vehicle slow and come to a stop. The tyres crunched to a halt on the gravel driveway. She heard the vehicle [EM11]doors opening and whispered vo
ices then the sound of footsteps approaching the house. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She touched her pocket where her mobile lived and listened intently, her senses on overdrive. She felt ice-cold when she realised that the pocket was empty. Her phone wasn’t there.

  Rachel went to the spare bedroom and peered out of the window. There was a white van parked at the front of the house. The lights were on and the engine was ticking over, exhaust fumes climbed skyward from the exhaust. She saw movement directly below her and as she looked down, her heart nearly stopped. Her breath stuck in her chest. She put her hands to her mouth to stifle any noise she might make involuntarily. The instinct to scream gripped her but she knew that no one would hear her. Their nearest neighbours were half a mile away. She put her face nearer to the glass. Two men in balaclavas were looking up at the windows. They spoke briefly and then parted. One of them headed for the front door, the second headed towards the rear of the house. She could hear their footsteps on the gravel. Panic set in and she bolted. She ran to her bedroom and scrambled across the bed, looking frantically for her mobile phone. Her fingers reached for the bedside lamp, fumbled at the switch and clicked the light on. The charger was plugged into the wall, where it always was but the Samsung was not attached to it. She jumped up and tried to think.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ she whispered under her breath. The blood was racing through her brain. She remembered that she had been texting her friend while she watched her soaps on catch-up earlier. It was on the coffee table downstairs next to a bottle of wine. She ran to the landing and looked over the banister. A dark shadow appeared at the front door. The doorbell rang. The noise made her jump. She bolted down the stairs and made it halfway down when the sound of the handle being twisted came to her from the kitchen. She could hear the door being rattled in its frame. The noise of breaking glass stopped her dead in her tracks. The back door had a glass panel. Chris always moaned at her for leaving the key in the lock. ‘If a burglar breaks the glass, they can reach the key, Rachel. You might as well leave the fucking thing open,’ she heard his voice in her mind. She heard glass shattering on the floor and the key turning in the lock. The front doorbell rang again and again followed by a loud persistent knocking. The letterbox rattled and then opened and she saw eyes looking at her. She thought they were familiar.

 

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