ROAD TO NOWHERE : DCI MILLER 3: Another Manchester Crime Thriller With A Killer Twist

by Steven Suttie

  Mel was discovering that this policeman’s seedy little text message had created quite a turmoil in her mind. She was disgusted, angry, shocked and upset. But she was also quite flattered, and, even though it made her feel guilty, and shameful, she felt turned-on by the text message. This aspect of the scenario was the part that was causing her the most confusion. She found the idea of stripping off and taking a photograph of herself in her bedroom, before the full length wardrobe mirror, and then sending it to this stranger, under such weird, creepy circumstances, surprisingly erotic.

  Despite herself, Mel could think of nothing more than getting showered, and then maybe taking a few pictures. Not to send to the policeman, she convinced herself – just to see what they’d be like. She’d not felt this naughty for, well, she couldn’t remember how long it had been since her pulse was throbbing this strongly.

  She was happy with the pictures of herself. She’d forgotten about all these sexy feelings, they were from a time long ago, from a time before buying houses, planning an extension and having babies. This was amazing. Lost in the moment, she sent her favourite one to the copper. It was a major turn-on for her, thinking about this policeman getting a thrill from seeing her photograph. Not long after sending it, Mel felt the phone vibrate. There was a message from the unknown number.

  “Wow! Oh my God, stunning. You are gorgeous. You can definitely forget about that ticket now!!!!!”

  Mel was lay on her bed, gently nibbling at her bottom lip, and feeling very pleased with herself. She felt victorious, sexy, and quite satisfied. She’d managed to get out of the ban, and had got a great buzz out of the whole experience at the same time.

  “That was definitely the strangest day ever!” she said as she dressed into her pyjamas, and headed downstairs. There was a bottle of wine in the kitchen, she remembered. After pouring herself a generous glass, she settled down on the sofa and looked through the channels for something trashy to watch. She settled for Celebrity Big Brother. Her mind was still distracted by the texts. A flutter flipped Mel’s tummy as she thought about how naughty she’d been. She smiled and took a sip from the glass, shocked and surprised by her behaviour.

  But that was enough fun, now, she decided, as she sat and deleted the chain of text messages, one by one. Then, she went into the photo gallery on her phone, and deleted the saucy pics that she’d taken of herself.

  That was the end of that, as far as Melanie Meyer was concerned.

  *****

  Pete’s mood was a little better when he arrived home. He’d obviously had a few pints in Manchester, before making his way home. He still looked depressed though, as he wandered into the living room and sat down heavily on the sofa.

  “Hiya love.” Said Mel, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

  “Alright?” said Pete. Mel realised straight away that he’d had more than a few. He was hammered.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Eh? Yes, I am actually. I never noticed until you said that! I’m absolutely totally starving! I could eat Vanessa Feltz.”

  Mel laughed loudly, keen to encourage Pete’s silliness. “Fried or oven baked?”

  “Anything. Raw. I’m not fussy. I’m leaving her face though. I’m not fucking eating that!”

  Mel laughed again. She stood up, and walked through to the kitchen. She returned a few seconds later with the takeaway menu.

  “Aw soz, they don’t do Vanessa Feltz. They’ve got pizzas though.”

  “Yeah, go on, phone our favourite and get some cheesey chips with mayo. Top idea Mel!”

  Mel phoned the food, and gave her husband a kiss on the forehead as she sat back down beside him. She was pleased that the conversation hadn’t returned to the shop-fit that he’d been ripped off with.

  “Where did you get to?”

  “I went to town, walked it, had a few pints on my way there, then I had a few in town, and I got the tram home. I’m a wee bit worse for wear! I have to admit it.”

  Mel didn’t want to respond, just in case she said “on a school night as well,” or some other remark that might remind Pete of why he’d gone off in the first place. She thought it would be best to leave it, especially while he was making daft jokes and acting silly. The next sound he made was a snore. Pete had nodded off, long before the food arrived. Mel shook him gently, but she knew that he was fast asleep. A bomb going off wouldn’t wake him when he was inebriated like this. He’d have to stay put.

  Mel had a few slices of pizza, and poured another glass of wine. Pete’s snoring was doing her head in, so she found the sofa blanket and tucked him in, switched the telly off and headed off upstairs with her glass of wine, determined to make some progress with the book she was reading. It had been an extraordinary day, and now, as it was drawing to a close, Mel was glad that everything seemed to be alright.

  *****

  The following afternoon, Mel received another text from the unknown number. It was a dirty, smutty comment, and it made her feel sick, and it brought with it a great deal of guilt as well. Now that the “cheap thrill” of sending the photo had been spent, Mel was beginning to feel extremely bad. She felt cheap, stupid and used, but she also felt that she had cheated on Pete as well. This new text, from out of the blue made her profoundly sad, and deeply ashamed. She decided that it would be for the best all round to block the number. She had to mess around with her phone for a while, and even had to ask a colleague how to do it, but eventually, she figured out how to block the mobile number from contacting her. Mel put her phone away in her handbag and breathed a sigh of relief. That was that. End of story. Thank God for that.

  *****

  The following week, Mel Meyer couldn’t believe her eyes, as she drove along on the familiar route home from her work. For the second time in her life, she was being followed by a police car. It was dark, and she couldn’t see inside the car well enough to make out if it was that sleazy sergeant, but she had gone from not having a care in the world, to panicking, just in case it was.

  It was just a coincidence, she kept telling herself.

  The police car trailed her for almost two miles, before

  the blue lights came on, and as had happened the week previous, the familiar sound of the booo-wop siren sound was instructing her to pull over by the side of the road. She was driving through Monton, a small town in between Swinton and Eccles. It was only a mile or so from her home, and the thought crossed Mel’s mind that she should just keep going and ignore this weirdo policeman. If she kept driving, she reasoned, he’d get the message – she wasn’t interested. He couldn’t exactly request back-up when he was harassing her.

  But the fear had gripped her. She pulled over obediently, and sat once again with the hand-brake applied. Her heart was pounding in her mouth as she stared at her rear-view mirror, desperate to see a different police officer get out of the car this time.

  It wasn’t a different police officer. It was the same one. Shit.

  Sergeant Knight seemed to be in a very strict mood, as he reached the side of the car.

  “Can you switch the engine off please madam, and come and take a seat in the police car.”

  “Why… what am I supposed to have done?” Mel tried to inject a cocky edge to her voice, but it didn’t carry through. She sounded scared, and she heard the fear herself. She was blushing.

  “Can you switch the ignition off please madam, as I have requested?”

  Mel turned the key and the car stopped vibrating. The engine went silent. Her heart was thumping high in her chest. Her pulse felt as though it was bursting out of her throat. This guy was a grade A, first class, certified freak, she thought as her mind began racing. Mel was thinking fast, her mind was whizzing with ideas, thoughts of what to do. She needed to get away from this very fucking weird bastard.

  “I’ll phone the police. I mean it. If you don’t fucking leave me alone.” Mel’s voice was clearer this time, and the anger was unmistakable. Sergeant Knight laughed, a big, genuine laugh that came righ
t from the very pit of his stomach, forcing his head back as the laughter escaped his

  mouth. “You think I’m joking?” said Mel. Her eyes were bulging out of her head. She had never, ever, felt so enraged by another human being. Her fear was now subsiding, and her anger was coming to the fore.

  “I am the police, chucky egg.” The sarcastic grin on the sergeant’s face made Mel want to lash out. She had to fight her self to remain still. She wanted to wipe that disgusting smirk off his revolting face, but she had enough self-control to know that violence wasn’t going to help. Mel wasn’t finished yet, though. She knew that there were rules, laws, procedures designed to protect the public against this kind of thing.

  “You’re harassing me. I will phone the police, and tell them. I’m not even joking.” Mel’s voice was shaking with rage, and emotion. This wasn’t right, and she hoped that her calmly delivered plea would make the policeman realise that he was messing with the wrong person. His smarmy, arrogant expression remained unaltered. He was leaning into the car, as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “Remember sending me this?” He held out his phone, displaying the nude, provocative photograph that she had sent to him the previous week. “And now you want to tell the police that I’m harassing you? Good luck with that one love. You’ll be sectioned!” Sergeant Knight threw his head back again, as he laughed at his own joke.

  Mel was just staring straight ahead. More than anything, she wanted to drive off, but it couldn’t be done. She wouldn’t be able to turn the key and put it into gear and pull away quickly enough. Mel was beginning to realise that this police man was holding something that was much more than a photograph of her. He was holding something that he could use to control her with. And Mel was beginning to realise that now that she had whetted his appetite. He wanted more than just that photograph now.

  “How come you’ve been ignoring my messages?”

  “I haven’t!” said Mel, almost snapping.

  “Well, okay, how come you haven’t replied, then?”

  “What did they say?”

  “You know exactly what they said.”

  “I don’t. I saw one, and then I blocked your number.

  That’s the end of it.”

  “You’re my girlfriend now. You don’t block my number. Pass me your phone.”

  “No I fucking will not!”

  “Okay. I’ll print this photo off and put it up outside your school.”

  “Do it. I’ll report you.”

  “Then I’ll pull your husband over. I’ll show it to him.”

  “I’m not married.” Mel had a new expression on her face now. Panic.

  “That’s not true. I followed Peter today. Look.” Sergeant Knight showed Mel another photograph on his phone. This time, it was the back of Pete’s van.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Eh?” Mel had ranged all of the emotions in the past few minutes, before she’d arrived at this one. Mel had tears streaming down her face. The image of her Pete’s van on the photograph was far more menacing than Sergeant Knight could have ever imagined. She loved that man so much, she would never do anything to hurt him. He was her best friend, her soul mate. If he saw that photograph that Mel had sent to the policeman, he’d… well, Mel didn’t know what he’d do.

  “You’re my girlfriend.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend, you fucking… you’re a freak!”

  “Just pass me your phone, so I can unblock my number and then you can get on your way. Why are you trying to make things difficult?”

  The tears were rolling down Mel’s face as she silently submitted, and rummaged in her handbag for her phone, before handing it over.

  “Good. Now, let’s have a look…” Sergeant Knight was leaning into the car and began scrolling through Mel’s phone. “What have you done, here?” He asked, under his breath as he pressed the buttons and swiped through the screens. It didn’t take him long to unblock his phone number. “There we go, all sorted now.” He tossed the mobile at Mel, and it landed on her lap. She was sat motionless, just staring right ahead through the windscreen, the tears continued to roll.

  “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re making my skin crawl. Just send me the fucking speeding ticket, I couldn’t give a shit if I get banned.”

  “Don’t be so mard. What’s the big problem?”

  “I just want you to leave me alone. Please.” Mel’s windscreen was beginning to steam over. The blue revolving light was still adding drama to the situation. Cars and buses and lorries continued to drive past, many of the drivers were straining their necks, trying to gawp and drive, desperate to see what was going on, and maybe see the driver being told off.

  “You want me to leave you alone? Don’t be so bloody daft. You can’t send me a sexy picture like that, and then ask me to leave you alone. Are you mad?”

  “I’m not mad. What the…” Mel exhaled loudly.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m begging you, please. Just leave me alone. Please.”

  Sergeant Knight stared deep into Mel’s eyes. She looked vulnerable, scared, and begging for mercy. He found that particular expression the most exciting. He smiled appreciatively at her.

  “If you block my number again, you’ll be leaving me with no alternative. I’ll be having words with Peter. Right, get yourself off. And stick to the prescribed speed limits!”

  Sergeant Knight was chuckling to himself as he swaggered back towards his police car. To a bystander, it might look as though he was amused by something that the car driver had said. But in reality, his amusement was concealing something much more sinister. Once he’d got into his vehicle, he quickly turned on the engine and raced off, very narrowly missing the side of Mel’s car, as he accelerated the police car past. A loud hoot of the police siren made her jump, before she watched the hi-visibility luminous yellow and blue colours of the vehicle becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, as the horrible police sergeant continued speeding off towards Eccles.

  Mel sat there a few minutes, she couldn’t believe this ridiculous situation that she had stupidly put herself in. Despite being completely aware that she was late once again for nursery, and picking up her babies, Mel couldn’t shift. She had to find a resolution to this problem, she needed to work out an answer before she could possibly move one inch closer to her home. Their home, her’s and Pete’s and Holly’s and Thomas’s. She wasn’t going back there until she could figure out what the hell she was going to do about this weird, scary, unbelievable situation.

  Eventually, after about ten minutes or so, Mel had a plan. She was going to go home, and tell Pete all about it. All about the copper, about the points. About the text message, and about the photo. It was going to be awful. It was going to be painful. She had no idea what Pete would do, or what he would say. But as Mel Meyer hit the indicator, and pulled off from the roadside, back towards her home and her family - she knew that she had to nip this situation in the bud, come what may.

  *****

  “I’ve managed to get half of my money!” said Pete, slamming the door behind him. His face said it all, he was absolutely buzzing.

  “Wow! No way! I thought that was being forgotten about? How’s all that come about?” asked Mel, pleased to see Pete looking so chipper, and also feeling relieved that her imminent confession would have to be put off for the foreseeable future.

  “I was doing a job over Broughton way, and I ran out of some beading, so I thought I’ll nip up to Cheetham Hill and spin past Sanjeev’s shop on my way over to the hardware shop.” Pete was grinning, he was on top of the world. “And I seen his car parked up outside. Nobody else is about, so I drove past, sat and watched for a bit. I could see him in there, filling all the fucking shelves with stock. So I jumped out of the van, grabbed my axe and went in there. He fucking shat his self!”

  “I bet he did!” Mel was laughing at the expression on her husband’s face.

  “So I locked the door behind me. I went over
to where he was stood, and tapped him on the shoulder. He said “we’re not open yet boss!”

  “Oh my God!” squealed Mel, she couldn’t hide her excitement, as she started stamping her feet.

  “I tell you what right Mel, his face when he turned round and saw me stood there! Fucking priceless! He shat his pants. So I said, “I thought you’d sold this place Sanjeev?” He started denying it, said he didn’t know nothing about it. Said he was going to phone me anyway, because he was worried that I wasn’t going to finish the work for him.”

  “Cheeky twat!”

  “So I said, is that why you’ve finished it all off without me? His face, honestly, I felt a bit sorry for him.”

  “Soft bugger!” sad Mel, folding her arms and leaning back against the kitchen sideboard. She was really enjoying this tale, and it was made all the more entertaining by Pete’s awful impersonation of Sanjeev’s Asian-Manc accent.

  “So I said to him, you better give me my fucking money Sanjeev, or I’ll go out there and I’ll screw the fucking door shut with you inside, and then I’ll throw petrol in the window and burn you alive you snidey little bastard!”

  “Ha ha! Good on you love! I bet he fucking shat himself didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he was reaching for his phone, I took it off him. He didn’t know what to think! So I said get me my money! He said, I can’t, I’ll get you a cheque. So I said fuck that, we’ll go down the bank, now.”

  “And did you?”

  “Fucking right I did. I made him lock his shop up, put him in the van, and we went into Manchester, walked in the bank. The most he could take out was a grand, and here it is!” Pete pulled the perfect wad of brand new, crisp, twenty pound notes out of his work-trousers pocket.