A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1

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A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1 Page 26

by John Stuart Owen


  ‘He couldn’t see. He had to look away as the car came towards him and what with the headrests and tinted windows, he couldn’t tell.’

  ‘What should I do?’ Charlie was rattled.

  ‘Follow them! . . . Is he on track now?’

  ‘Yes. Heading your way; down the Fosse!’

  ‘Dammit Orla, I didn’t want Catherine here . . . Shit!’

  ‘Perhaps he’ll leave her in the car?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m sure you’re right.’ Matt was pumped up now. It was all going to happen.

  ‘OK everyone . . . This is it! Paul, James, downstairs now! Look out for the black Discovery. Orla . . . The Taser! Is it ready?’

  She held it aloft. ‘Ready to go Matt! I’m well out of sight, he won’t see me, but he’ll certainly feel me if he loses it!’

  The phone in Matt’s hand grabbed their attention. ‘OK . . . he’s turning in now! He’s all yours!’

  The seconds ticked by. Orla could hear her own heartbeat. The sound of heavy boots on the stairs broke her from her trance.

  Kevin Crystal appeared, larger than life. He looked scathingly at Matt. ‘I thought you were out today?’

  Not bothering to look up, Matt fussed with some papers. ‘I was . . . but I’m back.’

  ‘Orla said she had a package for me.’

  Matt pushed his seat back and stood facing Crystal; his manner remained abrupt. ‘You’ve got to open it here and sign for it!’ He tossed the parcel towards him.

  Kevin thought about some verbal abuse but what was in the parcel intrigued him; he began to peel away the wrapping. The cuffs fell out with a clatter onto the desk.

  ‘What the! Why would they send me some bloody handcuffs?’

  ‘Because Kevin Crystal, I am arresting you for the murder of Dennis Parker . . anything you say’ . . . Matt didn’t get any further. The cuffs hit him in the face. Kevin grabbed his collar, swearing as he swung a left handed punch at his head.

  ‘You fucking dog Black . . . I’ll see you in hell before you get me!’

  Matt ducked the punch; a fusillade of blows packed with years of hate were traded. A breathless voice yelled out, ‘Now Orla . . . Now!’ Already in position, she levelled the X26 Taser; her target area between the shoulder-blades loomed large. She squeezed the trigger and the two barbed projectiles hurtled across the void between them.

  At that same instant, Kevin ducked and turned away to avoid an incoming punch. The two darts hit home with their full 50,000 volts of venom. The first hit him in the neck, the second went through his closed eyelid and buried itself in his left eye.

  A screaming, writhing form slithered about on the floor, its hands clawing at the pain that had engulfed it.

  The OTF lads piled in and had cuffs on the prostrate Crystal in seconds. All panting and out of breath, they looked down on the mess that was Kevin Crystal.

  Paul looked accusingly at Matt. ‘I thought something like this might happen if we were not in control.’

  Orla was grief-stricken that her action had resulted in such an incident. Although not in tears, she was close. ‘Don’t worry . . . not your fault; he brought it on himself.’ Matt put his arm reassuringly around her shoulder. ‘His ducking and diving was a precursor for him to hurt me; you got him first. Anyway, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer fella! James, we need the paramedics!’

  ‘Already on their way.’

  ‘We should let Charlie know it’s all over.’

  ‘Yes you’re right. Orla, call him in would you.’

  A few minutes later, Charlie appeared; his face puckered up as he looked on.

  ‘Ouch! . . . Mind you, where he’s going, you only need one eye to look out of a keyhole.’

  Orla still upset voiced her displeasure. ‘Charlie! How could you!’

  The siren grabbed their attention. A young man bounded up the stairs, followed by his female colleague. ‘What have we got here? . . . Ooo! Nasty.’ The two paramedics worked on the moaning prisoner. A couple of meaningful jabs had him quiet and sedated and they were ready to go. Once in the ambulance, the young medic sidled up to Orla. ‘It’s been a while detective!’

  Orla looked quizzically. ‘Have we met?’

  He smiled. ‘Yes, my name is Eric; I was there, on your first day “at the office”. The accident at Bow Shot Crossroads, when that young man was killed. Must be a couple of years ago.’

  ‘Oh my gosh! Was that you? My . . . You have filled out!’

  He laughed. ‘You’ve changed a bit yourself. You were always a bit of an eye catcher, but . . .’

  Orla turned away. Eric’s attempt at humour had hit a raw nerve. Her effort to disguise her distress failed miserably; she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

  Eric bit his lip, Shit why the fuck did I say that? He struggled, trying to find the words. ‘Detective . . . It’s Orla isn’t it? . . . Orla, I’m so sorry; I just wasn’t thinking. I was trying to be clever. I wanted to make an impression . . . I guess I succeeded.’

  Desperately trying to normalise the situation, he had now run out of words and stood staring at Orla’s back, her eyes downcast as she dabbed her face with a tissue.

  She turned towards him. ‘Eric . . . I’ve just blinded a man!’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. He shouldn’t have attacked your colleague.’ Instinctively he reached out and held her arm.

  Gently removing his hand, she spoke. ‘It’s all right Eric; I’m OK now. It’s all been a bit much; it shouldn’t have happened. It was up to me to get it right and quite simply . . . I didn’t.’ With her head still bowed, she added. ‘It was nice that you remembered me.’ She looked up, captivated by his smiling eyes. ‘So Eric, how long have you been a Paramedic?’

  Their conversation faltered as attention was drawn to Matt, who was walking over towards them holding his phone to his ear. ‘Orla I can’t get hold of Catherine. No one has seen her since Crystal got here and she is not answering her phone. Oh! Hold on a minute . . . Hi Catherine. Where are you?’

  Orla switched her attention back to Eric. ‘Sorry about that; so where were we?’

  Again, before he could answer, Matt was back. ‘It’s not her . . . it’s the paramedic woman with Crystal. She heard the phone ringing in his pocket. He’s got her Orla! What’s he done with her?’

  ‘Let’s ask him shall we?’ Orla strode off towards the ambulance, Matt and Eric in tow. ‘Eric, what’s your colleague’s name?’

  ‘Robyn!’

  Orla thrust open the door of the ambulance and climbed the step. ‘Hi Robyn! Just need a couple of words with your patient.’

  ‘He’s not in any condition to answer questions. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave; we need to get him to hospital.’

  Orla pushed past the complaining medic. ‘Kevin . . . Where’s Catherine?’ There was no response. She poked him in the ribs and a muted groan escaped from his pursed lips. ‘I’ll ask you once more. If I don’t get an answer, you think you are sore now; I’ll poke the other eye out. Now where is she?’

  ‘Go fuck yourself! Tell Black, he’s seen the last of his lovely Catherine. You can all go to hell!’

  Robyn had had enough. ‘Out please . . . Out! You can’t talk to my patient like that. See how upset you’ve made him. I’ll have to make a report about this. Eric please, we need to get going.’

  Matt’s head was spinning. ‘She has to be at the container depot. Get everybody together. Charlie, you ride up front with me. Tell me where they went?’ Orla climbed in behind them. Matt swung the car out of the drive; the OTF duo, followed behind. Ten minutes later they burst onto the container yard.

  ‘Right! . . . Where to Charlie?’

  ‘Around that corner! It’s the only way to go.’ The two cars traversed all the avenues, but there was no trace of the Micra. ‘He must have a lock up here Matt.’

  ‘How can we find it quickly? Every second counts! Everyone . . . start looking for tyre tracks that lead into a container. Spread out you’ll cover more optio
ns. We’ll go to the office Orla . . . see if we can locate it from there.’

  A tall flight of stairs led up to the office. Matt thrust his way in. A man rose from his chair. ‘I’m busy for the moment, would you mind waiting?’

  ‘Yes I’m afraid we would!’ He flashed his badge. ‘We need to locate a particular container. It is a matter of life and death. There is a car holed up in one of them with a woman captive. I expect her to be injured at the very least.’ Matt was breathless.

  ‘Have you got a name?’

  ‘Yes . . . Crystal . . . Kevin Crystal.’

  The manager pulled a file from a cabinet. He thumbed through the pages. ‘We’ve got over two hundred containers you know. That’s a lot of looking!’

  ‘It’s got to be a ground floor unit so I’ve just halved your search!’

  The man turned the pages slowly. ‘No nothing here; no Crystal!’

  ‘Can you check your banking receipts. There must be a record of stop orders or whatever.’

  ‘Give me your file; maybe I’ll see something.’ Orla reached for the file and began to wade through the names. Nothing shone out . . . then . . . ‘What’s this? KB Agencies!’

  Matt looked at her. ‘Kevin Bennet! . . . It couldn’t be. It’s a chance! What’s the number?’

  ‘74!’

  The manager reached for his coat. ‘That unit is on the ground as well. My man will meet us there with an angle grinder. Follow me!’ Walking briskly past the rows of containers, they turned a corner. ’76;75. . . here we are 74.’ Two padlocks barred their way.

  Matt was on his knees peering closely at the ground. ‘I can’t see any tracks.’

  The search group had begun to collect. The man with the angle grinder pushed his way past. ‘Move aside please, and mind your eyes.’

  A minute later, they were heaving on the door levers; there were relieved shouts. ‘It’s here . . . Where’s Catherine?’ Matt squeezed in, peering into the darkness of the car interior. The smell of exhaust smoke reeked through the container.

  ‘She’s here . . . She’s not moving! We need the medics!’

  ‘Onto it!’ Paul had already made the connection. Catherine was in the passenger seat, her face bloodied from an elbow blow.

  In the confines of the container, Matt was struggling to do anything meaningful.

  ‘Roll the car out; Mind out everyone . . . Clear a space.’ He felt her body. ‘She’s still breathing! The ignition is still on; the car is in gear.’ He shifted the lever to neutral. ‘I think he left the engine running. She must have woken and kicked it into gear, stalling the motor! Is there no limit to this man’s sick mind?’

  Orla picked up on the whispered words. ‘No Matt, I don’t think there is. But it’s over now; time to start rebuilding.’

  The ambulance backed up to the group and Catherine was soon ready for the journey to hospital. Her vitals were slowly improving and she had regained consciousness.

  ‘I knew you would find me Matt’. Catherine was tearful. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve put you through all this heartache and trouble. I’ve been so stupid and selfish!’

  ‘That’s enough. You just need some rest; you’re going to be fine. We’ve got Kevin in custody. He won’t be bothering you again.’

  ‘Time to go detective!’

  ‘Orla . . . Do you mind if I ride in the back of the ambulance? I just want to check that she is OK.’

  ‘Of course Matt. You go . . . you need to be with her. I’ll call you later.’

  Chapter 60

  Catherine’s stay in Hospital gave her time to do some serious thinking. The carbon monoxide had not caused any lasting damage and the cheek fracture had not led to any complications. The most serious dilemma facing her now was how to rebuild her shattered life. Matt had hardly left her side. The day before her discharge, he arrived with flowers.

  ‘For me Matt? How thoughtful. Thank you.’

  Her mother sat by her bedside. ‘Let me get some water for them Catherine; excuse me detective.’

  ‘Nice to see your mother is taking some interest in you.’

  ‘Yes she is a dear. It’s nice to have her fussing over me.’ Mrs. Hunter arrived back; she set up the vase on the broad windowsill. ‘My . . . aren’t they beautiful mother?’

  ‘Yes Catherine, in the right spot . . . and that I always feel is in the garden where they grow. Still, they will brighten this corner until we have you home. By the way detective, the doctors have insisted that Catherine has a complete rest when she leaves hospital. Her father and I will be at her beck and call. We have people in Australia and her sister has agreed to take her in for a while, so as soon as she is well enough to travel she will be on her way. I would ask that you do not make contact with her until she is well and truly over this trauma, the men that have featured in her life have only caused her pain.’

  Matt was rocked back on his heels, ‘I hope you are not including me in that persecution of all things male?’

  Catherine intervened. ‘Don’t worry Matt; my mother does have her moments, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m able, and I’ll be back before you know it.’

  ‘I hope so Catherine! I hope so.’

  ‘Thanks again Matt; I wouldn’t have got through this without you.’

  ‘Yes detective, we will all be eternally grateful for what you have done for Catherine.’ Agnes Hunter’s mask hinted at a smile. Matt left the ward without as much as a backward glance.

  ‘God Mother! I was getting on so well with him and now I’ve got to do it all over.’

  Chapter 61

  Two years had passed since Kevin Crystal had been handed down three life terms. Matt lay on his bed watching the LED display on his radio; he couldn’t sleep. The green figures had him mesmerised. He tried closing his eyes, only opening them when a new minute had appeared; he invariably got it wrong. He watched the hour tick over. It was 2 am. The sudden ring of the phone made him jump. He grabbed the handset. ‘Hello?’

  A husky, sexy voice answered. ‘What are you doing?’

  His face softened; a smile began to form . . . he would play her game. ‘I’m waiting for a call?’

  She giggled, ‘Did it come?’

  ‘I think so . . . When can I see you?’

  ‘That depends.’

  Matt was suddenly anxious. ‘Depends on what?’

  ‘On how quickly you can get to your front door?’ Matt leapt from the bed, taking most of the bedding with him. He careered down the stairs and flung open the door. The cold night air swept in, the slight wind causing small eddies, trapping the swirling leaves in the corner of the porch. But outside there was nothing . . . just darkness.

  There was a tug at his elbow. ‘Matt . . . Matt what is it? You’re all of a sweat!’

  He sighed deeply . . . ‘It was that dream again.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The one where you didn’t come.’

  Her soft hand caressed his body. ‘But I did come . . . Close your eyes.’

  Slowly he began to drift back to sleep, mumbling softly as his breathing slowed.

  ‘Catherine . . . Catherine.’

  The pain exploded in his thigh as a swift upward knee found its home. He fell out of bed, writhing on the floor, half laughing, half crying as he clutched the back of his leg.

  ‘Jeez . . . That was sore . . . God . . . It was only a joke!’

  ‘I told you what would happen if I ever heard that woman’s name again . . .

  Since you are up, you can check on the kids.’

  Orla cuddled back into the duvet; the comfort and warmth embraced her. A smile settled on her lips as she collected her thoughts and returned to her dreams.

  So tell me Eric . . . how long have you been a Paramedic?

  The End

  Thank you for taking the time to read ‘A Killer’s Calling’. If you enjoyed the story, it would be wonderful if you could leave a review on the site where you purchased this book. They can really help the small guys to grow their readership.


  Matt Black is currently involved with another complex murder case.

  Look out for this thriller under the banner of

  INCITE to MURDER II

  Death on a Plate

  Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to Sue

  Without whose love and undying support,

  none of this would have been possible.

  In addition, my thanks go out to all family, friends and to fellow authors

  at Fermanagh Writers, for providing support and critiquing skills

  along the way.

  About the Author

  John Owen was born in Dorridge, Warwickshire. He has forsaken his engineering past to concentrate on writing crime fiction.

  As a young man, a three year sojourn to South Africa ended up being thirty. His travels and time spent abroad, have given him a huge wealth of experience to draw on that would include meeting some nice people . . . and some not so nice, much of which is reflected in his debut novel, “A Killer’s Calling”.

  He is now domiciled in Fermanagh, Northern Ireland.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  About this Book

  Beginning

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

 

 

 


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