I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series

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I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series Page 15

by K. A. Richardson


  Almost in slow motion, Jacob woke, grabbed Ali’s hand and had him on his knees in a move that was so smooth that Ali almost doubted he had actually had his hand on Jacob’s arm in the first place. He gasped as pain shot through his wrist.

  Through gritted teeth, he said, ‘Tulley, it’s Ali. Now let me go.’

  He watched as Jacob’s eyes widened in shock, saw the recognition set in and then the horror as Jacob realised what the soldier in him had done. He let go of Ali’s hand.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ali. Army background, PTSD. Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. No excuses though, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.’

  ‘You’re a good guy to have in your corner in a fight, Tulley. Don’t worry about it – it’s not the first time I’ve almost cried like a girl and no doubt it won’t be the last. PTSD huh? Must make life tough.’

  Jacob sighed. ‘Sometimes, yeah. It’s like one minute you’re fine, just going about your daily business. Then the next day it’s bam, you’re back in Kandahar or Afghanistan or wherever, just for a second. But that second is as real in your mind as the one before.’ He patted TJ’s hand softly, ‘She knows how to deal when I have an episode. Always has, even before she spoke with my counsellor and learned some of the calm techniques.’

  ‘Did she wake up last night after I’d left?’

  ‘No, she’s been out since last night. The doc said her body needed time to process what had happened.’

  ‘She’s actually awake now.’ TJ’s voice was croaky and muffled, her facial movements restricted by the wire in her jaw. ‘Need water.’

  Jacob grabbed a plastic cup and filled it from the jug on the stand, popped in a straw and held it to TJ’s lips. She sucked for a few seconds, and leaned back into the pillows.

  ‘How come I’m here?’ she asked, directing her gaze at Jacob.

  ‘You were attacked last night. In the car-park at the solicitors. Do you remember anything?’

  TJ’s face paled to an even lighter shade. ‘Attacked? By who?’

  ‘That’s what we’re hoping you can tell us. I’m DI Ali McKay, North East Police. Can you tell me what happened from the time you left the office?’

  TJ closed her eyes for a moment. ‘It was late. I’d been working on the Ferguson case and everyone else had left ages before. I was the last to leave so I had to set the alarm. I locked the back door and walked to my car. That’s … pretty much all I remember.’ Her face twisted into a grimace and she gasped. She looked to Jacob for help.

  His nod was almost imperceptible as he got to his feet, grabbed his stick and left the room to find the nurse.

  ‘If you remember anything else will you give me a call? My name’s on this card. I’ll leave you in peace, Miss Tulley,’ said Ali as he went to leave.

  ‘Wait. I heard him say something, I think he said that he was a father and we had wronged him. It’s possible it’s a client.’

  ‘Anything else stand out about him?’

  ‘His eyes. They were flat. Creepy looking. Kind of like sharks eyes.’

  ‘Ok. If you remember anything else please call me, any time day or night. My mobile’s always on.’

  As Ali left the room Teresa groaned again: her face felt like she’d walked into a steam roller. The nurse followed Jacob back in, and injected some morphine into the cannula in TJ’s hand, and before she knew it she was floating on a sea of clouds.

  12th June, 1220 hours – Whitworth residence, Sunderland

  John got out of bed and stretched, yawning loudly. That was the best he’d slept in forever. When he had got home it had been late, but he’d checked the headlines persistently until news of the attack had been forthcoming. He’d bookmarked the article and had read it multiple times through the night. He was still buzzing, his arm ached from the force with which he’d struck her head and when he closed his eyes he could still see the blood. Unfortunately, she’d survived, not died as he’d hoped. She wouldn’t be the same though. He’d hit her with so much force that her mind would be addled – there was no way she’d be able to identify him.

  Striding downstairs he popped the kettle on and checked his laptop. He already had a list of jobs outstanding –working from home as an IT technician meant people asked for his help whenever the need took them.

  He loved computers. It gave him a sense of enjoyment knowing he could solve problems. What he didn’t like was the fools who needed the IT support. Half of them didn’t even know what the alt key was. He was glad he worked online and on the phone – if people could see his face when he dealt with those buffoons he’d end up getting the sack.

  He checked the emails and organised them into a list, most urgent at the top. It was going to be a long afternoon, but he had enough time to reread the article. He brought up his bookmarks and had a quick scan. His stomach clenched in response to certain key words as he read: attack, injury, life-threatening. It felt good knowing he was the cause.

  If that bitch hadn’t stuck her nose into my business, then she wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed now.

  Turning his attention back to the list of emails, he started work.

  12th June, 1510 hours – Tunstall, Sunderland City Centre

  It had been several days now since he had obtained the lesson notes off Clarice. It was approaching time to give them back to her so no one was any the wiser when she did not go home. No-one had seen his face and nothing would point towards him. He’d been into the town several times now to scope out the club where he knew she’d end up. There would definitely be no room for error.

  Clicking open his fake social network profile, he typed her a quick message asking if they could meet up so he could give her the notes back. He signed it with a smiley face: unthreatening, docile, the norm. Even in his forties he could keep up with the youth of today. His boyish looks helped of course. Most people presumed him to be late twenties, maybe early thirties at a push.

  He sat lost in thought for a moment, and was almost surprised when his computer pinged at him. One of the database searches for Bree had come back, and with a positive result no less. Grinning from ear to ear, he opened the report and scanned the information.

  Well, well, wonders never cease. She’s right here in sunny Sunderland. Although, she goes by a different name now. As soon as I’m done with Clarice I’ll go looking, see how old Bree has been for all the years since we last met.

  Now he knew she lived in Sunderland, and the name she was using, she’d be easy to trace. It’d be a piece of cake to find out where she was living, who she was shacked up with, and even better, it’d be simple to restore the balance. She would die as she should have all those years before. Momentarily, he wondered if her breasts were still as fantastic, whether they still bore his mark of possession. He felt himself growing hard just thinking about it.

  Ruefully, he acknowledged the time and changed his train of thought. Within seconds he was soft, ready to leave the dark comfort of his computer room and head off to the day job. He quite enjoyed it really, had been doing it for some time in one form or another. Despite having access to all the money he could possibly want, sometimes it was nice to go and earn it for himself. This was one of those days. He grabbed his large black bag on his way past the living room, and threw his jacket inside.

  Today is a good day.

  12th June, 1935 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

  ‘Mummy, you know the man who was here the other night? When can I meet him properly? You said I could.’ Grace was lying in bed, propped up on her elbows staring at Ben.

  Ben felt a rush of love – she knew every parent thought their child was special but hers really was. Even at just four, Grace was old beyond her years. She listened intently and picked things up from conversations that a lot of adults would miss.

  ‘Soon. His sister TJ is poorly in hospital, remember? So he’s probably going to be busy looking after her. And she needs him, doesn’t she? There’ll be plenty of time for you to meet him later. Do you th
ink I should finish the story now?’

  ‘Is TJ being a big girl? Like when I fell over and scraped my hand the other day. I didn’t cry did I, Mammy? You said I was a big girl. Is TJ being big too and not crying?’

  Ben sighed a little and put the book down. Grace was plainly too awake to go to sleep yet. Smiling at her daughter, she said, ‘Come give mammy a cuddle, we’ll sit on the chair and chat for ten more minutes but then it’s bed time, OK?’

  Grace flashed her the biggest smile and clambered out of bed and into Ben’s waiting arms. She wiggled for a moment getting comfortable, and rested her head on her mum’s shoulder.

  Ben planted a kiss on her forehead, ‘You, young lady, are spoilt rotten. Now, you asked about TJ. I’m sure TJ is being a big girl and not crying, just like you were when you fell down. Next question.’

  ‘Where’s my daddy?’

  Ben froze in shock. Grace had never once asked about her father – where was this coming from? Hell, where was it going?

  ‘You were brought to Mammy by the angels as a special gift. I was very sad, you see, and you were brought to help me smile again. Your Daddy wasn’t from Sunderland, he was from very far away, and he left before I could tell him you were here. I didn’t know where he went so I couldn’t let him know.’

  ‘You were lost, Mammy.’ Grace’s voice was very solemn as she said the words, so very grown up, and for a second Ben thought her heart might actually crack in two. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

  ‘Jacob is lost too. But we’ll show him the way home won’t we, Mammy?’

  ‘Jacob’s not lost, sweetheart. He’s at the hospital with his sister, remember? He knows his way home.’

  ‘No, he’s lost. But we’ll help him,’ said Grace softly, snuggling further into Ben’s shoulder.

  Ben looked down and saw Grace’s eyelids flutter softly. She was finally getting tired. Content though, Ben set the chair rocking back and forth. She’d put her to bed in a minute. She sat contemplating Grace’s words. Was Jacob lost? Has my little girl picked up on something so deep that most adults would miss it? Or was it just an innocent question from a four year old?

  She didn’t even notice her own eyes closing, her mind going blank with the rocking motion as she dropped off to sleep.

  The bedroom door suddenly clicked open, light from the landing flooding into the bedroom and she jerked awake, blinking her eyes furiously as they adjusted to the bright invasion. She was surprised to see Jacob’s shadow filling the door frame.

  ‘One second,’ she whispered quietly, trying to manoeuvre herself so she could pick Grace up without waking her.

  ‘Let me,’ his voice was soft and he suddenly appeared in front of her. She felt his arms brush against her sides as he scooped her daughter up as though she weighed nothing more than a feather, and lowered her down onto her mattress. It was only as Ben stood that she realised his stick was propped against the chair, and she watched as it went to topple, anticipating the clatter but unable to prevent it. In an equally smooth motion, though, he grabbed it and moved off as she stepped forward to tuck the light summer duvet round her daughter.

  They left the bedroom and Ben closed the door with a click.

  ‘Sorry to intrude, Aoife told me to come straight up.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ her reply sounded false somehow, hollow. ‘Cuppa?’ she added brightly, doing her best to ignore the pounding in her chest. What the hell is it about this guy that has me all to pot?

  ‘So, how’s TJ?’ asked Ben, handing him a steaming mug.

  ‘Well she’s already moaning about wanting to leave the hospital so not too bad. She has to keep the wire in her jaw for a few weeks, the plate in her cheek a bit longer. Her concussion is easing but they want to keep her in for observations again. Her blood pressure keeps dipping apparently, which is a side effect of concussion. I think they’re doing it to stop her getting to her feet too. She was already making sounds about going back to work. The doctors have told her she needs at least two weeks off and she’s spitting feathers.’

  ‘Hard though, being cooped up in a hospital bed. Gives you too much time to think.’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ Jacob smiled at her. His smile suddenly turned into a frown though. ‘She thinks the guy who did it is a client, or at least someone connected to a client. She didn’t remember much when she woke up this morning but now she’s said he told her she wasn’t worthy, that she would be taught a lesson in where women should be, which is well below men apparently. Ali is treating it like a hate aggravated assault. She has to have injury photos taken tomorrow at the hospital.’

  ‘Does she think it was hate related then? I might get asked to photograph – I’m on days tomorrow and I think we’re a bit thin on the ground. She wouldn’t mind would she?’

  ‘Why would she mind?’

  Before Ben could answer, a loud crash sounded in the living room, followed rapidly by a scream.

  Ben was up and out of the kitchen door before Jacob had even realised she’d got up.

  ‘Aoife? Are you OK? What the hell happened?’ asked Ben, her voice shrill with panic as she saw her aunt on the sofa and took in the broken glass spread all over the floor, and the breeze now coming in through the hole in the window.

  ‘I think I dropped off to sleep. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I thought someone was breaking in. I screamed to scare them off.’

  ‘What? Did you see anyone?’ Ben walked to the window and peered out onto the driveway and the street beyond.

  ‘No, love. Just heard the crash.’

  Ben saw the stone lying on the floor by the TV and picked it up thoughtfully. ‘The lights are all on, and there’s the porch light outside which is also on. A burglar would be nuts to think he could get in here unnoticed using a brick. More than likely it was just kids playing silly beggars.’ Her heart was pounding though, echoing loudly in her ears as she spoke the words with a calmness she didn’t feel.

  ‘This little lady must’ve woke up with the noise,’ interrupted Jacob, holding a scared looking Grace on his hip as he leaned heavily on the one stick he was using to navigate. ‘I found her in the hall.’

  ‘Don’t put her down, there’s glass everywhere. It’ll cut her feet to shreds. Let me get the dustpan,’ fretted Aoife, heading into the kitchen.

  ‘Grace, would you mind letting Jacob take you back upstairs while Mammy cleans up this mess? I’ll be up in a minute, OK?’

  Grace nodded silently, her small hands woven into the fabric of Jacob’s shirt as she held on tightly. Aoife came back in and handed her the dust pan and brush.

  ‘I’ll ring the police while you do that. That was nice of Jacob, taking Grace back to bed.’

  Ben ignored the comment and began to sweep. In no time at all she was tipping the fragments into the plastic bin. Aoife had disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to put the kettle on while she phoned the control room. Ben took the opportunity and made her way back upstairs.

  Jacob was sitting in the rocking chair, Grace already asleep and snuggled into his shoulder. He smiled at Ben as she entered, ‘Sorry. She fell asleep and I didn’t know how to put her to bed without waking her from this position.’

  This time, Ben scooped her up and placed her on the mattress, pulling the duvet up and kissing her on the forehead. ‘She’ll be full of questions tomorrow, but for now she’ll sleep. Oh to be a child again, huh?’

  ‘Do you have wood big enough to fit that window lying around anywhere? I can fix it up until it gets repaired tomorrow? Save you phoning repair guy out?’

  Ben scrunched her eyes for a moment in concentration. ‘Yeah, I think there’s some plywood out in the garage. From memory, we used to put it on the grass under the tent when I camped in the garden as a kid.’

  ‘Great. Where’s the garage?’

  ‘Outside the back through the kitchen. You sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Positive,’ replied Jacob, making his way back down the stairs.

  Chapter Fourteen


  13th June, 0840 hours – CSI Department, Sunderland City Centre Depot

  ‘Hey, Ben,’ said Ali, entering the CSI office with a grin. ‘You busy? How’d your class go last night?’

  Ben looked up from the carpet of paperwork concealing her desk and gestured towards it with her hand. ‘Unfortunately busy, yea. Class was cancelled as Jacob couldn’t get someone to cover. How can I help?’

  ‘I know you have a personal connection to TJ and her brother. Would it be OK if you pop out to take some injury photos? I know it’s a pain when they’re not in the studio `cos the lighting and what not is unpredictable, but I could use some now and later photos? I’ve already mentioned it to Kevin and he’s happy for you to attend if you’re not too busy. He said you were on writing statements today.’

  ‘It’s fine, Ali. I don’t mind at all. I’ll pop over to the hospital later this morning – want me to print off your copy of the disc when I get back?’

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Can I be cheeky and ask for your statement too? If I get it all at once it makes it easier to keep track of.’

  As Ben nodded again, he stood from his position perched on the edge of the desk and thanked her before leaving the room.

  Ben felt a little like a storm chaser when she was around Ali. It was like the guy had two settings, whirlwind and tornado. Everything he did was at full pelt. She quite often felt like she’d be left behind in a trail of dust if she ever had to keep up with everything the man did.

  13th June, 1105 hours – Ward 42, Sunderland Royal Hospital

  ‘Doc, I’m fine. I just want to go home.’ TJ was fully aware she sounded like a whiny child but she had really had enough of lying in bed surrounded by the noises filling the hospital ward. The doctor was just about to reply when a loud clatter sounded from the doorway. Glancing round, they saw Ben manoeuvre around a nurse who was picking up utensils off the floor.

  ‘What on earth is all this noise?’ asked the doctor, making his way into the corridor to help her.

 

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