Only the Good Die Young

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Only the Good Die Young Page 8

by George Helman


  I mean it as well. She throws the phone. She knows I mean business.

  ‘Please, just let me go,’ she says.

  ‘Can’t I’m afraid. I’ve crossed the line. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to kill you.’

  She’s crying.

  ‘My children,’ she says.

  ‘They’ll be fine without a mother,’ I say.

  I don’t know if that’s true. Perhaps I should let her go. She’s got kids. She’s a mother like my mother.

  I’m doing good so far. There are police cars on the opposite side, heading to where I was. This is great. They don’t expect me in this car. I’m just driving, head down. No one will notice me. They’ll think I’m with my wife, going out to the supermarket for our shopping.

  I’m nearing the warehouse now. I’m pretty worried. The police could be there. I don’t know how long until they turn up. I’ve got to move fast.

  I drive the car right up. There’s no sign of cars, no sign of helicopters. I think I’m safe.

  ‘Get out of the car,’ I say to the woman.

  She tries to run. I’m faster. She’s a fat cow. She’d never get far. She’d have a heart attack. I catch up with her. I pull her hands behind her back. I march her into the warehouse.

  I haven’t got my tools. The whole point of going to the lock up. If only I’d bought some more. If I’d done that instead of going to the lock up I’d have been fine. I’m a dickhead.

  I stick the woman in the cage and lock it.

  She cries out.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I say. ‘Don’t like your new home?’

  I can see now. The old man is dead. He’s laid out, eyes closed, arms crossed. The woman’s done it. She’s cradling his head.

  ‘One down, two to go,’ I say.

  The old lady screams at me.

  ‘You’re evil. You let my husband die. How could you do this? What do you want now with this young woman?’

  I smile politely.

  ‘If you hadn’t killed my mother, I would not be doing this. This mother will die because of your actions. It’s your fault.’

  The mother looks at the old lady. The old lady shakes her head as if I’m cuckoo or something.

  I need some tools. I need a car. I need new credit cards. I need to get out of here.

  Chapter 10

  Shirley couldn’t face the station any more. She hadn’t told them. She didn’t care. Dave was gone. They hadn’t found his killer. They were not a good police force. She didn’t want to be part of it any more. She went to Soho instead.

  In Soho, it seemed like everyone was drunk. It was daytime but there was a busy feel. People spilled out of bars, walking unsteadily. Shirley thought it must be the weekend. It had been so long since she had a day off, she had no idea what the day was. She wandered up to Soho Square and sat down. She could smell ganja. She was on duty. She should be in work. She felt the police badge on the inside of her pocket and wondered if arresting someone would make her feel better. It wouldn’t. Nothing would bring Dave back. Getting drunk was the only answer.

  Shirley got up, and her seat was taken by some tourists. She walked heavily. She wondered if she looked like a police officer. She swung her shoulders and swaggered like Geoff had done. She could do manly. She liked doing manly. She avoided being searched at the door by showing her police badge. The bouncers looked concerned.

  ‘Has there been an incident?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Just having a quick look,’ she said.

  She bounced past them and up to the top bar.

  ‘Ah, what shall I have?’ she asked the barman.

  ‘Cocktails are on happy hour,’ he said.

  ‘Fabulous,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a mojito.’

  She took her drink and went to sit in a good place to people watch. She could feel her phone vibrating. She took a sip of her mojito. There went the job she worked her arse off to get. There went the salary, the pension, all rubbish anyway. She wondered what she’d do next. She would probably do security, be a bouncer in a club with hot girls. She smiled to herself. As she did, the bouncer from outside came up the stairs. She wanted to hide.

  ‘Just having a look?’ he said. ‘Hope you’re not on duty.’

  ‘Having a look at the girls, aren’t I. Whilst keeping an eye out for your sakes of course.’

  He winked at her.

  She’d covered her back. She shouldn’t be impersonating a police officer. They would have sacked her by now.

  At the bar stood a great looking woman. She sucked the life out of her mojito and went up for more.

  She smiled her sweetest smile. The woman smiled back a little nervously.

  ‘I’ll bet you’re here for happy hour,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Yeah,’ said the woman.

  ‘What cocktail do you recommend? My glass is empty.’

  ‘Dunno, I’m having an Iced Tea.’

  ‘No, no. Long Island Ice Tea is too strong,’ said Shirley. ‘No, go for the mojito. Now our barman is a good man and he pours a good mojito. I promise you’ll enjoy it.’

  ‘OK,’ she said, blushing.

  ‘Now I’d buy it for you but we’ve just met and I don’t want to give you ideas.’

  The woman giggled.

  Shirley thought she might be in luck. She heard her phone vibrate again.

  ‘Your phone,’ said the woman.

  ‘I know. I’ll get it later,’ she said.

  The woman looked at the floor, uncertain.

  Shirley thought she’d better at least pretend to look, in case she thought she was avoiding a girlfriend or wife.

  ‘Work,’ she said as she took out the phone. She glanced at it. She looked again.

  ‘No way,’ she said. ‘No way.’

  Across her screen was a text from Geoff.

  ‘Look at this!’ she said to the woman.

  The woman smiled and glanced over.

  ‘Who is Dave?’ she said.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. He’s alive. Look, it says ‘Dave alive’ so that means, if I’m not completely bonkers, that Dave is alive.’

  ‘Who is Dave?’

  ‘My boss. My wonderful boss. Hey, nice meeting you. I’ve got to go make a call.’

  Shirley ran down the stairs and out of the bar. She called the station from the street.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re in trouble. Chief’s not happy with you.’

  ‘Dave though. Geoff said he’s alive.’

  ‘Just,’ said the officer.

  ‘What do you mean? Where is he?’ said Shirley. ‘I’m coming in. I’ll be there in 30.’

  She flagged down a taxi.

  ‘Police,’ she said.

  ‘Wherever you want to go,’ he said.

  She jumped in. They set off south to the river.

  Her phone rang. She answered.

  ‘You’re answering your phone,’ said the Chief.

  Shirley’s stomach fell. Her mind flitted through excuses and found none.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry? Sober up Sergeant, and come in. It’s all hands on deck. We will look into this matter when the case is closed. As I said before, we are under scrutiny.’

  ‘Yes sir. Thank you,’ she said.

  She put the phone down and leaned her head back.

  Shirley spoke to the taxi driver and gave directions to her flat. She leaned back and fell asleep. When she awoke she was outside her block.

  She paid the taxi driver and went in. She nodded hello to a few neighbours as she went up the three flights of stairs to her flat. She got to the door and unlocked it. It smelt of bins. She hadn’t been here for days. She wandered down the hallway and checked every room. She noticed dust, a cobweb. She called Geoff as she got out her duster.

  ‘Where’s Dave?’ she asked.

  ‘In St George’s Hospital.’

  ‘What condition is he in?’

  ‘I’ve not seen him but they s
ay he’s got a massive wound from the hammer and a bruise spreading right across his face. It’s amazing he got out of there.’

  ‘Do we know how he did?’

  ‘Well, we think he’s concussed. He seems very confused. The woman he escaped with seems in a better condition, mentally anyway.’

  ‘Shit. He’s going to be alright though, yeah?’

  ‘The hospital haven’t said.’

  ‘I’m going down there.’

  ‘He might not even recognise you at the moment.’

  That put Shirley on a downer. She downed some water and some coffee. She’d better not drive yet. She ordered a taxi to the hospital and took the bin out on the way down.

  At the hospital she showed her police badge and found Dave’s room. There was a police officer outside. She asked him how Dave was.

  ‘Not good,’ said the officer. ‘See for yourself.’

  Shirley went slowly into the room. She walked over to the bed. It was good to see him.

  ‘I’m sorry I wrote you off,’ she said.

  He turned his head towards her and she saw the bruise that spread from his temple, out over his eye, and across his nose.

  ‘You look great,’ she said.

  ‘So I’ve been told,’ he said.

  ‘Are you with it then? I heard you wouldn’t recognise me.’

  ‘You’re Daffy Duck,’ he said. ‘Sergeant supreme.’

  Shirley smiled. He seemed completely himself, if a little tired.

  ‘So tell me about the great escape,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘I feel very bad. I left Stephen behind.’

  ‘Stephen? Is that another victim we don’t know about?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ said Dave. ‘He’s been there a long time.’

  ‘I don’t know the details yet. Dave I went AWOL.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah, I had to grovel to get back on the case.’

  ‘Well, you’re entitled seeing as you’re the best sergeant they’ve got.’

  ‘Next time I’ll have more faith in you. I really thought you were dead.’

  ‘Really? Where’s your detective’s hunch?’

  ‘I know. I’m rubbish. I need to rely on yours, couldn’t do it without you.’

  He closed his eyes, then tried to open them again.

  ‘I’ll let you rest,’ said Shirley. ‘No doubt you’ll be busy giving details all day tomorrow. I’ll see what I can find out about Stephen for you.’

  ‘My brother,’ he said.

  ‘I guess you got close,’ she said.

  Shirley went back to the station. She felt sober enough. It was great walking in and knowing Dave would be back. She sat down at her desk and Dave’s desk didn’t loom over her now.

  ‘I still know nothing,’ she said to Geoff.

  ‘I’ll fill you in. Dave escaped from a rented garage in Norbury. Inside we found two bodies, killed with, we think, the killer’s tool set.’

  ‘Makes sense. The two bodies been identified?’

  ‘Not formally but we’re pretty certain it was Mrs Mckinckley and Mr Thompson.’

  ‘So how did Dave survive?’

  ‘He was kept alive. Seems the man only kills older people. Dave was too young to die.’

  ‘How strange,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Yeah, this guy is a psychopath without doubt.’

  ‘So what happened to Stephen?’

  ‘We don’t know who Stephen is. Dave seems to think Stephen is his brother who was captured by Richie years ago. We haven’t found trace of him.’

  ‘Stephen,’ said Shirley. ‘Is that Dave’s brother who died? He was talking about him.’

  ‘I’ll look into it,’ said Geoff.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Shirley.

  She hoped Dave was alright. It didn’t seem possible that Stephen was alive.

  ‘Has Chief called Dave’s mother?’ she asked.

  ‘Dunno. Ask him.’

  Shirley looked over at the door. She didn’t know if she could face the Chief yet. She thought about what she would say. She went over it in her head as she went over towards his office.

  Before she had a chance to knock, the Chief came running out. Shirley stumbled backwards out of his way.

  ‘Oh, you!’ he said. ‘Come on. We’re getting a Firearms Team and we’re going to Bermondsey. It’s all hands on deck. Come with me.’

  Shirley followed him down to a van and they set off.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘An officer traced the credit card from the van Dave escaped in. The same card bought a warehouse on the docks. We need to capture him before there are any other deaths.’

  ‘The missing elderly couple,’ said Shirley.

  ‘And another woman. A younger woman this time. Has no one filled you in?’

  ‘No, I was at the hospital. I just got here.’

  ‘He escaped in a car. Stolen from a mother and two children who were waiting for the husband to come back from the shops. He let the children go. We found the mother’s phone on the roadside. We knew he was in the area. We’ve got him now.’

  ‘He’s widened his pool,’ said Shirley.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Younger victims.’

  ‘It is possible that Inspector McDonald’s escape might have precipitated it. We need to catch this man. He’s beyond dangerous and our jobs are on the line.’

  His job was on the line. Shirley’s could be too if she wasn’t as polite and diplomatic as could be.

  ‘If we want to keep our jobs,’ said Shirley, ‘Perhaps we could pour more resources in and keep one step ahead of him.’

  ‘I am doing everything I can, sergeant,’ said the Chief.

  He scratched his head.

  Shirley looked at his shaking hands. She had tried to keep an open mind about the Chief but she could see now, that he needed to retire.

  ‘Where do you think he will strike next, sergeant?’ said the Chief, changing the subject.

  Shirley sighed.

  ‘He will aim mainly for elderly people though surely,’ said Shirley. ‘They are easier to kill.’

  The van was travelling so fast, Shirley could only see a whirr of buildings. She couldn’t place herself. The radio went.

  ‘Helicopters are on site. The building is alight. Fire emergency.’

  Shirley just hoped the killer was in the building.

  They turned a corner and slowed. Shirley could see the warehouse burning ahead. The fire engines would not be here for a while.

  ‘We need to go in, sir,’ said Shirley. ‘The victims may be alive.’

  The Chief nodded and ordered the Firearms Team to go in.

  Shirley went up to the front. A lot of petrol had been used. She could smell it. The Chief followed her.

  ‘You were right,’ he said. ‘The cameras from the helicopter show two bodies moving inside. They seem to be caught inside something.’

  Shirley wanted to go in. She wanted to grab a gun from the Firearms Team and shoot the killer. That was against regulations. She stood and watched as four firemen came out carrying a cage. They put it to the ground in front of her and she heard coughing.

  She went closer as they cut the cage open. A younger woman crawled out and sobbed on the ground. Shirley rushed to her. She lay her on her side.

  ‘The man,’ she said. ‘Did he get away?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Shirley.

  The woman collapsed in coughing and a paramedic came over.

  ‘I’ll take it from here,’ he said.

  ‘How long ago did the fire start?’ asked Shirley.

  ‘Not long. You got here fast,’ said the woman.

  Shirley looked over to see an elderly lady being seen to by paramedics. Another person was still in the cage.

  Forensics were gathering round. Shirley felt a shot of empathy run through her. That must be the elderly man. He must have died. She looked over at his wife.

  The paramedics were concerned she
could see. One of them shook his head at the other as they lifted her onto a stretcher. Great, that meant more deaths. A bigger body count and still no sign of the killer.

  Shirley went in search of the Chief. He was on the phone.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ he was saying. ‘No, we haven’t found him. No.’

  ‘He left not long before us,’ said Shirley. ‘Are we looking for him?’

  The Chief looked cross.

  ‘Get back to the station, Sergeant. We need leads.’

  Shirley was fuming. She didn’t know how they could have lost him. She saw a van setting off and ran after it. It stopped.

  ‘Lift to the police station please,’ she said to the open window.

  ‘In you pop,’ said an officer.

  As she went to get in, he drove the car forward a little.

  ‘Not funny,’ she said.

  ‘Where’s your sense of humour?’ he asked.

  Shirley got in the car. Maybe she should laugh at the situation but she was too annoyed.

  Shirley was up all night in the end. They searched all ports. They searched the M25. They searched every CCTV camera on every street in London. It was time consuming and it was wasted time. Richard Henders was not found.

  Shirley decided to visit Dave again. He might have picked up some clue. She drove to St George’s.

  In his room sat a woman. Dave looked sound asleep.

  ‘Hello,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’m David’s mother.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Shirley. ‘I wanted to talk to you. I’m his partner.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ said his mother.

  ‘I mean his work partner. At the police,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Oh right,’ said his mother.

  ‘Can I ask some sensitive questions?’

  ‘Go ahead,’ said Dave’s mother.

  ‘Dave had a brother who died,’ said Shirley.

  ‘Yes, that was Stephen. He got into drugs, poor lad. We lost him.’

  ‘To an overdose?’

  ‘Yes. He owed money to a drug dealer. We think he gave him a wrong dose on purpose. David was away in the army at the time. He didn’t come home for the funeral. I think he was a bit ashamed of his brother. I’m sorry for that because they got on so well as children.’

  ‘This is an awful question I know, but did you identify the body?’

 

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