HE WILL FIND YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘It is time.’ He reached further into the truck and pulled a length of rope from the back. One end was already tied off as a large loop. Jack could only watch as he moved back to the stricken man, whose eye movements had become even more frantic, his moans higher pitched. His torso was lifted, enough for the rope to be pulled behind his back, under his arms and across his chest. He was lying back down, the loop pulled tight around him. His eyes had now stopped their searching and were fixed straight up as they followed the smaller loop at the other end of the rope that was dropped slowly over the tow bar directly above him. The hooded man pulled it tight and when he straightened up, he stared right at Jack and took something from his waistband. Jack still held the torch and it meant there was no disguising the fact that his hands were shaking.

  The hooded man had a knife, an ugly thing with a jagged edge. He held it out so that Jack could take hold of the handle. It wasn’t a request. Jack tried to grip it firmly to try and control the shaking.

  ‘What do I do with this?’

  ‘When the time is right, you will cut him loose.’

  ‘When the time is right?’

  ‘You will know.’

  ‘What about now? I’ll cut him loose now! I mean, come on, man! What are we doing here, dragging him behind us?’

  ‘Yes. Get in the back.’

  ‘This is madness!’

  The man had started towards the driver’s door, but he switched back and made up the short distance back to Jack. He pushed himself up so close that he almost doused the torchlight completely. His eyes glinted. ‘My task is this . . . his death or yours. You can cut him loose now if you wish, you will spare him, but you will take his place.’ The man cocked his head and his lips curled up at the edges. ‘But you won’t. You will cut him loose when you are sure he has left this world. I can see that. You should know that he was given the same choice.’ He turned away again.

  The driver’s door closed and the engine fired. Jack swept the torch to the back of the truck. The man lying on the ground was staring over at him, his chest was rising and falling, his lips fidgeting. He was starting to get more movement back and his head was rolling gently from side to side. His arms looked a little more controlled and it looked like he was trying to reach out to Jack. He was pleading. The engine revved, snapping Jack’s attention away from the tethered man. He focussed on climbing into the back of the truck. He looked down at the knife, heavy in his hand, then was thrown to his knees as the truck started forward with a jerk. The shriek from the tethered man was instant, high pitched and panicked. He could hear the sound of a mass being dragged slowly, distinctive over the crunch of the tyres. Jack dared to look over, pointing his torch downwards. The man was being turned on the spot as they straightened up. He was to be pulled feet first; the bastard had laid him out the wrong way round so he could watch himself being hitched to the truck! His eyes were wide in terror. Jack switched off the torch. They moved slowly to the edge of the road and then the brake lights came on, giving the mist a blood-red hue. The truck turned onto the black ribbon of tarmac and picked up speed. The reaction was immediate. Jack turned away from the horror, but there would be no closing his ears to the tortured screams.

  Chapter 7

  Tuesday

  ‘You just step out of the shower, DS Ives?’ Maddie looked up towards the booming voice of Vince Arnold as he strode the length of the Major Crime office. It was just after 7 a.m. and the room was largely empty. She had come in early to try and put a dent in her paperwork. Vince was a distraction she could do without, but he seldom failed to make her smile. There was a young-looking officer with him who folded his scrawny arms across his front, his stance mimicking Vince in posture if not in stature. Vince was a gym bore, the sort who judged others by how much they could ‘bench.’ It was an aspect of him that provided limitless ammunition to poke fun at his one-size-too-small uniform T-shirts. The officer stood next to him was at the other end of the scale. He unfurled his arms to push his glasses back from where they had slipped down his nose. Maddie scanned his force number and got an instant confirmation that he was brand new.

  ‘Not quite, Vince,’ she said. ‘I just about managed to fit in a run this morning, but there wasn’t quite time for my normal drying and beauty regime.’

  ‘You coulda fooled me, Sergeant!’

  ‘I reckon I do, too. Every time I try.’

  Vince turned to his crew mate. ‘Me and the sarge, here . . . we have a bit of an understanding, see. We both fancy the pants off each other, but we know we need to be professional in the workplace. It’s a constant battle, but we’ve had plenty of practice.’ Vince’s laughter boomed around the empty desks and dimly lit offices that made up the Major Crime floor. His skinny colleague tried to smile, but looked awkward. Vince whacked him enthusiastically on the back. He bowled forward, the blow nearly taking him off his feet, ‘I’m only joking, lad! I’m wearing her down though — I swear it. She just won’t admit it just yet!’

  Maddie was nonplussed. The probationer next to him still looked awkward. Vince didn’t have the ability to know his audience sometimes. New recruits often left training school with all sorts of rubbish in their heads about the need to challenge inappropriate colleagues and other ways to alienate themselves very early on. This was just the sort of conversation that could end up proving difficult for all of them. She decided to move it on before that happened.

  ‘You might not have picked up on my hint, Vince, but I was up at five for a run in the cold and the dark so I could get into work early and clear my paperwork. That’s quite an investment to be able to be left alone. Did you want something?’

  ‘See what I mean!’ Vince nudged the poor lad, who was still straightening his glasses from the last strike. ‘I understand, Mads. I’m not here to get in the way. I was after the old man. You seen him yet?’

  Maddie glanced at the time displayed on her computer screen. ‘No, actually. He’s normally here by now.’

  ‘You two lovers have a barney?’

  ‘Funny you should say that; he’s not been in the best of moods. Hopefully he’s having a lie-in this morning. Maybe that will sort him out.’

  Vince scowled. ‘Can you imagine Harry Blaker lying in?’

  ‘Fair point. I’m sure he won’t be long. Anything I can help with?’

  ‘Nah, I just wanted to talk to him about something that might improve his mood is all. Daniel Wootan is wanted. Some theft overnight from the BP garage. Small fry, but it’ll be enough to stir up his recall.’

  ‘Daniel Wootan?’

  ‘You know about Wootan right? And the boss?’

  ‘Remind me?’

  ‘He was driving the car . . .’ Vince, the man with no volume control, suddenly stopped to check his surroundings, then bowed his head and lowered his voice. ‘The car that hit him. His wife copped it. The boss damned near lost his hand. He’s wanted.’ Maddie’s expression must have given her away. ‘Shit! I thought you would know! I thought you guys were close?’

  ‘I knew it was a car accident. I didn’t know how or who. It’s not the sort of thing we talk about.’

  ‘Shit! You mean not the sort of thing Harry talks about. Don’t let on, yeah? I’ll pop back in and talk to him later. I thought you’d be all in the know about it. Sorry, Mads. Forget I said anything.’

  ‘Come on, Vince! I can’t forget, can I? I’ll pass on your message. I won’t tell him you gave me the story. Do you know what happened?’

  Vince looked uncomfortable — a rare sight. ‘Yeah, but . . . I mean he ain’t the sort of bloke you talk about, you know. I figured Harry had told you — turns out he ain’t. I probably shouldn’t be the one who does.’

  ‘But you were happy to talk about it in front of your mate, here.’ Maddie flashed angry. ‘Is he a close friend of Harry’s too?’ She backed down just as quickly and regretted the gesture towards the probationer. The young officer looked to be praying for a ground-swallow.

  ‘You’re right. I wasn’t go
nna talk details. Si, do you mind doing the car checks, yeah? Me and the skipper need a quick chinwag and then we’ll be good to go.’ He passed over a set of car keys and Si snatched them up with obvious relief at the excuse to leave. They both watched him go.

  ‘So?’ Maddie said.

  ‘Ain’t nothing much more to it, really. The boss was in his car, going round one of the industrial estates for bathroom tiles or something. Going about his business. Our scumbag is driving some old shit heap, his missus does a shoplifting at the supermarket nearby — they get like a couple of hundred quid in perfumes or whatever — and they’re off. A cop car pulls out behind them and shows them the lights and he puts his foot to the floor. He was never getting away, not round there. But he’s a scag, he was desperate for his hit so he gets the mist. He pushed his way through a red light, picked up some speed and the boss was crossing in the flow of traffic at the same time . . . They reckon he hit the passenger door square on . . . You get the rest.’

  ‘Jesus . . . His wife. . .’

  ‘At the scene. They worked on her for a while. He did himself to start with — one-handed. Shit day out, Mads. Sorry, love, I really thought you’d know.’

  ‘Don’t be. I should know. Especially if this guy’s back out. When was this?’

  ‘The shit did like five years. Maybe less. It was a sudden release, the sort we don’t even get told about until after it happens. You’d think they’d do better with some dirty fucker who killed a copper’s wife. He was released to a halfway house in Maidstone. He’s on licence for another three years. He came out on Thursday and we all knew he’d come back down this way. We all said then that we’d do anything to get his licence revoked. I figured I might be able to stop him with his score in his pocket or summin’, but seems like he was more determined to go back to jail than we coulda hoped!’

  ‘So what’s the job?’

  ‘Named offender. CCTV image of him in the twenty-four-hour garage up town round the time some whisky goes missing. I haven’t seen the footage to see how good it is, but just being there and being nicked should be enough for probation to stick him back in. Fucking wants to be.’

  Maddie nodded. Probation had strict conditions for offenders released from prison early. Any breach would see them returned to prison for the remainder of their original sentence at least. They didn’t even need to commit a new offence; just behaving badly could be enough. This sounded like it had a good chance.

  ‘Sounds positive. What’s your message for the boss? Just that he’s wanted?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m in on overtime today, nicking outstanding offenders. It’s either a lovely coincidence or fate! Anyway, someone checked with a snout who must be at the house. Seems our man got home a couple of hours ago. If he’s been grafting all night, I reckon he’ll be in an opium-induced coma by now! Easy. Best get going though — oh and I don’t intend on being gentle!’

  ‘I’ll tell him.’

  ‘Just don’t be obvious that I told you all about it, yeah? Maybe he’ll tell you the same story.’

  ‘I won’t hold my breath.’

  Vince grinned. ‘I’ll text you if I get him in. We’ll probably take him into Maidstone custody, but you can break the news. Then I say we all go out for a celebratory dinner! We don’t have to invite the boss, though . . . you know . . . if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Nice try, Vince. How about you get him in first.’

  Vince’s laugh boomed, his volume control broken again. She could still hear him when he pushed the door open at the other end of the room. It thudded off the wall before falling shut. He never did anything quietly.

  It was ten more minutes before Harry Blaker arrived. Maddie hadn’t done another thing of her own work. She’d considered interrogating the computer system for information on Daniel Wootan but knew that every keystroke was recorded on the system. Instead she checked the weekly briefing page that had a section for prison releases; she had every right to be browsing that. Sure enough, a Daniel Wootan peered back out at her. He wore a lopsided smile, his head lifted slightly so he could jut his chin towards the custody camera. If it was a look of defiance it was a poor one when accompanied by shrunken cheeks, pale skin and bags under his eyes, all the calling cards of an addict. He had sandy hair, short around the sides, but with tight curls bunched up on top. The headline underneath read: PRISON RELEASE — DEATH BY DANGEROUS DRIVING. LICENCE EXPIRES 2022. MANAGED BY MAIDSTONE PROBATION. CONDITION NOT TO BE IN THE FRONT SEAT OF ANY VEHICLE. Maddie was pretty certain that he wasn’t allowed to steal from petrol stations either. Harry’s arrival caught her out. His movement near her desk panicked her to close her screen down.

  ‘Maddie.’ His greeting contained his standard growl. His head was bent and he didn’t look up.

  ‘You’re late.’

  Harry slipped off his waxed jacket to hang it on the coat stand and peered over. The scarring on his cheek dimpled as he bit down, perhaps suppressing his first reaction. It was already clear that his mood hadn’t improved. ‘Or twenty minutes early.’

  Maddie tried to soften him with a smile. ‘I know. I was joking. I don’t think I’ve ever beaten you in is all. I was getting worried about you.’

  ‘I had some things to do before work.’

  ‘At seven in the morning?’

  He shot a look that she had come to recognise as a warning then moved towards his office. ‘I’m going to make a coffee. You want one?’

  ‘Yeah, why not.’ He swept her coffee cup up and moved away. ‘Vince came down to see you!’ she called after him.

  ‘Okay?’ Harry didn’t slow. He was almost at his door.

  ‘Something about Daniel Wootan?’ Harry stopped in the doorway. He didn’t turn — not straight away. He had her cup in one hand and his other reached out for the door surround. ‘I don’t know the name but he said you might.’

  ‘What was the message?’ Harry was now looking over at her.

  ‘He’s wanted. They’re going out to scoop him up this morning. Apparently it’s enough to ruin his day. He’s on licence, so Vince said. Not sure what it has to do with Major Crime, though?’ Maddie held her breath.

  ‘Okay.’ Harry moved into his office. She could see him through the glass. He pushed his chair back and stood at his desk. He picked up his own mug. The kitchen area was a short walk from there, but he stood still, as if suspended for a moment, as if unsure what to do next. Maddie stood up. She sauntered into his office, making a show of looking around.

  ‘Did you take the chairs out of here?’

  Harry looked up. ‘Yes. People kept sitting in them.’

  She smiled, still trying to act as casual as she could. ‘Ever the gracious host!’

  ‘Was there something you needed?’ Harry’s irritation was clear.

  ‘Well, that coffee you promised me for one. I was just going to offer to make it — seeing as how you appear to be lost in your thoughts!’

  ‘Fine.’ He put the cups down roughly on the desk and pushed them towards her.

  Maddie didn’t pick them up. She waited for him to look back over at her. ‘Who’s Daniel Wootan, Harry?’

  ‘Why are you asking me?’

  Maddie shrugged. ‘Your reaction.’

  ‘I didn’t give you a reaction. You’re asking me because you already know.’

  ‘Already know?’

  ‘That’s why you’re in here, right? Vince delivered the message; he probably came up here all excited and you asked him why. That man would tell you anything you wanted to know, so now you do.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because it makes a difference! To you, to your work, to everything! What if we were to come across him?’

  ‘Won’t happen.’

  ‘It could. And this is the reason you’ve been in a foul mood for the last two days. And you know what? That’s fine. It makes sense. This must be difficult, horrible in fact. But I want you to talk to me if you’re suffering. I might b
e able to help.’

  ‘I’m not suffering.’

  ‘Yes, you are. And you should be. Last night this Wootan clown was shoplifting in Canterbury. That means he’s on our doorstep. Don’t tell me that isn’t a consideration for you when you go about your business.’

  Harry retrieved his chair and sat down. ‘Well, we shouldn’t need to worry about that now, should we?’