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

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Are you crazy?’

  ‘Crazy? I am on the brink of greatness. We are! Do you wish to remain on the side of the ordinary, pushing other people’s items through your scanner at the supermarket?’

  ‘I m-mean . . . H-how even?’ Jack searched across the table as if it might provide some answers. ‘How are you going to get access to somebody like that and hope to get away with it?’

  ‘I made contact. She came to me but we did not meet. She does not know who I am. But I was patient. I followed her movements thereafter. She has a routine. We have an opportunity. But it is soon. We must move.’

  ‘I can’t! We can’t do this! What are we doing?’

  ‘This is your chance to be something. People like you, like me, we cannot succeed any other way. This is how we become someone.’

  Jack took a moment to check the café was still empty. ‘Greatness is doing in a copper, is it? My life before really wasn’t so bad after all. I would really quite like it back.’

  The man leaned forward further this time, forcing Jack backwards.

  ‘There is no back. There is only forwards or the path falls from under you.’

  Jack shook his head. He could feel his chest tightening. He was going to have to go through with this. The man was still talking in riddles but he was clear enough: there was no longer an option.

  ‘This is it? Nothing more after this?’

  ‘Our final reckoning!’ The man stood up and stared down at Jack’s coffee. It was still untouched. Jack stood up too. Suddenly he didn’t feel like he needed anything to make him feel more awake. He snatched a desperate glance towards the counter. There was no sign of the waitress.

  Chapter 19

  Friday

  When Jack came to his senses, the first thing he was aware of was the breaking dawn. The sun was low and piercing and he had to turn away from it instantly. His exhaustion must finally have got the better of him for him to have dozed off.

  After leaving the café, he’d been taken up to the front passenger seat of the truck. Conversation had been stilted at best then dwindled to nothing. He had tried to get some sort of clue of what was expected of him, of what they were doing. He gave up quickly. They had stopped at a clifftop location in his home town of Langthorne and occupied a space among a few other parked vehicles. There had been a child’s play park on their left side and beyond that was an elevated view of the sea. When the truck fell silent he had tried again with his questions, but he still got nothing. Then, with just an hour of darkness left, they had moved again. It had been a short drive to the other side of the town and down a steep, unmade hill to where they stopped again. This was where Jack was now squinting at the rising sun. They were at sea level and almost on the promenade itself.

  The sea dominated as he peered out at it over the empty driver’s seat at the sunrise. On another day he might have appreciated the view, but that morning it was the last thing on his mind.

  He reached for the door handle, suddenly aware of how hot and uncomfortable he was. He stepped down from the truck to stretch and look for his missing driver. There was no sign of him. A chilly breeze swept in off the sea and he pushed his hands into his pockets. He felt the business card that had been tossed at him in the café, the one with Maddie Ives written across its front. He’d spent much of the last couple of hours with the card in his hand and must have read the details on it a hundred times or more, each time pondering a different idea as to how he might get out of this mess. At first, he was going to wait for an opportunity to text a warning to the number. Then he decided he would just make a run for it when they pulled up somewhere, and when he got far enough away he’d call this DS Maddie Ives direct — or even just 999. He reckoned if he gave them the whole story they would have to help him. They would have to keep him safe at least — him and his mother.

  But he hadn’t. He hadn’t done anything. He’d asked a few questions, trying to find out what he could, and when that had failed, he’d just sat there waiting, not really knowing what for. He became resigned to letting this play out; there was nothing else he could do. Maybe it was this resignation that had relaxed him enough to finally get some sleep.

  Now he had daylight, he took the opportunity to have a look around. The ‘road’ they had driven down was more a coarse ribbon of crushed stones and grit that moved into and across the expanse of rough standing where they were now parked. Underfoot was a firm layer of worn pebbles with determined sprigs of wild grass jutting out among assorted lumps of driftwood. The grassy area and the beach itself were separated by a strip of promenade, which looked out of place with its smooth, flat surface and sharp edges.

  The thud of something against the metal bed of the truck made him jump and he jerked his head to the source. The man appeared, standing at the back end of the truck and staring at Jack. He was holding a length of rope in his hands and it was pulled taut across his chest. He had fashioned a large loop at one end. Jack grasped its grim function straight off and the horrific images of a few nights earlier swam to the surface of his memory. All of the questions he had reeled off in the preceding hours were now answered in the form of a length of rope and the excited stare of the man holding it.

  ‘Your hand.’ The man beckoned to him. ‘You have your tool?’

  ‘Tool?’ Jack knew exactly what he meant.

  ‘We go to work. Six times when you work. You must break the skin.’

  ‘Now?’ The device was loose in Jack’s coat pocket. He could feel its weight whenever he moved.

  ‘Now.’

  The truck’s front passenger door was still open. Jack leaned in and fished the metal lump from his pocket. The teeth were still stained despite Jack having scrubbed it. He laid his left hand flat on the seat, palm up. With his right he laid the metal against his skin, teeth downward. He clenched his jaw and twisted it. The pain was immediate, though he didn’t break the skin; he wasn’t applying enough weight. The man must have moved closer; Jack was suddenly aware of his voice in his ear. He pushed in, his hand fell over the metal and he grabbed it firmly to twist it again. He put as much weight through it as he could and Jack screamed in agony.

  His palm ran with blood. The skin around it was white and puckered.

  ‘Four more!’ The man said. He stepped back to let Jack continue. Just resting the metal on his hand was painful now. He knew the remaining twists were going to be agony. He started to feel sorry for himself, his head shaking slowly, wondering what he had done to deserve this. Then he remembered. He remembered what he had done, whom he had hurt, and what he was about to do. He realised that this pain was exactly what he deserved, every second of it. When he twisted the tool again, he pressed with all of his weight. His teeth gritted as he silently cursed his very existence.

  * * *

  Maddie Ives finished tying off the laces on her jogging shoes. She stood up straight to walk away from her apartment and down to the street. She used the walk as part of her warm up, her strides longer and more deliberate than normal. When she got to the High Street she hooked the heels of her feet on a low wall, one after the other, and leant in for a long stretch. Her legs still felt a little stiff from her previous run, when she had pushed herself a little longer and a little faster than she had intended. Today she would take it easier, certainly for the first few miles until she loosened up. She had considered not coming out this morning but Rhiannon’s grudging confirmation that she would accompany her had been the incentive she needed.

  ‘Hey!’ Maddie stood up as Rhiannon approached.

  ‘Hey yourself!’ Maddie replied. Rhiannon started using the same wall to stretch out on.

  ‘Well, this was a stupid idea.’

  ‘You think? You should have said if you didn’t fancy it. I’d have stayed in bed.’

  ‘You mean I don’t have to be here at all?’

  ‘No, you do! But I could certainly have taken a day off. This will be six in a row.’

  ‘I only came out because you made me feel guilty.’ />
  ‘Then I did you a favour! Sooner we get going, the sooner we get back.’

  They walked towards the alleyway that cut through a row of buildings. They had only a teasing glimpse of the sea at first, but its shuffling blue mass opened up in full when they made it to the end. Maddie loved how it constantly changed its appearance to match with its mood. Today there was some cloud cover, but it was thin and with gaps. The sun broke through regularly to change the colour of the water, and added a little sparkle as it did. It was calm, too.

  The promenade looked to be empty of people for at least as far as she could see. It was a big reason why Maddie dragged herself out of bed so early and why she always took the same route along the beach. At that time of the morning she could almost guarantee not meeting another soul.

  They reached the promenade and broke into a loose jog. Maddie’s legs still felt tight, but she knew they would loosen up quickly. She lifted her eyes to a turn in the promenade up ahead. Here the path took a hard left to curve around a part of the coast where the sea had pushed in as if overstepping its territory. The path never came back out as far. Instead it cut through an area of hardstanding then continued into a coastal park with trees and wild grass on either side. Maddie shifted her gaze from the path ahead to where the sun was dipping its toes at the horizon. Maddie felt her lips curl into a smile as she felt the warmth on her face.

  * * *

  Harry was hurried and untidy in pulling the car over. The engine was still running. He could still hear his pulse beating in his ears, still powered by anger. He hesitated to turn the engine off. He didn’t expect to attract any attention. A running car in the middle of Maidstone shouldn’t sound out of place, even at dawn with the sun still struggling to shift the shadows.

  He had to stoop a little in his seat to see the second-floor rooms of the large property. Wootan’s room was on this level somewhere. The curtain positions, the lopsided hedge, the battered-looking wheelie bins — all was identical to the day before. Maybe one wheelie bin was a little more central than it had been; its right side seemed to obstruct the path to the front door. There was no movement anywhere, nor was there likely to be at this time of the morning. Maybe that was the reason he’d made his snap decision. He was awake, he was angry, and there was no one around to see him. He knew he shouldn’t be here, but his restraint was all but gone.

  He turned off the ignition and lingered on the keys in his palm. Stepping out of the car would be another threshold crossed. He knew that he would cross it; there was little point in delaying. He opened the door. The sky was layered in grey clouds that looked to be losing a battle with the sun. He was penned in by tall buildings, and the air was unmoving.

  He sidestepped to get a better view of the door. The bins had definitely moved. He remembered how they had been overflowing; now the lids hung down and there was nothing visible over the top. The rubbish from the outside of the building had been taken away to leave just the scum that was inside.

  He started his walk towards the door.

  * * *

  Jack stared dumbly at the vicious-looking knife that lay across the palm of his right hand. His left hung by his side, a dressing tied tightly across it.

  ‘You know how to hold one of those?’ the man said.

  Jack stayed looking down. He did, of course he did. He just couldn’t bring himself to wrap his fingers round that handle, to hold it like he meant it. Once he did that, he was one step closer to using it. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Give it here!’ The man snatched it back. Jack watched it go. ‘You just take hold of her — it needs to be firm. I will use the blade. I will push this in her face, as close as I can. I will cut her, break her skin to break her spirit. She needs to know we are serious; she needs to know she can’t put up a fight and win.’

  ‘Take hold of her?’ Jack knew his voice was lacking any strength. He could do nothing about that. The man eyed him closely. He had been staring at the knife and it seemed to have increased his excitement. He’d moved it closer to his face to study it and licked his lips. Now his expression had changed to disgust. He was looking at Jack. ‘Take hold of her firmly and move her towards me. I will push this into her face and she will know. Then it is easy. If she picks up that you do not mean what you say, that you are weak, she will fight or she will run. You should know again that the task today is either the two of us with Maddie Ives or it is me on my own with Jack Knight.’

  Jack flinched at his own surname. He knew he had never shared it with the man. Given the previous revelations, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still caught him out.

  ‘Can you do that?’ the man persisted.

  Jack nodded in resignation.

  ‘She will run past. You will need to take her as she passes. With the element of surprise you will need to silence her first. But I say again . . . you must be firm. She must know that you are not someone she can fight.’

  ‘Okay,’ Jack croaked.

  The man reached into the back of the truck and pulled out the rope end over end, making large loops. When it was all out, he hung it diagonally across his body like a sash. He seemed to have a sudden realisation. He moved past Jack to pull open the tailgate of the truck and rummage in a metal box Jack had seen bolted to the floor. When he turned back he was holding another knife, smaller but looking no less vicious. The glint was back in his eye and he licked his lips again.

  ‘When you grab her, push this into her throat! Draw some of her blood. Show her!’ His excitement was peaking. ‘You will get no problems from her.’ He held it out. Jack reached for it. It felt lighter than the previous one. He still didn’t hold it right but the man didn’t seem to care anymore. Jack heard the clunking of the locking system on the truck and then the man was already walking away. He made the promenade before he even looked back. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t beckon to hurry him along or tell him to catch up. He didn’t have to. He knew Jack would follow. He took a firmer grip on the knife and did just that.

  * * *

  Maddie was starting to feel stronger. She always seemed to struggle for the first mile or so and it was always when she got to the area of hard standing at the foot of her dream house that she started to feel like she was getting her second wind. The house was off to her left and elevated high over the promenade. The back garden was cut into zig-zag lines that led to a wooden beach hut two-thirds of the way down. It had a balcony with seating and a steel barbeque. Every time she passed it, she fantasised that she was out on the wooden deck on a summer’s day with a glass of wine in hand, waiting for the barbeque bricks to turn grey.

  ‘That place is mine one day!’ she said. Rhiannon was still alongside her. She seemed to have got comfortable in her stride a little quicker. Her breathing was already more measured, her strides seemed more natural and with the exception of the reddening to her cheeks she didn’t look like she was exerting herself too much. Such was the joy of being young. You could miss two weeks of training and then turn up to pick up where you had left off. Rhiannon cast a glance over to where Maddie had gestured.

  ‘As long as I can come round for dinner!’

  ‘Anytime.’

  Maddie looked ahead. Her favourite part of the run was when she entered the coastal park that she could see half a mile away in front of them. They passed an open-backed truck on their left side. It was beaten up enough to ruin the ambience. Maddie turned away, to where the sea still lapped gently at the shore. She considered that the ugly truck might have ejected a kayaker, but couldn’t see anyone enjoying the water. A dog-walker maybe — and who could blame them? The morning was getting more beautiful with every minute that passed.

  The coastal path approached. It was made up of thin slivers of grey concrete cut through trimmed lawns, with maintained flower beds and freshly planted trees among the native rocks, driftwood, and beach pebbles. And all was to be experienced with that constant sound of the sea sighing gently in the background. She quickened her pace to make for it, now feeling as s
trong as she ever had.

  ‘This a race now?’ Rhiannon exhaled.

  Maddie had almost forgotten she was with her; she had got used to running on her own perhaps. ‘Sorry! I feel good this morning.’ Gazing forward intently, she thought she had seen movement — someone crossing the path a few metres in from where they would enter the shade of the trees. She reckoned it would be her dog-walker from the parked truck. It didn’t matter. She could chirp a pleasant greeting while keeping up their pace. The few times she had walked this route rather than run she had found herself engaged in small-talk when all she wanted was to be left alone. That was the beauty of running; you could avoid all that.

  * * *

  Jack stared down at the knife that hung from his gloved hand. With his heightened awareness he jumped at the movement of a leafy bush shivering in the light breeze. They had walked a short distance, maybe half a mile, to where the path continued through wooded parkland. It looked man-made. The trees were lined up in formation, their roots dug into areas marked out with low fencing and scattered with shredded bark. On the opposite side of the path, his mentor stepped into the trees and was instantly out of sight. There was a steep bank behind a row of bushes on that side and he had said that the elevated view would allow him to see anyone approaching from far along the path. Jack was supposed to take up his own hiding place but the man was already back, bursting out from cover.

  ‘It’s both of them!’ He struggled to contain his excitement. ‘Two!’

  ‘Two?’ Jack’s eyes fell back briefly to the knife in his hand. When he looked up, the man had stepped closer to him, too close for comfort.

  ‘This is perfect. Maddie Ives will know we mean business when we strike down her friend in front of her!’

  ‘S-strike d-down?’

  ‘Maddie Ives is the older woman. Take her as we discussed — a firm grip. But rather than pushing her towards me, hold her so she can see.’