The Detective Jake Tanner Organised Crime Thriller Series Books 1-3 (DC Jake Tanner Crime Thriller Series Boxsets)

by Jack Probyn

  And there was an additional problem. The Nasties were getting hungry again – he could sense it. Jessica the Prostitute had been a terrible experience. Her attempted escape had ruined it for him. It had thrown him off and put him off from performing at his best. His hand still ached from the multiple stab wounds he’d inflicted on her. He needed to do better next time. It needed to be more controlled, more delicate, and he needed a place to be able to dedicate more time to the Communion. Ever since he started out, he’d always maintained the rule of meeting for a Communion at the other party’s location. The reasons were simple. First, and most importantly, it was for security purposes. He didn’t want anybody finding out his home address and dobbing him in to the police. Second, it was for the extra points it would garner him on the leader board. On the infrequent occasion that he had been forced to do it at his house, he’d been extra careful and gone to great lengths to make sure they didn’t know the exact address: he’d often meet them in a communal place and take them back to his house that way. It wasn’t a watertight way to avoid their knowing his address, but it was better than nothing. And now it was time for a change. The past few Communions had been ruined by the threat of a housemate coming home early or somebody walking past in the middle of nowhere. He needed a place. And now that he thought about it, perhaps his tenant’s abrupt departure was actually a gift.

  Lester wandered up to the front door and knocked. It was a one-bedroom house that he’d completely renovated a few years ago. He’d given it a new kitchen. New bathroom. New living room. New bedroom. It was a steal, and he’d given it to the current tenant on an even better rolling contract that required thirty days’ notice for cancellation. It was mutually beneficial for both parties, and he’d never had any issues with them. Except for now.

  The door opened.

  ‘Hi, Sampson.’

  ‘Hi, Carl. Good to see you. Are you well?’ He flashed a smile, and for a split moment he almost forgot that he was supposed to pretend his name was Sampson.

  ‘Never better, thanks. Would you like to come in?’

  Lester entered the narrow hallway without responding. Who did Carl think he was, asking if he wanted to enter the building he owned? It was his house. The scrawny little cunt didn’t own any of it.

  Carl closed the door as Lester turned left into the living room – and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in the window bay was a dark-haired girl. She was wearing a tight pair of denim jeans that accentuated her curves and a backpack over her shoulder. She swayed from side to side on the balls of her feet.

  ‘Hello,’ Lester said surreptitiously.

  The girl spun around. ‘Oh, hey.’

  ‘And who are you?’ Lester asked, intrigued.

  ‘This is my girlfriend, Jessica,’ Carl said.

  Lester just about stopped a puff of laughter from sneaking out of his nose. He extended his hand and shook Jessica’s. It was soft, warm, moist, perhaps a little sweaty.

  ‘You nervous?’ Lester asked.

  Jessica’s face looked taken aback.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Lester continued without realising he’d said it. ‘You have no reason to be.’

  Carl jumped in, standing between Lester and Jessica like a dog protecting its owner from a nearby threat. In his hand he held a thin folder of documents.

  ‘Everything’s in there,’ Carl said. ‘Final bills. All our previous bills as well. Council letters. And an address if you need to forward anything on.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Lester said, taking the folder.

  ‘Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘No.’ Lester threw the folder on the nearby sofa. ‘I think that covers everything. Do you mind if I just wander around the place… you know, make sure everything’s OK? Make sure there’s nothing broken. No dead bodies you’ve got hiding in the cupboard or something.’

  Lester chuckled, but his attempt at humour was not well received. Carl and Jessica stared at him blankly.

  ‘Not a fan of dead people jokes, eh?’ Lester shrugged. ‘Tough crowd.’

  ‘Erm…’ Carl said. The excitement in his face had gone. ‘I don’t have a problem with that. Do you need us here while you do it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lester said abruptly. ‘Please. Just in case I need to query anything. Do you mind if I start in here?’

  ‘No, no. Of course not.’

  ‘Great, thanks. You can leave now. I’d prefer if you were in a separate room of the house. You can leave your things here though, just so I can make sure you’re not going to go running off!’

  Slowly, cautiously, Jessica dropped her bag to the floor and followed Carl out of the living room, holding his hand. As soon as he heard their hushed voices in the kitchen, he set to work. He rushed towards Jessica’s bag, reached inside and pulled out one of her debit cards from her purse, sliding it in his pocket before he placed the bag back as perfectly as he’d found it. Then, for the next few minutes he pretended to carry out a sweep of the house, moving from room to room. He didn’t care if it was torn to bits or if there were scuff marks on the doors and walls. He had enough money to paint over it, and there would still be people looking to rent it from him regardless of what it looked like. They needed somewhere to live, and he could fulfil that need.

  Once Lester was finished, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called them back.

  ‘All clear,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t find anything.’ He extended his hand. ‘You’ve been a great tenant. I’ll be sad to lose the money you’ve been giving me for the past eighteen months.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find someone else quickly,’ Carl said, forcing himself to smile.

  ‘I’m sure I will.’ Lester let go of Carl’s hand and moved over to Jessica. He took her hand in his. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘You too.’

  ‘I hope you two live a very long and happy life together.’

  ‘Right,’ Carl said, grabbing Jessica’s arm. ‘We’ll get our things and go. We’ve got somewhere to be.’

  ‘Where you going?’ Lester asked as he followed behind them.

  ‘We’re going travelling for a while. South America. Then Asia. Might do some work out there while we’re gone. The address we gave you was my mum’s. She’ll be able to take care of anything if you have any issues.’

  ‘Sounds fantastic,’ Lester said, feigning a smile. ‘I hope you have a wonderful time. Now, don’t let me stop you. Go on – get out of here!’

  Carl and Jessica disappeared into the living room, returning moments later with a backpack and a suitcase each. They hurried out of the door and over to Carl’s Mini before throwing their baggage in the back seat and speeding off.

  Lester estimated it had taken them thirty seconds to get out of there. Maybe forty. It was as if they were part of the pit-stop crew for a Formula One team. They’d made it apparent to him that they were in a hurry and that they wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Which was fine for him, because now he had a reason to call them back. He glanced down at his watch. How long should he give them? Ten? Fifteen? No. Those numbers were too high. He needed to shorten it down to a few minutes. Make it seem like he had only just found it. But he needed to prepare. He needed to ready the utensils for the bloodbath that was about to unfold.

  CHAPTER 46

  SPECIAL LITTLE PLAN

  Elliot didn’t know the name of the individual holding the gun at him, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t someone he wanted to spend a lot of time with. His instructions had been simple: call Jake and explain everything. But right now, as he held the phone to his ear and stared into the barrel of the Glock 17, he panicked, his mouth frozen open.

  ‘What are you doing, Bridger?’ Jake said, slowly bringing him around. ‘Where are you? I thought you were supposed to be out of the country?’

  ‘I… I… er…’ He held the script he’d been given in his hands. ‘I’ve changed my mind. If I leave, then they’ll know something’s wrong. It’s safer for me here.’

&nb
sp; ‘What’s wrong? What’s going on?’

  ‘I just need to know you haven’t done anything stupid.’

  ‘Stupid. Like what?’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned anything about what I told you, have you?’

  ‘No. Of course I haven’t.’

  ‘Good,’ Bridger replied. He glanced at the gun and then the owner. ‘You need to keep it that way, Jake. For your own safety. And your family’s. It’s too late. The wheels are already in motion. By Friday, Danny and Michael will be in the witness protection scheme.’

  ‘Why are you telling me all this, Elliot? You told me this yesterday.’

  ‘I just need to make sure you understand. These people are dangerous.’

  ‘I understand, but I can help you.’

  ‘You can’t help everyone, kid.’

  ‘Not unless you let me try.’

  Bridger sighed. The fucking idiot didn’t understand what was going on. He didn’t understand that he was trying to protect him.

  ‘Promise me, Jake,’ Bridger began. ‘Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone. It’s not safe. You’ve got a family to provide for.’

  Jake swore under his breath. The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed through the speakerphone.

  ‘Fine. All right. Fine. I promise. I promise I won’t say anything. But it was a shitty thing, playing me like that. Why did you trust me with your life?’

  A smirk grew on Bridger’s face. ‘Because you’re a good guy, and I knew you wouldn’t do anything with it. But now I just need to make absolutely certain. Because they will find you if you do. It won’t be hard.’

  ‘Tell me who they are, Elliot. Give me some names.’

  ‘When one name disappears, another appears in its place. They’re everywhere, Jake. Everywhere.’

  Bridger rung off and threw the phone into the footwell. The device bounced on the floor and came to rest against his foot. He slammed the steering wheel repeatedly with his palm and groaned.

  ‘Very good,’ the man holding the gun said. ‘Very convincing. Did he believe you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Bridger replied, avoiding the man’s gaze.

  ‘Don’t worry. This will all be over as soon as the brothers are out.’

  ‘What happens then?’

  ‘You’ll get your share. As promised.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ the man said. ‘You’re safe for now. If we need you for other jobs, we’ll be in touch. But if we find out you’ve been spilling your little secrets, we’ll make sure there’s a bullet in this chamber reserved for you. As for the brothers… The Cabal has people who can take care of them. It might not be now. It might be in a few weeks, months, years. All depends on how they fare and what sort of things they get up to. My advice would be to stay away from them.’

  ‘What about Jake?’ Bridger asked, slowly turning towards the man. He had thick, blonde hair, a broken nose and an unkempt blonde beard. ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘Tanner’s his own man. He can look out for himself. But you don’t need to concern yourself with him. The Cabal’s got a special little plan for Jake Tanner. We all have.’

  CHAPTER 47

  BLOODBATH

  Fifteen minutes later, there was still no sign of them. After he’d called Jessica, notifying her that she’d left her debit card behind, Lester had used the time expertly. He had ventured into the kitchen, pulled apart the cutlery drawer and laid out six meat knives in a row across the countertop beside the sink. Afterwards, he wandered to the end of the garden and found the gardening tools that had come included with the tenancy. He picked out a pair of secateurs, a hammer, a handful of five-inch nails and a handsaw.

  As he carried them to the house, his body tingled again. The Nasties were on their way, waiting to be released as soon as he laid eyes on both Carl and Jessica. It was going to be euphoria. His own home. All the time in the world. His own tools. He kicked himself for not doing it like this before.

  And then he remembered. There was soon to be another obstacle he’d need to overcome: the mess that would need cleaning afterwards. Not a problem though. He’d spent enough time on the Dark Web to know that he could ship their bodies off to a pig farm, or maybe he could incinerate their remains in a fire, or perhaps he could chop them up and dissolve their existence in a bathtub full of chemicals. Out of the three, the third seemed the most enjoyable: watching their slow, gradual decay into nothingness.

  A car pulled up outside the property, distracting him.

  He froze. Held his breath. Touched his penis and rubbed his testicles.

  Seconds later, the doorbell rang.

  Lester clapped his hands and rubbed them together. He left the debit card in the kitchen and placed the smallest, most inconspicuous blade in his pocket, then rushed to the door.

  It was Carl.

  ‘Thanks for coming back so quickly,’ Lester said, a smile beaming on his face. ‘I hope you weren’t too far away?’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Where’s the card?’

  ‘It’s this way,’ Lester said, stepping into the house. Carl stayed where he was. ‘You can come in, you know.’

  Reluctantly, Carl followed Lester inside. He took the young man into the kitchen and paused. Carl’s eyes widened as they fell on the apparatus on the surface.

  As the realisation that he was in serious trouble dawned on him, Carl tried to make a run for it. But it was too late. There was no time to save himself. Lester removed the blade from his pocket, grabbed Carl’s head from behind and held him back. Lester outmuscled and outweighed him considerably. It was almost like wrestling with a child. There was nothing the younger man could do.

  Lester plunged the blade into the man’s neck and dragged downwards until he reached his Carl’s collar bone. A fountain of blood splurged from the man’s throat and exploded all over the walls and floor. Lester then let Carl’s body flop to the wooden flooring and watched him drown in his own blood.

  He licked what he could of Carl’s blood from his hands, until they were almost clean, then put them in his pocket as he raced out of the house. It was only a temporary precaution though; as soon as Jessica was in the house with him, he would smother himself in their blood. In the past few days he’d developed a fondness for the taste of it. The metallic tanginess. The thick texture. The sweet aroma.

  He skipped to the end of the patio, turned left behind a set of bushes, and slowed as he saw Carl’s Mini. The vehicle was facing in the opposite direction, which meant Lester had the advantage of surprise.

  He staggered over to the car, feigning injury, and slammed his fist on the passenger-side window. Jessica jolted, her hand flying to her chest in shock. Lester yanked the car door open.

  ‘Jessica, quickly! You have to come quickly. Something’s happened to Carl. He’s collapsed! He’s hit his head! He’s bleeding!’

  Jessica’s face whitened with fear. She unclamped her seat belt, jumped out of the car and followed Lester back into the house blindly. Ah, he thought. The things we do for love.

  Lester made sure she was the first one in. She gasped at the sight of Carl’s body lying there, soaked in his own blood. She attempted to scream, but nobody could hear her. Lester shut the door behind him and wrapped his hand around her mouth, stifling her.

  As he tried to lift her off her feet, Jessica squirmed under his grip and clamped down on his hand with her teeth, biting into his flesh and bone. Groaning, Lester was forced to release her.

  She darted towards the door. But she only made it halfway down the corridor before Lester grabbed her trailing hand and pulled her back. He punched her around the side of the face, felling her. Then, using the knife he’d used on Carl, he tore her shirt open and stuffed the excess fabric in her mouth, silencing her. She gagged and struggled, and Lester gave her another punch, grinning as her eyes rolled in the back of her head.

  He estimated he didn’t have long until she came to again, so he sprinted to the kitchen, grabbed the knives and
the hammer and nails, and returned while Jessica’s eyes were still moon white.

  She mumbled incomprehensibly behind the rag in her mouth. Lester spilt the nails onto the floor, scattering them across the wood, then grabbed one of her hands and pinned it to the ground, stabbing it with the nine-inch kitchen knife he’d just retrieved. The blade tore through her skin and buried itself in the wooden floorboard.

  Jessica screamed, spitting the cloth from her mouth. She danced in and out of consciousness, and Lester wasted no time in pinning her other hand to the ground.

  Once the knives were in, he cemented her position using the hammer and nails. In her clothes, in her ankles, in her shoulders, in her thick strands of chestnut-brown hair. Each time the hammer slammed on the nail’s head and the metallic sound perforated his eardrums, he groaned. He could feel himself getting excited. Droplets of his phlegm dripped onto her mouth, caressing her, dousing her in his fluids. It won’t be the only fluid, he thought.