Pure Justice

by Alan Richards

  “It was fun, did you see his face.”

  “I did, but now he is going to want to find the evidence even more than he did before you told him the truth about us.”

  “Don’t worry, if he gets too close we just disappear. He won’t get that close.”

  Amelia found herself transfixed. She hadn’t felt this way about a man since her husband was run down. She had to resist, it would only lead to heart break falling for a policeman, especially in her line of work.

  She was still staring at him when she noticed the motorbike out the corner of her eye. It was moving differently to the rest of the traffic, slower and it was heading across the lanes towards Michael.

  * * *

  Michael had left the office in shock more than anything. The loud noise from the cars racing along the street bypassed him. He was right, she may have said she was joking but he saw that glint in her eye. Amelia Johnson was telling him the truth. Amelia Johnson was a contract killer.

  People were having to swerve around him, swearing at him for making them detour away from their path. Some knocked into him, oblivious to his presence until too late, themselves paying attention to nothing but their phones as they strode forwards.

  He had been stood for a few minutes and was oblivious to everything around him including the motorbike that pulled up in front of him. The passenger pulled a pistol from their jacket and fired two shots into his chest before the driver gunned the throttle and they both disappeared into the London traffic.

  The searing pain broke him from his trance, he looked down at his shirt, the blood stains growing larger by the second.

  Was this how it was going to end.

  He heard someone shouting his name over the screaming of the people around him. He looked up to see Amelia’s face looking down at him.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he heard them say.

  He felt cold.

  * * *

  She had noticed the motorbike too late. She knew exactly what was about to happen but couldn’t stop it. She raced out into the street and knelt over Michael. Blood was pouring from two wounds to his upper chest. It was amateur, the two shots had hit him upper left chest. He would probably have a collapsed lung but the bullets would have missed any vital organs. She couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t have made the same rookie mistake.

  “You’re going to be fine,” she told him.

  “How do you know that,” said Helen, who had followed her out.

  “Because I do, now let’s get him inside and downstairs.”

  “You can’t take him down there. Wait for an ambulance.”

  “He will have lost too much blood by the time the ambulance arrives.”

  “Seriously, a copper and you want to take him there.”

  “Yes, now help me.”

  Amelia and Helen picked up Michael and carried him inside. They shut and locked the door behind them, closing all the blinds for good measure. Once inside they carried him to the lift. Once inside Amelia placed her finger over a small dark square. After a few seconds the lift sprang into life and started to descend. After a short while the lift stopped. The doors opened to reveal a room that resembled a hospital room.

  “Let’s get him on the bed and hooked up to fluids. We can then try and stop the bleeding,” said Amelia.

  “I expected to be having to do this to you at some point not saving a copper that is trying to take you down.”

  “We can worry about that after we keep him alive.”

  Once they had Michael on the bed Helen hooked up an IV and started to run fluids into him. Amelia was working on removing his shirt so she could get a good look at his wounds.

  “How bad is it?” asked Helen.

  “The two in the front are clean enough, help me roll him over.”

  The two of them rolled Michael over so Amelia could see the back.

  “Good, two clean exit wounds. If we pack the wounds and dress them it should stem the bleeding enough to get him to hospital.”

  Amelia packed the wounds while Helen dressed them with combat grade dressing to seal them.

  “How’s he doing,” asked Helen.

  “He’ll live. We’ve stopped the bleeding and given him fluids. We need to get him to hospital so he can get checked over properly.”

  “I didn’t bother with the ambulance,” said Helen.

  “That’s okay we can call the private one.”

  Amelia took out the IV while Helen rang the private ambulance firm they had used in the past when some not so good friends of Amelia’s had paid her a visit at the office. Unlike Michael they hadn’t been taken to the hospital by the time Amelia had finished with them. The room had it’s own private parking area that the ambulance would collect Michael from. They would take care of everything once they picked him up, including falsifying where they had picked him up from.

  “We had better ring Wendy,” said Helen.

  “Yeah, she isn’t going to be happy about this.”

  Amelia took her phone from her trouser pocket and hit the speed dial for Wendy. This was going to be an interesting conversation.

  Eight

  Wendy had been visiting Michael for the last week. He had lost a lot of blood at the scene of the shooting. If it hadn’t been for Amelia and Helen he would have died and she would be leading a murder hunt. Amelia had said he had been unconscious throughout so it was likely he wouldn’t remember anything. She hoped that would be the case as it would make it very difficult if he recalled anything that happened after the shooting. She took up her usual seat next to his bed. She would wait again in the hope he regained consciousness.

  She was woken by a tap on her shoulder. She had been working all the hours she could leading the hunt for the two people on the motorbike.

  “You need to get some sleep,” said Sam. “At home, in your bed not in a hospital chair.”

  “I’m fine. I need to be here when he wakes up,” she replied. “Any updates.”

  “No. Traffic cameras got a number plate but it was traced to a Porsche 911 and it just disappeared down streets that had no cameras. It was last seen heading out towards Ilford so we’re concentrating enquiries around that area.”

  “Has he pissed anybody off round there.”

  “Not that we know of.”

  “Okay let me know if you find anything.”

  “Will do,” said Sam. “I do have one theory that is a bit out there.”

  “I’ll take anything at the moment.”

  “He was interviewing Amelia Johnson. You know his wild theory about someone killing off people connected with her husband’s death, add that to the theory that she is a contract killer behind all that high brow catering business.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Maybe she arranged for him to be removed. She knew exactly where he would be.”

  “I don’t even think his contract killer theory is going to fly, so no I don’t think so.”

  “Worth looking into though.”

  “Concentrate on finding that bike and the people riding it. Then we can find out who hired them.”

  Sam nodded and left. Wendy needed to keep him away from any investigation into Amelia, for her sake if nobody else’s. Trouble was he could be right, but if he was why would Amelia save Michael. No... he was wrong, there must be another reason.

  * * *

  Amelia arrived at the office tower in plenty of time for her meeting. Travis ran a shares trading business. She didn’t really understand what he did but he made lots of money from it. He had explained it all to her over an expensive bottle of wine they had shared when he had arranged for her husband’s insurance money to be invested. She knew he was good at his job as the share portfolio had quadrupled in the years since she invested the money. That wasn’t the only reason she knew Travis; he was the arranger for people in her line of business. He could arrange for weapons, transport, even arrange for you to disappear if you needed to.

  “I’m here to see Travis Deer
ling,” Amelia said as she arrived at the reception desk.

  “Do you have an appointment madam?” asked the receptionist.

  “No, just tell him Amelia Johnson is here to see him.”

  “I’m sorry madam, if you don’t have an appointment he won’t see you. Can I make one for you?”

  She wasn’t hiding the distain in her voice and it was annoying Amelia.

  “Listen very carefully. Pick up the phone and tell him I am here...”

  “As I said madam. If you...”

  “Don’t interrupt me. Pick... up... the... phone. Last chance before I ring him and you get fired.”

  “Madam. You don’t have an appointment. I can make one for you.”

  “Fine.”

  Amelia took a step back from the counter, took her phone from her jacket pocket and hit the speed dial for Travis.

  “Hello, yes I’m fine thanks. Trying to get past your receptionist. I need to see you.”

  She ended the call and put the phone back in her jacket.

  “If I were you I would get on LinkedIn and start touting your skills.”

  The girl didn’t look bothered at all. Little did she know.

  Amelia heard the lift ping followed by the short and slightly portly figure of Travis rounding the corner into reception.

  “Hello Amelia,” said Travis. “I do hope you haven’t waited too long.”

  “Not long. I had a nice chat with your receptionist.”

  “Shall we go upstairs to the office.”

  “Of course.”

  Amelia followed Travis as he turned back towards the lift.

  “You, what’s your name?” he asked as he pointed at the receptionist.

  “Hayley, sir.”

  “Hayley. Get your stuff and fuck off. Your fired.”

  “But...”

  “Don’t argue. Just get out of here.”

  Amelia couldn’t help herself. She smiled at the now tearful Hayley as she followed Travis to the lift.

  * * *

  Travis’s office was in an office tower on the banks of the river Thames. His company took up a whole floor of the expansive and much sought after complex. His corner office had views over the Thames to the Tower of London and London Bridge.

  “Sit down Amelia. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to know who got the job to liquidate Michael Moran.”

  “The copper.”

  “Yes.”

  “No idea, didn’t come through me.”

  “Travis, you knew who I was talking about from the name I gave you. So of course it came through you.”

  “Ahh, you spotted that.”

  “Yes I did. I’m not asking who the client was, I know you won’t know that. I just want to know who carried the job out.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “They shot him outside my office. That’s going to bring way too much attention in my direction. They need to understand their mistake.”

  “I see. This can’t come back to me.”

  “It won’t.”

  “To be honest they are new. Only done a couple of jobs. They seem to like the flair element of the business. I couldn’t get anyone else to do the job though. No one likes taking out a copper.”

  Amelia watched as he took a pen from his desk drawer and wrote an address on a piece of paper. Folded it and handed it the her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you. We must grab lunch at some point. Talk about work.”

  “Lunch, yes. Work, no. I do what I do for a reason not for the money.”

  “Okay, but you have skills that will always be in demand if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  Amelia stood from the chair she had sat in. Walked around the desk and kissed Travis on the cheek before walking back to the lift. She needed to collect some items from the office and then head to the address she now had.

  Nine

  Amelia drove out of the city and headed towards Ilford. She hadn’t worked out exactly what she was going to do when she got to the address, she would make up her mind once she saw who it was that had carried out an attempted execution in front of her office. She was furious. People in the business knew better than to cross her and those that had tried hadn’t lasted long. She had grown up in the business. Her father and grandfather had both been contract killers for different criminal organisations. The fact her father had two girls meant if he wanted to pass on the family business it had to be either Helen or her. Helen had grown up with an aptitude for math and organisation, something she had picked up from their mother. Amelia on the other hand was her fathers daughter, ruthless and with an aptitude for killing. Most people would probably class her as a psychopath but that was very far from the truth. Yes she enjoyed killing people but she also loved her husband, her children. It was a job to her and everyone should enjoy their work.

  She pulled into Valentines Road and pulled up a few doors down from the house. The street was nice, respectable. She didn’t know why she was surprised but she was. She lived in a nice house. She exited her car, locked it and walked towards the house. She carried on past the driveway and looked down the drive. There was a BMW motorbike sat in the drive. She loved her bikes, it was a BMW R 1200 RS, black livery. She couldn’t help but admire the machine. She turned back in the direction she had come from, walked down the path of the house and rang the front door-bell.

  The door opened and a young lady answered. Amelia guessed she was in her mid twenties. She was slim about five feet four inches, auburn hair and a very symmetrical face.

  “Can I help you?” asked the young lady.

  “I do hope so, my name is Amelia Johnson. Is your husband in.”

  Amelia had spotted the wedding ring on the young ladies finger. Couple that with the set of men’s trainers sat on the shoe stand at the door and she assumed she would be on safe ground guessing at a husband.

  “Yes, he is,” the young lady replied, slightly bemused. “How did...”

  “It’s my job to notice things. Helps me stay alive in my line of business.”

  “What line of business is that?”

  “Can I come inside and discuss it?”

  “No I don’t think so.”

  “Never mind we can talk here. You were hired by Travis to carry out a job. You fucked it up. And worse still you did it in front of my business.”

  “I don’t know any Travis.”

  “Sorry, he probably doesn’t trust you enough yet to give you his name. The arranger. And to be honest after today it won’t matter if you do know his name.”

  “You had better come in.”

  “Good idea,” Amelia said as she pushed past the young lady. “You had better fetch your husband.”

  * * *

  Amelia had settled into the lounge and was waiting for the young lady and her husband to return. She was taking a bit of a risk they could just come in and shoot her but it was a risk she was prepared to take.

  “Hello, my name is George,” the young man said as he entered the lounge followed by the young lady she had met earlier. “This is Patricia, my wife.”

  “Amelia, and that is my real name unlike yours I imagine,” she replied.

  “May I say your taking a bit of a risk coming here.”

  “Possibly. I only came for one thing. The name of the person who hired you.”

  “You know it’s anonymous, the transaction is with the arranger.”

  “I know it’s supposed to be but I know I always like to know who I am working for.”

  “We are in the same line of business?” George asked.

  “We were. After your stunt outside my place of work you will never work again. The arranger won’t be sending you any more work and everyone else in the business will avoid you like the plague.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  “Oh sorry, I gave your wife my married name, Johnson. Maybe you will know my families name better... Christie. I know your young but I
also know that everyone in this business knows the family name.”

  “Your father and grandfather were legends.”

  “Yes they were.”

  “Story is that the daughters now run the business but are no longer available for contracts. They pick and choose their own.”

  “Yes we do. So unless you want to become my next contract I need to know who hired you.”

  “We don’t have a name, just a phone number.”

  “Give it me.”

  “He won’t answer unless it comes from a number he knows.”

  “Okay you dial. Put it on speaker.”

  Amelia waited as the phone rang, it kept ringing. Three rings, four rings. She had started to wonder if anyone would answer.

  “Hello. I told you not to call me again. You really fucked up. You were supposed to kill him.”

  Amelia recognised the voice immediately.

  “Hello Sam.”

  “Who’s that?” asked the voice.

  “It’s Amelia Johnson.”

  “How...”

  “I threatened them Sam. That’s how I am on the call. That is what you were going to ask.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “You have no idea what I am thinking right now.”

  “I... it’s just that...”

  “Sam, I think the best thing you can do is shut up and start running because when I find you I am going to kill you. You see Michael was right all along, I am a contract killer and a very good one. I killed my husband’s killer, the judge and Andrew Timmons. In fact I’ve been killing people for over twenty years. I am bloody good at it and your next on my list.”

  “I’ll just go to the DCI with everything you just said.”

  “Yeah that’s not going to help you. She already knows. She works with my sister and me on all our jobs. Goodbye Sam... be seeing you.”

  Amelia motioned for George to hang up the phone.

  “Thank you. Now, you come near my business again and I will terminate you both. Understood.”

  “Yes,” they both replied in unison.

  “Good. One last thing, could I use your toilet before I go.”

  “Of course.”

  Once she had finished Amelia left the house and walked back to her car. She still didn’t quite understand why she cared but she knew she had to find Sam and kill him.