by Steve Hester
CHAPTER 15
The area around the park was heavy with emergency vehicles. Several police officers had parked their cars across the road lanes and started to secure the crime scene. Some were stretching crime scene tape between lampposts while others started the job of diverting cars away.
Drivers who weren't privy to the events of the last half hour were either honking their horn impatiently or craning their necks to get a better view of whatever had caused the swarm of blue lights to descend on this corner of the town.
An unmarked police car separated itself from the traffic and, it's hidden lights flashing, drove up the opposite side of the road. It stopped at the cordon and the passenger flashed the officer his ID before the tape was lifted and it drove through.
They pulled up on one side of the road. A group of fire fighters were discussing the best way to approach the debris with a representative of the electric company that owned the substation nearby.
The former occupants of the car marched past them and through one of the gates of the park. The flames had died down but the fire itself was still burning. The old foam seats of the car were smouldering, releasing a foul choking smoke of their own which started to drift towards them.
D.C. Sarah Keenan coughed and put her sleeve across her mouth as she took a lungful of it. She turned around and coughed even more, her eyes watering slightly. She waved a hand at her partner and the two of them moved further along the wrought iron railing where the air was cleaner.
“You all right?” said Jack.
She nodded; her head bent level with her knees before she straightened up and wiped the water from her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said hoarsely “I'm fine, just went the wrong way.”
She took a few deep breaths and smiled into Jacks face.
She'd been partnered up with Jack Mirran for the last two and a half years after fighting her way out of uniform. At 26 she'd been one of the youngest officers in the area to have been promoted to sergeant and had requested a transfer to CID. Working with Jack over that time had certainly been an education. He was 14 years her senior and seemed to have a story for every occasion, sometimes revelling in the gory details of one or two of the more outlandish cases.
There had been rumours floating round the station that the two had been an item at one point. Sarah had been worried about them but Jack just shrugged and said to let people think whatever they wanted. He really didn't care and it had been his relaxed attitude to the whole thing had put her mind at rest. They played it up slightly to wind up a few of their colleagues but never denied anything on Jack's thinking that the more you denied it the truer it became.
In reality though it was much more of a brother and sister kind of arrangement. The two of them just got on; they trusted each other and even hung out outside of work. Although they had agreed never to go on another club night after a trip to one in Manchester had left jack not only feeling really old but like a dad waiting to pick up his daughter.
After feeling that her head had sufficiently cleared they made their way back into the park, covering their faces with their sleeves. A few drips of rain started to fall, landing on the car and hissing slightly. The discussion with the firemen would soon be a moot point as the steady trickle of water from the sky started to increase.
Sarah and Jack started to circle the car, examining as best they could while the metal started to tick as it cooled under the rain. Their torches criss-crossed each other as they went.
“What the hell happened?” said Jack. “Looks more like a train wreck than a car!”
Sarah had started to follow the direction of the tyre tracks across the gravel path. She knelt for a moment looking at the unusual mound that stuck up out of the level ground like a boil. There was a groove in one side where the car had hit it.
“The tyre tracks look straight.” She said. “A few corrections but it was heading straight here.”
The beam of her torch followed them all the way up to the mound. It moved on, picking out the divots that had been gouged out of the grass on the other side of the path where the car had flipped.
“Whoever was behind the wheel, it doesn't look like they were planning on turning.”
A drop of water fell off a nearby tree leaf and down the back of Jack's collar. He stood up and started wiping it off with his hand.
“Ye-uck!” He said. “He must have been going at some speed to have flipped it over like that! Christ, what was he doing?”
“Tearing through most of the town causing hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of damage.” She said.
“And the rest!” her partner said.
She moved back to the car and started to look around next to it.
“Doesn't look like anyone crawled out. The grounds not disturbed.”
“Then where the hell did he go?” asked Jack.
They swept the ground that was becoming increasingly sodden until they found a patch of grass where the blades had all been flattened. They followed that till they came across some slightly waterlogged footprints next to a bush. It was a good thirty feet away from what was left of the car.
They ran their torches over the ground before a glint caught Jack's eye. He shone the beam up a nearby tree and saw a license plate buried in the bark at about head height. Sarah joined him as he started to pull on a pair of rubber gloves. Once they were on he fished out a Leatherman multi tool from his pocket.
“SOCO aren't going to like that Jack.” She said nodding to the Scene Of Crime Officers on the other side of the fence.
He followed her gaze out to the men and women who were currently suiting up next to their van. They were wearing one piece, white hooded overalls with plastic baggies over their shoes in order to preserve the crime scene. He shrugged and selected the pliers from his multi tool.
“Ah, bollocks to em. Collings still owes me twenty quid from the darts game.”
With that he started to work the license plate out. It had finally come loose when he heard a shout from behind him.
“Bloody hell Jack! What do you think you're doing??”
Collings was stood behind him. In the light he looked like the world’s worst ghost impressionist. He pulled his facemask up onto his forehead.
“Do you know what the words 'crime scene' actually mean?” he said.
Jack shrugged again, absently waving the plate around.
“You know what the words 'oh yeah, I'll give you that money on payday' mean?”
“Oh for gods.... You still going on about that are you? If it means that bloody much to you I'll slip it into your locker later, but it still doesn't excuse you from tampering with evidence!”
Jack walked over to him.
“The rain is doing a hell of a lot more tampering than we are.” He tossed the license to him. “Found this jammed into the tree.”
He made a show of trying to guess the height and put his hand, edge first, against Collings' throat.
“Looks like it's just about your size!” Jack said.
Collings batted it away.
“Look just bugger off the pair of you. We've got to preserve as much of this as possible before it really starts to come down and I don't need you two getting footprints everywhere.”
“We're going.” said Sarah, slipping in-between the two men. “Aren't we, Jack?”
“Oh yeah. No need to stand out in the rain any longer than we have to. It's not as if we've got full body condoms to keep us dry is it?”
Sarah choked back a laugh as Jack led the way out of the park, past the rest of the SOCO team and back to their car.
“You really do have a way with people, don't you?” she said.
“The guys a knob. He's got his nose so far up the Super's arse all he can see is teeth.”
Jack pulled his gloves off and stuffed them in a bag he took from a compartment in his door.
“Did you get the license before Collings started?” He asked.
One of the things that Sarah Keenan was known for was a v
ery observational eye. The quick glimpse she'd had of the license plate while Jack was keeping the SOCO team occupied was enough for her to remember it. She nodded and picked up the radio.
“Echo Victor from Bravo Sierra 117.” She said. There was a moments static before the dispatcher on the other end acknowledged her.
“Bravo Sierra 117, go ahead.”
“Echo Victor, I need a PNC vehicle check: Charlie Romeo 33 4 Bravo Bravo.”
There was a pause for a few seconds and the sound of typing coming from the other end of the line as the dispatcher looked up the cars details.
“Bravo Sierra 117 from Echo Victor, car is coming up as a silver Hyundai.” Said the dispatcher. “It hasn't been registered as being stolen at this time.”
Jack nodded “Yeah, sounds about right.”
“Can you give me a name and address for the registered keeper?” asked Sarah.
There was another pause while the dispatcher brought up the details for her.
“Robert Stokes, born 12/08/1993. Address is 45 Celtic Street West, Offerton.”
“Thanks Echo Victor.”
She was about to put the radio back when the dispatcher spoke up again.
“A silver Hyundai has been named as a suspect in a hit and run on Meriott street, Heaton Chapel, could be the same one. Victim is named as Jason Walker. It was reported by one of his neighbours.”
“What's his status?” Asked Sarah.
“Unknown at this time, paramedics are en route.”
“Ok, thanks Sheila.”
She put the radio back and turned to her partner.
“Looks like we have a connection!” she said. “That address isn't too far from here.”
“He's going home.” Said her partner nodding.
Sarah started the engine of the car while Jack picked the radio up again and called in for additional officers to join them there. The cordon was lifted at the end of the road and the unmarked car drove off.
“So,” said Jack “this guy ran someone over then went crazy, bashing into everything in sight before crashing here.”
“Looks like it.”
“And after all that he was able to run away. What do you think he's on? I mean, he must have been taking something, either that or he's out of his bloody mind.”
“I've got no idea. The car had no roof for god’s sake, whatever it was it must have been strong!” said Sarah.
Jack sat back.
“Impromptu convertible. Personally, I'd have an Aston Martin, at least that way you can get the roof back up!”
A crowd had gathered by the cordon, mostly made up of people spilling out of the Spread Eagle pub next to the park. They watched the unfolding drama with interest, one or two being told off by the police for having alcohol out on the street.
At the back of the crowd the Sympathetic Man watched too. Asserting control over the car had been difficult and draining but it should have worked!! That shouldn't have happened, he was only a potential, not a Key. There was no sense of the chain or anything beyond being an ordinary human right up until those last few seconds.
But somehow... somehow this boy had manifested his powers. The Sympathetic Man held onto a lamppost and gathered himself. Chasing after him now, in a weakened state would be inviting another disaster, but as he watched the unmarked car head up hill along New Zealand Road he realised that he didn't have to chase him at all.
All he had to do was wait and let someone else do the work for him.
…
A short way across town another street was alive with flashing lights as well. The black saloon crawled to a stop by the police tape at one end. Jacob and Annie watched as an ambulance started to drive off while police set up tents at several separate points on the street. It was mostly to preserve evidence but also to hide the bodies from view.
One was a car. As the last piece of the tent was put up and moved into place Annie caught sight of the license plate of the car. It was worryingly familiar.
“That car's one of ours.” She said.”It's Michelle's.”
“Smithy, when did you last hear from Michelle?” said Jacob into his mic.
“Just over half an hour ago.” said smithy over their earpieces. “They radioed in to say they'd found the party but the police were there. She said they were going to wait till they'd gone and move in.”
A sudden sense of worry came over him.
“Why? What's happened?”
“We're at the friends place. Her cars here, so is the police. It doesn't look good. Who went out with her?” said Annie.
Smithy looked at the duty log on his screen.
“Clark.” He said.
Jacob and Annie shared a look at each other.
“Come on.” said Jacob undoing his seatbelt.
As they approached the cordon a uniformed police officer stopped them.
“I'm sorry sir, madam.” She said. “Can't come any further, the streets a crime scene, residents only.”
“Yes we know.” Said Annie.
She lifted the tape before the officer could respond. The two ducked under it. There was a brief moment before the officer came to her senses. She stepped in front of them, her arms held out.
“You're both going to have to go back on the other side of the tape or I'll arrest you for...”
Jacob pulled an ID card from his pocket and held it up to her face.
“You're not arresting anybody.” He said. “Limewell. Who's the officer in charge?”
“Er... Sergeant Beakman, sir.” Said the officer.
“Get him for us.”
The officer nodded, now slightly pale, and ran off to get her superior. Jacob and Annie immediately went to the car.
“I doubt he knows Limewell. We probably have two minutes.” Said Annie.
“Yeah. Better not waste them.” Said Jacob.
They moved aside the screen and looked down at Michelle's body. She looked like she was asleep but the pallid colour of her cheeks and her stillness spoke volumes. Jacob opened the car door and started to look over the body. Annie opened up her mic.
“Smithy... We've found Michelle. She's dead.”
“Looks like a stab wound.” muttered Jacob.
“Jacob says that it looks like she was stabbed. She's in her car so someone must have gotten pretty close to her.”
In the base Smithy leant on his head on his hands.
“Right.” There was a pause at his end. “I'll... I'll send out the call and have her brought back for Sian to take a closer look. It wasn't Clark was it?”
Annie looked around and caught sight of a member of the forensic team moving towards the tent in the alley a short way ahead. She followed and caught sight of a prone body lying on its front as they went through the flap. The head however was twisted backwards. It was only a glimpse but it was all Annie needed to see.
“No. He's dead too.”
An officer started to stride towards them from the far end of the cordon. Annie turned around and headed back to Jacob.
“Jacob. I Found Clarke.” she said.
“Excuse me!”
“Thought you might have.” said Jacob with sadness.
“Smithy's going to arrange...”
“Excuse me!!”
“...for the bodies to be transported back.”
“OI! I'm talking to you!!”
They turned to look at the officer.
“Sergeant Beakwell?” Asked Jacob.
“It's BeakMAN actually. Now who the hell are you two?”
Jacob squared up to him.
“That's classified.”
“Oh that's right is it? I've heard about you Limewell lot. I don't care what branch of the government you work for; I'm not having any interfering busybodies from down south contaminating MY crime scene. Now bugger off behind the tape and we'll call you when we're ready.”
“Sergeant,” said Jacob patiently, “believe it or not, we are here on official business pertaining to an ongoing investigation and evide
nce here may help us.”
The sergeant looked him over. The armour and the long coats weren't exactly convincing.
“Dress like that normally do you?” he asked.
“When the situation calls for it.” said Jacob
“Now this has gone on long enough! Last warning! Get behind the tape or I'm going to take you in.”
“You not going to arrest us are you?” asked Annie. Her expression was mostly blank but both a look of amusement and irritation played subtlety across her features.
“Contaminating a crime scene, obstructing the police in the execution of their duties, violating a police cordon, interfering with a murder investigation and wasting my bloody time? Oh you bet I'm going to arrest you!”
“BOSS!!” said Smithy over the radio.
Jacob turned his back on the sergeant.
“Go ahead.”
“Excuse me sir, but I'm not finished speaking with you! I am placing both of you under arrest.”
He'd removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt and grabbed Annie's wrist. He suddenly stopped as he felt a pressure on his own. Annie's other hand had snaked out and had grabbed it. He could feel the bones grinding together and one of his nerves was sending some very worrying information up to his brain.
“We've just seen a massive spike near Stockport town centre, came out of nowhere! Police radio chatter from near there says there's been a car crash. I think that's him.”
“You hear that?” asked Jacob. Annie nodded, her eyes fixed calmly on the sergeants. His were bulging.
“Oh let him go.” Said Jacob.
Annie released her grip and the sergeant immediately started to cradle his wrist.
“She hasn't broken it but she could of. Now the rest of our team will be here very shortly to collect the bodies. I hope you show them more professional curtsey than you've shown us.”
They turned on their heels and walked back to their car.
“This is a crime scene! I can't just let you carry off the bodies!” said the sergeant.
Jacob looked back at him.
“Well they can't walk out of here can they?” he said.
