Suspended Retribution

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Suspended Retribution Page 21

by Rob Ashman


  ‘He’s not a happy bunny.’

  ‘Okay I’ll make it a whole tin of sorry biscuits. I’m waiting for them to call me with the results.’

  ‘They called me instead. I’m sorry, Roz but the prints they pulled off the phone casing match the ones on the wine bottle from your house. That phone belongs to Chris Millican.’

  ‘Oh shit.’ Kray put her head in her hands.

  ‘There could be a whole host of reasonable explanations why his mobile ended up on the road.’

  ‘Is there any CCTV in the area?’

  ‘No, I checked. I asked the garage if their forecourt surveillance covered the road and it doesn’t. It’s late. Why don’t you call it a day and go home? We can pick this stuff up in the morning. I know what you’re thinking, but Millican is probably pissed in a pub somewhere wondering where the fuck his phone’s gone.’

  ‘I got a bad feeling about this, Dan. I reckon Jarrod has him. He said he would kill him if he got in the way again. Chris is not at home and hasn’t showed up for work.’

  ‘You’re involved, you’re bound to think the worst. Go home and get some rest.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right.’

  Kray gathered her things together and waved Bagley goodnight. The drive home was a damned sight calmer than her blues and twos ride with Hucknall. She opened up her front door, walked into the hallway and dumped her stuff on the floor. It was eight thirty and the only thing she wanted was a hot bath and cold wine.

  Armed with a bottle and a glass, she ran the bath, emptying the last of the foam into the water. The first glugs of wine felt good. She tried to relax but the nagging sensation would not leave her alone.

  Where the fuck was he?

  She dipped her toe into the water and heard the letterbox snap shut downstairs, followed by a clunk as something landed on the mat.

  What the hell was that?

  She wrapped a towel around herself and headed downstairs, clutching her wine. A small, oblong object lay on the floor by the front door. She picked it up, turning it over and over in her hand – it was a mobile phone.

  What the …

  Kray went to her front room window and looked up and down the road, all was clear. She pressed the on button, the screen shone blue and the menu came up. Kray stared at the handset trying to fathom why someone would drop it through her letterbox. The phone dinged and a message logo appeared.

  She scrolled down and hit open.

  The picture of Chis Millican filled the screen. He was lying on his side with his hands behind his back, an angry bruise ran along the left-hand side of his face and his eyes were closed. The floor beneath his head was stained red. At the top of the picture was written: Lose the security around the Lang house or lose your boyfriend. Tell no one.

  49

  The office was empty, which was no surprise as the clock on the wall read 2.20am. Kray and Bagley were perched at a desk surrounded by a fortress of monitors, drinking coffee and waiting.

  ‘How long did he say?’ asked Bagley.

  ‘He had to drive in from Preston so he said he’d be here around half past.’

  Kray was struggling to keep her emotions in check. When the picture of Millican flashed up on the phone she almost dropped it. For the next hour she wandered about her house torturing herself with what she should do next. Eventually her copper’s brain kicked in and she called Bagley.

  The double doors swung open and Taylor paced in.

  ‘I got here as soon as I could, it sounded like an emergency.’

  ‘Thank you, it is. Brian, this is DCI Bagley, we need you to tell us everything you can about this phone.’ She handed over the device in a plastic bag.

  ‘Can I take it out?’

  ‘Yes, it’s already dusted negative for fingerprints. It dropped through my letter box and when I switched it on I received a text message.’

  Taylor pushed a couple of buttons and the picture of Millican popped up.

  ‘Oh shit. I see what you mean,’ said Taylor screwing up his face. ‘Okay let’s see what we have.’ He pushed more buttons on the handset and input the information into the system. ‘This won’t go any faster with you looking over my shoulder,’ he said. ‘Go get yourselves a coffee and bring one for me while you’re at it.’

  ‘Of course.’ Kray walked over to the vending machine, followed by Bagley.

  ‘You were right,’ he said.

  ‘I had a feeling something was wrong.’ The machine whirred away brewing brown liquid, masquerading as a satisfying beverage.

  ‘We’ll need to run the plan past Quade in the morning, but I’m sure she’ll go for it.’

  ‘It’s the obvious play, I’m not sure we have other options.’

  ‘You don’t have to do this, you know? No one would blame you if you took a step back.’

  ‘And do what? Sit on my sofa eating chocolate and getting drunk? No thanks, I’m better off here. Anyway, you would soon get fed up with me calling you every five minutes.’

  ‘You’re developing a bit of a track record for calling in the middle of the night.’ Bagley paused to remove a drink from the dispenser. ‘Did you consider keeping it to yourself?’

  ‘Yes, but that would have been a stupid thing to do.’

  ‘It’s tough. We’ll get him back.’ He placed his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘I was able to contact most people and they will be in for six. Tavener is coming in at five.’

  ‘He’s a good lad.’

  ‘Okay, I’ve got something,’ Taylor called out, the two of them trooped back to his desk and handed him a coffee. ‘We are dealing with two mobiles. This one …’ He held up the one Kray had given him. ‘Is brand new and has never been used. The second phone, which was used to take the photograph and send the text, has also never been used. They have no call or messaging history other than the text.’

  ‘Where is the second phone now?’ asked Bagley.

  ‘Hold your horses, I’m coming to that. The photo was taken a little after 3pm yesterday afternoon but the phone was not active at that time.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Kray.

  ‘This phone is pretty basic, it makes calls, sends texts, takes pictures and that’s about it. My assumption is that the second phone is the same type. Whoever took the picture installed the battery but left out the SIM card. The only way to track the device is when it pings against the cell masts using the phone network.’

  ‘So, there is no GPS?’ asked Bagley.

  ‘Not on a cheap device like this.’

  ‘There is no way to identify the location where the picture was taken.’

  ‘Not from the phone.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ rapped Bagley.

  ‘So, we could contact Jarrod on the second phone?’

  ‘Have you tried the number?’ asked Taylor.

  ‘No, not yet,’ said Kray.

  ‘Do you want to try it now?’

  ‘Yes, do it.’

  Taylor dialled the phone number into the system. There was an agonising few seconds of silence, all three of them held their breath – then the network’s message service clicked in.

  ‘The handset is not responding.’

  ‘When did they become active?’ Kray asked.

  ‘That’s the interesting part. Both phones became active within a minute of each other at around nine o’clock last night. The person must have assembled them in the same location because they were both picked up by the same three masts. He installed the batteries and the SIM cards and sent the text.’

  ‘Where was that?’

  ‘It was here.’ Taylor brought a map up on the screen with a blue dot pulsating on one of the roads.

  ‘That’s my street,’ said Kray, ‘that’s where I fucking live!’

  50

  ‘Are we all clear on what needs to happen?’ Kray was on her feet in the incident room, briefing the team. ‘We need to do this quickly and with a minimum amount of fuss. Jarrod could be watching. He is going to expect a cert
ain amount of movement but we cannot over play our hand. Brian, you have the second phone, contact us the moment Jarrod’s mobile becomes active.’ Taylor raised his hand and nodded.

  Kray checked her phone. ‘Has anyone heard from DCI Bagley?’ A mumbled ‘No’ reverberated around the room. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

  They piled into cars and vans and drove out of the station. Tavener was riding with Kray.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  ‘As okay as I could be given the circumstances.’

  ‘How do you think Jarrod knew where you lived?’

  ‘I don’t know, it could be as simple as he followed me to my house. It seems too much of a coincidence that fifteen minutes after I get home he’s dropping the mobile onto my doormat. It’s the easiest explanation. It also means he has use of a car and we have to work on the assumption that it belongs to Chris Millican.’

  ‘We’ve put out a description of the vehicle, everyone is aware. How is Baggers behaving?’

  ‘You mean DCI Bagley?’

  ‘Yes I mean him.’

  ‘One day you are going to slip up and he’ll have your bollocks in a sling.’

  ‘Point taken.’

  ‘He’s being bloody marvellous, if you must know, which is pissing me off no end.’

  ‘Maybe he’s settling in?’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’

  The early morning start was catching up with both of them and they travelled the rest of the journey in silence. They pulled up in a side street and walked to the back of Lang’s house. Kray opened the gate and the reason for Bagley not having called earlier became clear.

  If Jarrod is within half a mile of this we’re fucked.

  Kray could see through the kitchen window that events had taken a turn for the worse. She and Tavener opened the back door, stepping into the mad house.

  ‘I’m telling you, I’m not going.’ Lang was toe-to-toe with Bagley, screaming in his face.

  ‘I have explained to you, Casey, that you are required to vacate the premises as part of our ongoing investigations. Failure to do so—’

  ‘Bloody hell here’s another two!’ Lang waved her arm in Kray’s direction. ‘It’s Mystic Meg and the one out of Game of Thrones.’

  Bagley continued, ‘I have told you—’

  ‘And I’ve told you to fuck off.’ Casey stormed off into the other room.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Kray asked.

  Bagley shook his head and traipsed after Lang into the lounge. Tavener went to follow but Kray took his arm.

  ‘Probably best not,’ she said wrinkling up her nose.

  ‘Game of Thrones?’

  ‘I think she means the tall one.’

  ‘That would make you …’

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  The row continued unabated; the more Bagley tried to persuade the more abusive she became. In the end Bagley snapped. ‘Casey Lang, I am arresting you for obstructing a police officer …’

  Ten minutes later the house was quiet.

  ‘The custody sergeant is going to love you,’ Kray said to Bagley.

  ‘Yeah, plus the two PCs who had to get her into the car and down to the station. I am not going to be a popular boy.’

  A woman dressed in jeans and a baggy top, with her hair drawn back into a top knot came into the room. She wasn’t a dead ringer for Lang but could pass at a distance.

  ‘Have you familiarised yourself with the house?’ Kray asked.

  ‘Yes, I have, ma’am.’

  ‘There will be no overt police presence anywhere near here. An officer will be with you in the house, keeping out of sight, at all times. Your job is to watch TV, make tea and do normal things, it’s important for Jarrod to see you. We will be a stone’s throw away. You have your radio and we will alert you of any movement. When we see Jarrod it will be a call to all units.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said.

  Bagley and Kray walked out the back door and returned to their car. She gazed out of the window with a one-thousand-yard stare.

  ‘Let’s hope he makes a move,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah and let’s hope he switches on that bloody phone.’

  51

  ‘Come on, Chris, time to wake up.’ I shake his shoulder and he stirs. He’s been moaning and groaning for the last half an hour, so I figure he is floating just below the surface. ‘Come on, up you get.’ I kneel down and sit him upright, his head slumps forward and he coughs blood and saliva onto his chest.

  ‘What …’ He falls way short of completing the sentence.

  ‘You ran into a pillar and knocked yourself out.’

  ‘Shit, what is this?’ He tries to move his arms but the ties bind them in place.

  ‘You took quite a bang to the head, it must hurt like a bastard.’

  ‘Where the hell am I?’ He manages to lift his head up. It looks like someone has inflated the left side of his face with a bicycle pump, pushing his nose over to one side, his eye completely closed.

  ‘You’re safe, for now.’

  ‘You attacked me!’

  ‘We went for a ride in your car and you ran into a metal stanchion. So, technically—’

  ‘You held a knife to my throat.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I forgot about that.’

  He strikes out with his legs and kicks me in the thigh.

  ‘Remember your hostage training, Chris. The first priority is to work out how to stay alive, and kicking me isn’t going to help.’

  ‘You’re not going to kill me. If you were you would have done it by now.’

  ‘Maybe the time isn’t right.’ I jump up, forcing my knee into his chest and drawing my knife. I hold the blade inches from his good eye. He gasps for air and stares at the tip of the blade. ‘Here, eat this.’ I step off him to unwrap a flapjack and hold it near his mouth. ‘If you bite my fingers I will remove your teeth one at a time.’

  He leans forward and takes a chunk out of the bar. I hold up a water bottle.

  ‘You need to drink.’

  He slurps at the water. ‘It tastes funny.’ He pulls his mouth away.

  ‘With the shot you took to the head everything is going to taste weird, now drink.’

  He gulps down the fluid and motions for more to eat.

  ‘How long have I been here?’

  ‘Long enough.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ He pulls away again splashing water down his chin.

  ‘Complete the mission, Chris.’

  ‘There is no mission, Alex. I told you before.’

  I force more liquid into his mouth and he chokes. ‘I told you before, there is.’

  ‘What’s up with my eye?’

  ‘It’s swollen, like the rest of your face. Good job I don’t have a mirror for you to see for yourself.’

  ‘Don’t go through with it, Alex.’ He looks up at me, squinting through his distended eyelids.

  ‘Too late for that. As the man says, ‘I’ve started so I’ll finish’.’

  ‘That’s a fucking quiz show, this is real life.’

  ‘Yes, it is real life and that makes it all the more important to finish the job. Now that’s enough talking.’

  ‘What are you going to do with me?’

  ‘I said that’s enough!’ I hold the blade against his throat. ‘One more word and I will finish this now.’

  For the next half an hour we sit in silence. I occasionally walk from the changing room to look outside but there is no one about. Gradually his good eye closes and his head lolls over to the side. I lay him down onto the floor.

  The dosage on the side of the box read one to two tablets for a restful night’s sleep. I gave him six crushed up in the water so he should be out for a while.

  I check my watch and pick up the keys. I can’t spend all day chatting. I’ve got things to do.

  * * *

  I glide the car over to the side and park up. I check the mirrors and step out onto the pavement, jangling a handful of change in my pocket. Do you know how difficult it
is to find a working public telephone these days?

  I open the door and push at the filthy buttons. A woman answers and I feed a pound coin into the slot.

  I state my business and the line goes dead and, after what feels like a lifetime, a man picks up. Two minutes of blunt conversation later and I’m back in the car heading out of town towards the zoo.

  I stick to the side roads as much as possible which makes the journey long and tiresome, but I arrive without incident. The clock on the dashboard reads 2:40. The house up ahead is quiet. There is no visible police presence but I cannot take anything for granted. I sit and wait with my latest purchase lying in the boot.

  You would swear I was trying to buy an assault rifle, there were so many questions.

  ‘Who is it for, sir?’

  Never you mind.

  ‘Have you considered other models?’

  No, I want this one because I can take it away now.

  ‘Paying cash, sir, that’s unusual.’

  It’s fucking legal tender, you idiot.

  ‘How about if I throw in this blanket, free of charge.’

  Oh all right then.

  My wilting smile and a slight nod of the head was my answer to every question. I handed over the money and walked out. If everything goes to plan I’m going to need this. The problem is, I’m not sure when.

  I’m mulling over the uncertainty of what lays ahead when the front door opens. My pulse rate spikes.

  I might get to use my new purchase sooner than I thought.

  52

  Kray had reached the conclusion that Tavener’s assessment of stakeouts was very perceptive – she was going off her tits with boredom. But then eight hours spent waiting for something to happen will do that to a person.

  The passenger door swung open and Bagley jumped in carrying a couple of pizza boxes and two cans of coke.

  ‘They were shutting up shop for the night, I got the last two. I hope you like hot and spicy?’

  ‘What’s the alternative?’ He handed her the coke and one of the boxes. ‘I guess it’s hot and spicy then.’

 

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