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

by Charlie Gallagher

  She used to go out to do the shopping, it would be her only trip during the week, but he had insisted on coming with her and she would hardly be able to breathe. She particularly dreaded the time to pay. The last time she chose a specific queue on purpose, where there was an older lady serving who had a cheerful exterior. She remembered being stood waiting with her head bent when a new till had opened up right next to her and a good-looking young lad had called out for her to come across. She couldn’t refuse. Her anxiety had been so immediate and so strong she was almost sick right there and then. Craig was pushed right up against her the whole time. The man had noticed and stopped any attempts at small talk almost instantly. Craig had still had a go at her as they had walked out and started to lose control of himself. It got out of hand; someone called the police and he had later blamed her for that. It made her so weary. It just wasn’t worth it. Now she ordered the shopping in. Craig still insisted the delivery time was when he was around. It was due early evening. She wanted to be moving freely by then at least — just in case.

  She bent forward to check the contents of the cupboards for today’s dinner. Both her thighs shot with pain. She straightened back up. It was no good: she would have to do a few laps of the house to get her muscles warmed up first, otherwise nothing was going to get done.

  Chapter 12

  ‘So this is where a millionaire hangs out during the day, is it?’ Maddie said.

  ‘I guess so,’ Harry growled.

  They had pulled onto a wide gravelled area where the pebbles were a mix of bright white, slate grey and black. It led to a red-brick, barn-style building that mimicked the numerous farm buildings that had lined their approach. On closer inspection, however, this was a new build, with sleek aluminium windows and a tiled roof with solar panels covering one side. It stood in expansive grounds laid to lawn. In the distance Maddie could see a real barn, this one far more dilapidated and authentic looking. To the left, the lawn sloped until it met a line of trees, while beyond them was a distant canvas of green and brown where the other side of the valley rose up sharply in the distance.

  The gravel crunched under Maddie’s footsteps as they approached from the left side of the building, which looked to be made up mainly of glass. There was a patio area with grey-painted rattan furniture and fixed umbrellas. The entrance door was glass too. Harry pulled it open for Maddie to step in.

  The reception area wasn’t manned. It comprised of four chairs around a glass table on which magazines were carefully arranged to look untidy. The chairs were arranged red-grey-red-grey. The attention to detail was a little sickly — where clinical met modern. Both officers stood hovering around the table rather than opting to disturb a chair.

  There was no reception desk, just a sign on an aluminium pole that requested persons wait to be greeted. It was by an internal oak door that was soon pushed open by a stern-looking young woman. She wore a tight-fitting blouse tucked into a skirt over black tights. She wore black-rimmed glasses and Maddie wondered whether they had a prescription or were simply part of her look. This whole place stank of creating an impression.

  ‘Can I help you?’ She gripped a hardback book in her hand. Maddie saw the year was printed on the front: a diary, and a decent prop if she was looking to fob them off.

  ‘I’m here to speak with Frank Dolton,’ Harry said.

  The woman fixed on him. She delayed enough maybe to prompt him to provide a bit more detail. He just stared right back until she started up again. ‘I’m afraid Mr Dolton isn’t available right now.’ She opened up her book and her manicured fingers flicked at the pages, ‘I might be able to book you in for something next week, but it really depends—’

  ‘He wants to see me today.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to him?’

  ‘No.’

  The woman huffed. She wasn’t getting the detail she needed. ‘So what makes you think that he wishes to speak with you?’

  ‘He spoke to my boss.’

  ‘And who is your boss?’

  ‘Chief Inspector Julian Lowe.’

  ‘Chief Inspector? Like a police officer?’

  ‘Just like one, actually,’ Harry said. Maddie hid her giggle behind her hand. She needn’t have bothered, the woman hadn’t yet cast her so much as a glance.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Also the police,’ Harry replied. ‘Maybe you could tell him we’re here?’

  ‘He has made me quite aware that he is very busy today. He specifically requested that I was to defer all requests of him to a more suitable time and place. Now, if I could just take—’

  ‘Can you tell him it’s about the masturbation thing?’

  Maddie wasn’t expecting that. Nor was the woman, judging by her reaction, but she seemed to get herself together very quickly. She closed up her diary and tucked it under her arm.

  ‘Could you give me a minute, please?’ She was gone before anyone could answer.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Maddie said.

  ‘We weren’t getting anywhere near him. We will now.’

  ‘And in what sort of mood! I get the impression this is not the sort of bloke that wants that sort of information given out to his PA.’

  ‘You don’t know she’s his PA.’

  ‘You’re right, actually. Good point — she could be his wife!’

  ‘She could.’ Harry shrugged.

  The woman returned, holding out a pair of visitor badges. ‘If you’ll come this way.’

  Through the oak door was a wide corridor. Individual offices were off to both sides as they walked through, most were easily large enough for five or six desks; some had more and looked a little cosy. It seemed to Maddie that the building was occupied by several companies. They passed signs for an accountants firm, a marketing firm and some sort of communications company. Frank Dolton was right down the end. His office looked to be the largest and yet there was just one desk at the far end of the room. The left side of the room was almost all glass, taking advantage of the view out over the valley. Maddie had seen worse places to work. Frank Dolton had his name written in frosted lettering on the glass door leading in and on an aluminium nameplate on his desk. Maddie reckoned they were largely decorative — no one was coming in here unaware of whom they were meeting.

  Dolton stood up from behind the desk. He was overweight, despite his attempts to conceal it with a dark-coloured, three-piece suit. His podgy face was the obvious giveaway. His brown hair was combed back and styled by a product of some sort and his bunched-up neck flushed red. He didn’t smile as he proffered his hand to each of them in turn. Maddie couldn’t tell if he was either angry or embarrassed.

  ‘Thank you, Claire. That will be all.’ He looked beyond them to the stern woman still stood behind them.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Claire,’ Maddie said, seeing if she could force the woman to at least look at her. It was the quickest of glances and the lips formed a pout rather than a smile. The glass door closing silently was like a starting gun to Frank Dolton.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here? When I spoke to Julian, I told him I wanted someone to speak to me off the record — away from prying eyes. So you turn up to my office telling all and sundry that you are police officers!’ His voice was low and delivered through gritted teeth.

  ‘You don’t need the foul language, Mr Dolton. It’s a pet hate of mine.’

  ‘In my office, I’ll swear if I want to!’

  But Maddie noticed he didn’t.

  ‘So that is why we are here,’ Harry said. ‘You wanted to speak to someone, isn’t that right?’ His deadpan tone and face did nothing to appease Dolton.

  ‘No! I don’t know why you’re here! This is not something that I wanted to deal with at my place of business. I’ll be calling your boss just as soon as you people get off my premises. You can leave your visitor passes and be careful the door doesn’t hit you on the arse on the way out.’

  ‘I think there’s been a misunderstanding,’ Harry said. He held his groun
d. He had a way of looking like he was sizing people up when just in a conversation. He was doing it now.

  ‘You bet your f . . . damned life there has. I didn’t think Julian would be working with such amateurs — I actually thought more of him! Leave it with me, he said!’

  Harry took a moment. He lifted both eyebrows high to show surprise. ‘Then you have my full apologies.’ He took his card out of his pocket. He turned it over to the blank side and took out a pen. ‘This is my card. My colleague’s details I’ll put on the back, but she just came out for the ride. If you’re upset with anyone, that would be me.’ He turned his card back over and tapped his name. ‘Now if you do want police help, you be sure to give me a call.’

  ‘Came out for the RIDE! What the . . . hell is this? I called you people . . . I tell you something . . . when I’m elected . . . this is exactly the sort of thing . . .’ The shade of red covering his face was distinctly darker. As was his mood. Maddie needed her hand again to conceal her smirk.

  ‘You don’t need our help?’ Harry said.

  ‘Not here! Not like this! I asked for your boss to come to my place this evening to sort something out. He said he might get someone else involved — Blaker, right? That’s who he said. He never mentioned anything about anyone bringing along someone for the ride! This is a joke!’

  ‘Did you expect a different treatment because you know the boss or because you might become the commissioner one day?’

  ‘I don’t like your attitude, Blaker.’

  ‘I came here to help you, sir. Surely that’s an attitude to be applauded.’

  ‘And you couldn’t come out to my place this evening, like I asked? You people are meant to be a twenty-four-seven outfit, for Christ’s sake!’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Dolton’s cheek rippled like he was biting down firmly. It seemed like restraint.

  ‘I understand you might be the victim of an extortion or a blackmail?’ Harry tried again. ‘Is that right?’

  ‘Yes. Well, maybe. But I don’t wish to discuss it. I’ll call Julian and see if I can get some professionals to deal with it.’

  ‘Professionals?’

  ‘Yeah. Not a couple off the street, turning up at my place of work unannounced trying to force a situation where I am required to humiliate myself in front of a woman I don’t know from Eve and who just popped along for the ride!’

  Maddie felt like she had been silent long enough. ‘Humiliating yourself in front of a strange woman is the reason we are here, is it not?’ she said. ‘We both know what happened. We’ve had the briefing. This isn’t unusual — I’ve dealt with a number of very similar cases. You’ve nothing to feel humiliated about. You’re a victim. I suggest we get the details we need and then we can make a start on finding out who’s really caused you all this upset. Because it wasn’t either of us. Sir.’

  Dolton’s mouth flapped a few more times. He shook his head. He seemed to make a decision. ‘No, you know what? I don’t need you. I dealt with it. I did it my way, so it’s done. I think I’ll just leave it at that.’

  Harry shrugged, ‘I’m disappointed, sir. We might be able to do something, maybe even—’

  ‘I think we’re done here.’

  Maddie knew that Harry didn’t take kindly to being talked over. He fell silent, as if to give Dolton an opportunity to back down and apologise. He didn’t take it.

  ‘You have my number if you change your mind,’ Harry said, at last.

  Dolton pressed something on his desk phone. The outline of blouse and skirt was quick to appear in the frosted glass — too quick. Maddie was sure Claire must have been waiting just around the corner.

  ‘Sir?’ Claire said curtly.

  ‘Would you show these people out?’ Frank said. He sat back in his seat and shifted his monitor, clicking his mouse firmly.

  Maddie allowed herself to be led away. She waited until they had lost their escort and were clear of the building. ‘Thanks for that!’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘He’s probably already on the phone to Lowe. Me and the DCI are already a little up and down to say the least. I’d rather he wasn’t contending with complaints from the next commissioner with my name attached.’

  ‘I’ll tell him what happened.’

  ‘What did happen?’

  ‘I’ll tell him his mate wants special treatment because of who he is, what he is and how rich he is. Life doesn’t work like that. The commissioner, of all people, needs to know that.’

  ‘That’s exactly how life works!’ Maddie said.

  Harry fixed her with a fiery look. ‘Well, it shouldn’t.’

  ‘Is that what that was about?’

  ‘It wasn’t about anything. He gets the same service as anyone. Or none at all.’

  Maddie held up her hands. ‘For what it’s worth, I agree with you. It’s just the DCI who might not.’

  Chapter 13

  Ian Hughes hesitated at the end of his daughter’s drive. He hadn’t been there for a while, and the last time hadn’t gone so well. From being so close, all they seemed to do now was argue. He knew why. Her boyfriend Craig was why. His daughter was nothing more than an extension of him now. He was controlling, arrogant and moody and Ian had never hated a man more. He was pretty sure Craig felt the same about him too. Certainly he’d made it clear that Ian wasn’t welcome at the home and Grace had ratified it, although he knew she did so under duress.

  Seeing his daughter as regularly as he had always done was now impossible. He kept trying at first, at least once a week, but they were always ‘on their way out’ or ‘busy’. Ian had almost considered giving up, but then he heard that Craig had got a new job that would keep him out of the house all day and he began trying again. He thought that, if he could get Grace alone, she would be the same girl he had known and loved her whole life with every ounce of his being — the more so since they had lost her mother. But she wasn’t: she was distant, guarded and insecure. They argued. He kept coming round and trying, but she soon stopped answering the door when she was there on her own. It had been six weeks since he had seen her last. She might have thought he had given up, but the pull to see his daughter, even if just for a few minutes, was only getting stronger.

  The drive was empty as he approached. Craig drove a silver Volkswagen estate car that he used for his job delivering parcels. He worked only until the late afternoon most days. It wouldn’t be long until he was home. Ian had timed it like that on purpose. He knew Grace would want him gone before Craig got home. That might prompt her to answer the door. Even being told to go was better than not seeing her at all. He just wanted five minutes, but just to see her and to be able to confirm her existence was a start.

  ‘Be calm, Ian. Be clever,’ he muttered to himself. His eyes never left the front door. He just needed to see how she was, just a bit of small talk. Maybe he could lay the building blocks for some sort of relationship again. He sucked in a breath, walked to the door and pressed the doorbell.

  There was no answer. He left it half a minute or so before he pressed it again and then stepped back. The blinds at the living room window were turned enough to restrict the view, but he could still see in a little if he pushed himself up close to the glass. There was movement, and his eyes were drawn to it. He could make out a figure. It was Grace. She was in a long nightie and was stooped over the sofa. Her head was turned away. He watched her push herself off and take a few steps towards the kitchen. She moved awkwardly, like someone who was in a lot of pain. She reached the next sofa and used it for support. She looked like she was recovering her strength to move again.

  He thumped hard on the window. Grace turned as if she had been stung. Her eyes were instantly wide; they looked to be filled with terror as they met with his own. Then she grimaced; the pain was clear on her face. He thumped again.

  ‘GRACE! YOU’RE HURT?’ he bellowed.

  She shook her head and gestured with her hand. Her message was clear: she wasn’t replying to him, she was tel
ling him not to be there, she was gesturing for him to go.

  He was going nowhere. He could see she was in pain. He moved back to the door and thumped as hard as he could. He tested the handle; it wouldn’t give — double-locked. He pushed the door. It didn’t have much flex in it but the panel that made up the bottom half of the door looked to be a weakness. She had a minute to open up or he was kicking it through. He knocked again. He pressed the bell too. A shape appeared through a frosted panel in the top of the door, long and white.

  She pulled the door just a couple of inches, just enough for him to see her face. It was still tinged with pain despite her best efforts to smile. She looked tired — exhausted. Her eyes were heavy; her face was pale and red with a rash of spots. She barely looked like the girl he remembered.

  ‘I need to come in, Grace. I need to talk to you. I can see you’re hurt, what happened to you?’

  ‘I’m fine, Dad! You can’t come in. It’s late. Craig will be home soon, I know you don’t like to be here with him. I know you don’t get on. Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning? I’ll have some time to make you a tea then.’ She smiled again. It was empty, serving only to tug at the bags under her eyes.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Grace. The sooner you let me in the better, if you want me gone by the time he gets back. I just need to be sure you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m fine! I told you that.’

  ‘I heard what you said.’ Ian stood firm. He stared his daughter down. She didn’t have a response. Finally, she stepped back and he pushed the door wide open. She’d moved back to lean against the wall in the hallway. He stepped in. The house smelt delicious, like something spicy was cooking.