Tim Heath Thriller Boxset

by Tim Heath

  “Well, as long as you know that whatever it takes, I’m bringing you down.”

  “That’s bold talk coming from someone in such a weak position. I’ve twenty years on you. That’s long enough to bury myself so well that it’s easy to spot any vermin that comes to try and spoil it all. And besides, where can you go now? You can’t even go back home. Last time I checked, your Agency didn’t exist in the same way it once did, and you’re also a wanted man there. I don’t know what your family must be thinking.”

  There was silence at this point. Nigel thought about his last comment and continued.

  “But of course, they wouldn’t send someone back with family, would they? Too easy to track and eradicate. What was it, given up at birth? Abandoned, discarded, like a piece of unwanted trash?” Robert’s blood boiled.

  “And what would you know? You’re nothing more than a murdering fake! You play with life as if it’s a game and don’t even think of the consequences.”

  “What consequences? This is my life now, and I have nothing back in that time that’ll break my heart to lose. And besides, I’m having too much fun here.”

  “Fun? Is that what you call it? You’re a multi-murderer, a thief and a fraud.”

  “Not in this life, I’m not!”

  “What do you mean? This isn’t your life!”

  “It is now. I’ve got all I need to live here. There is nothing that I can’t get now, nothing I can’t buy, no one outside my reach. Can you even start to imagine how that feels? No, of course, you can’t. You’re too busy chasing me to realise that the world has changed. There’ll be no medals for you, no rewards. Where could you take me to? What crimes have I committed that could stand up in court? You’ve given yourself into a life that’ll destroy you. You can’t win, Robert, you just can’t win.”

  “I have nothing else to live for now. I have to finish this.”

  “You sound pathetic now! Admit it; you’ve lost. Go home, wherever that is, and live your life. I’ll even make it all okay for you if you give up the Door you used to come back here.”

  “You would love that, Nigel, wouldn’t you, for me to just stop, to go away! Well, you’ve taken everything away from me, and this is all I have left now. What would I do otherwise? I’ve given my life for this, and I’ve seen you destroy so much that I’m too far into it to ever get out. There’s no going back now.”

  “That’s foolish talk. There’s always a way back if you give up the Door and leave me alone. I promise to make it okay for you.”

  “You promise?” Robert said, now wound up. “Oh yeah, that makes it all okay now because your word means everything, right? Like hell it does! What did you say to those four students while you strung them along for all that time as they worked so hard on that first Door for you, only to see you burn them alive and leave them to rot? I bet you said all sorts of lies to precisely get them to do what you wanted.”

  “I was young and stupid. I saw something I wanted and took it.”

  “No, it wasn’t that simple, Nigel. You planned it all along and then carried it out like an executioner carries out an order. There was no youthful stupidity in that. Greed yes, but you’re a sick man, and you’ll go to any lengths to protect yourself because all you think and care about is yourself!”

  “And you would do well to listen to your own words if I were you.” Nigel sounded almost calm again now. “If you keep pursuing me who knows what I’ll do.”

  “You forget who you are talking to with all these threats. I’m still here, aren’t I? You haven’t stopped me yet, and there is no way that you’re going to stop me later. You see you may feel like you’re way ahead of me and hidden but to me, you’re just a fox, and I’m a hound. I’ve got your scent, and I just need to bide my time, and I’ll find you, don’t think I won’t. And when I do find you that’ll be the end of the game for you. No more playing after that!”

  “Oh please, stop all this cowboy talk, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

  Robert looked down at his watch again, aware of the time he’d been, though not wanting to finish the conversation.

  “Look, I’d best go. You have my number,” and Robert hung up and fell back into the chair, arms flopped over either side.

  21

  Tommy drove to work a different man. Pulling into his usual space just outside the main entrance, he bounded up the stairs two at a time with a kind of schoolboy enthusiasm. He got into his office before anyone had seen him and got his head down, entirely focused on the task ahead.

  Last night had given him the boost he needed. Once and for all it had proved that he and Jessica were merely meant to be. And oddly it was this satisfaction that gave him his new drive that afternoon, a determination to press on and master this big challenge, which was still relatively new to him, as he had to keep reminding himself.

  Not that he took too long to get into the swing of things anyway. Everything in him knew that he could do it and yet life and outside experience said that he was just a rookie. He’d been getting on well with all the new younger lads now at the club who had been sourced and signed by Brendan Charles and his team of people working somewhere behind the scenes. No, the problem had not been with these new arrivals who knew no different, but with the existing players, especially the older ones or the ones that thought themselves something special. It was as if they’d straight away turned their noses up at this young upstart who’d been put in place for some unknown reason which they’d assumed had nothing to do with his managerial ability.

  The battle lines had been drawn, however faintly, right from the beginning and as time went on some were just too stubborn to admit he was doing a good job.

  What remained of this group now was just a core of four players, though they were first-team players and real characters within the dressing room. Their attitudes, more worryingly, had started going onto the pitch with the team, making them play in a way other than that suggested by Tommy and this was not to their benefit. To the average eye, it was just the same old inconsistent team, and the bad results were put down to the fact that so much had changed, but at heart, it was the same under-performing side. But Tommy could see something more profound at work, and he knew it was time to tackle it because if things continued to slide like that, he would have a real problem undoing it all.

  In Tommy’s mind, the solution was clear––to ship out these problematic players and start afresh. The difficulty was that they formed the core of the team as it had been for a long time. They were all experienced players as well and would leave a real hole in the middle of the side.

  Tommy had only had a few weeks with the new lads and was still getting to know them, and he had no way of knowing what they were ultimately capable. But in a moment of decision the previous day he’d decided to take his chances and had discreetly made inquiries through specific agents as to which clubs might be interested in taking these players.

  Finding a home for them shouldn’t be hard, he’d thought, as they were in themselves good experienced players but with Tommy’s ambitions and the financial backing of the club’s owner he also knew that they wouldn’t make it at the very top anyway and this was where Tommy was aiming.

  So when he checked his email, he was pleased to see that the indication from several agents was that there were quite a few clubs interested and they awaited his instruction.

  Tommy smiled and jumped up out of his seat suddenly in need of a good morning coffee and left his office, locking the door behind him, in search of one.

  On the way to the canteen, he paused at the window overlooking the training fields and stood to watch as three of the newer lads were already out there practising, one taking free kicks and the others shooting at goal, alternating between feet each time. Within a couple of minutes, another two lads trotted over, and they all greeted each other warmly and got into things again. Tommy was grinning happily. These were all the new lads, eager to start, much earlier for training than they needed to be but they were hungry, and
that’s what Tommy liked most. They were starting to become good friends, and Tommy knew the signs were good.

  Having watched them for about five minutes he went and got that coffee from a new machine they had just had fitted, it was too early for the canteen staff to be in yet. Besides, the machine coffee used real beans, and it tasted rather good.

  Tommy picked up the large cardboard cup and ambled back to his office, briefly pausing again at the window as he spotted that another two of the younger lads had arrived and were deep into training. Getting back to his office, Tommy felt the last ten minutes, if anything, had reinforced his intentions. Out there on the field now was a group of young, promising players. They weren’t lazy teenagers but boys who were eager to improve, turning up early just to practise more. Where were the older guys? Where were these troublesome four? No, his mind was clear.

  Tommy scanned through the brief details again of the email messages from the agents and selecting a couple of suitable clubs for each of the players, and he typed back replies requesting that trials and meetings be arranged later that day for each of them.

  If he was going to do this, he wanted it done quickly and with as little time wasted as possible. He needed to head them off even as they arrived so that they couldn’t mix another day with any of the other players, especially those kids he’d just seen outside. No, this had to be done that afternoon. Tommy picked up the phone and called the lady in reception, giving her the four players’ names and asking that they each be requested to wait in the room next to the reception as soon as they arrived and that when all four were in, to call him and he’d see them.

  He put the phone down, stood up and walked over to his window that overlooked the car park at the front of the building. A light rain was beginning to fall, small puddles forming on the ground. Starting today, Tommy thought to himself, things were going to be different.

  Jessica had gone to work the next day early and happier than she had ever felt in her entire life. It was almost that the nearer she got to work, the further she felt from Tommy, and that thought bothered her. She felt safe with him, more so than she had ever felt with anyone before.

  Opening up the office and turning on the lights, Jessica put her things down on her desk and fired up her computer. She walked off to the kitchen while it loaded everything so that she could make herself a drink.

  When she came back from the kitchen, she saw a man tapping at the locked front door quietly. It was a homeless guy who she’d seen a few times before.

  He had asked to use the toilet on previous occasions but always spent far too long in there just to be doing that, not that Jessica was overly bothered, at least she was allowing him to be a little cleaner, though you wouldn’t know it through the stench of his dirty and tatty clothes.

  Previously he’d come during the day, and there had been other people around, but now the place wasn’t yet open. She paused there for a moment as his tapping increased into a louder knocking as he saw her. Outside the rain started to get heavy and with his other hand he tried to pull his coat over himself to protect his head but clearly, the jacket was a size or two too small, and Jessica could see it wasn’t doing much.

  She paused but then went over to the doors and let him in, the man coming in without a word and walking off to the toilet. She put the keys on top of her desk while she waited for him to emerge again, trying to make herself busy but not quite succeeding.

  About five minutes later she heard the familiar sound of the toilet door opening, the hinges lacking enough oil so that they gave off a squeak each time they opened. The guy trudged back towards her, his bag in one hand and his other just inside his coat, probably with one of their toilet rolls or maybe some soap. Jessica recognised that he felt happy to help himself and she didn’t know what to do about it, not wanting to leave him outside on his own, and besides when the place was open, it was a public building available to all so there was little she could do about it anyway. He paused when he got near to her, and she started for the door, only going three steps before remembering the keys were on her desk, and she turned around to pick them up.

  As she reached them, the guy suddenly turned, grabbing her hair and pulled what felt like some knife from within his coat.

  She could feel him breathing at her neck and could smell his breath; such was the odour, a mixture of alcohol and rotting teeth. He ran a hand crudely onto her bottom.

  “You know, you are quite beautiful,” he said.

  She froze, a sudden feeling of revulsion overcoming her body and disgust as he grabbed her backside. Sitting on her desk was a giant metal stapler, the kind used for substantial documents and in a moment, without thinking about the danger, she reached for it while he pressed his groin into her. She spun around suddenly and struck him on the head with as much force and venom as she could.

  The blow sent him stumbling back and half turning. Jessica looked down at the stapler, as blood ran down onto her fingers, to see bits of hair and skin plastered to the rough, jagged metal edge. The man fell to the hard floor with a mighty crash, clearly knocked utterly unconscious by that first blow. Blood started to trickle across the floor in a small channel, and the sight of it made Jessica panic for a moment. She ran over to the man, suddenly worried by what she had done, and turned his head slightly, before pulling away at what she saw.

  She suddenly came over hot and needed air, but more than that she needed to call someone. She started to feel sick, only now the thought of what might have happened rushing over her. For what she’d seen made it clear that the man was dead, his eyes staring blankly into nowhere, a horrifying sight for anyone to see, let alone after what had nearly happened to her.

  She reached for her phone and without thinking about it called Brendan, who once he’d got her calm and breathing regularly again, had been shocked at what might have been. He said he’d send someone right round, that she should keep the place shut and not allow anyone else in and that he’d get it all cleared up and would see her later.

  Thirty minutes later the body was gone, and the floor clean. A team of three men had come, without saying a word to Jessica and just worked away. Jessica had waited outside, smoking her way through a whole packet of cheap cigarettes, something she never really did. She had called her other colleagues who were due in that morning, giving them some reason to leave it for a while. She’d put a notice on the door stating that it was closed for technical reasons, but that morning, with the rain now quite heavy, no one had come at all.

  So when the three men walked out with what just as easily could have been a roll of carpet, no one would have thought anything of it. The bag which the guy had with him, as well as the stapler, were also taken away, all to be destroyed, along with the body, as per Brendan’s instructions.

  Their van pulled away without any more fuss, and suddenly Jessica was by herself again, tears now pouring from her eyes like the torrents of rain that were falling all around her, and she felt very alone. A car pulled up at the side of the road, and Brendan got out, large golfing umbrella in hand, and she ran to him like a daughter to a father and embraced him. Jessica buried her head into his chest and cried uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. She wept like she hadn’t done since her father’s death.

  Brendan helped her into the car to keep her dry, but she was already dripping wet having been sitting outside on a wooden bench. Brendan put his jacket on her, and she rested her head on his left shoulder. Strange how safe Jessica felt with Brendan, how he was always in the right place and how Jessica knew to call him at such times. He was like a dad to her, and because of this, she was understandably nervous to mention about seeing Tommy the previous night, not knowing how he would react.

  The car pulled away, and she didn’t care where they were going, but she knew she couldn’t go back to that place––not now, not ever. She’d made up her mind that she didn’t want to be alone anymore, that she didn’t want to work in that place and especially after what had happened––the thought was too
horrible to recall. And deep down it was not the fact that she was upset for striking a man and accidentally killing him after he’d tried to attack her. It was seeing his dead body lying there. The deadman's eyes empty and hollow. It reminded her of that terrible day when she’d found her father hanging in the garden, swinging freely from a tree, rope around his neck, eyes looking into the distance––those haunting, terrible eyes that lacked life.

  They drove around in silence for a while before it all came out in a flood of emotion and Jessica told Brendan everything, all that she was feeling, how she’d had a wonderful time with Tommy, all that had happened that morning and how she couldn’t go back there, wouldn’t go back. She said she wanted to be with Tommy, to move in, live with him, spend each moment with him. Brendan listened well the whole way through, which is what she’d so liked about him, the fact he was a great listener. Brendan kept quiet in his thoughts for the moment, deciding instead to listen and process them later. He was a little surprised to hear about her meeting with Tommy but understood it now, remembering back to his university days when he first dated his wife-to-be, those impulsive moments where you just had to spend time together. Jessica wept as she talked about the memories of her father’s death, struggling even to say the words and never once calling it a suicide, too painful was the whole situation.

  Brendan felt that knot in his stomach tighten again as he remembered back. He looked away as she spoke, pretending to notice something outside, desperate not to give something away in his face or eyes, longing for her to change the subject, to move on. After a few minutes she did, calming down a lot more as she just rested there by his side, head on his shoulder again, and Brendan stroked her hair gently, like a father to a daughter. Brendan sat thinking things through himself as they got to Jessica’s flat and he woke her from her sleep. The driver came round to the side, and together they helped her out, and Brendan walked her to the door slowly, checking that she would be alright and promising to call her later before walking back to the car once she’d gone inside.