by steve higgs
Jane had gone around the corner and stepped into the darkened alcove of a shop to wait for us. She emerged into the streetlight as we approached.
‘Hey, guys.' She was smiling.
‘Hey, how’d it go?’ I asked.
Jane sighed and sort of gave herself a hug as she grinned at the sky before fixing her gaze back on us. ‘He is such a sweetie. If I were not already in a relationship…'
‘Err, Jane you seem to have forgotten the bit about him being a crazed stalker that attacks ex-girlfriends with chemicals.’
‘Yeah.’ Said Big Ben. ‘What do you think he would do to you after he lifts your skirt for the first time and finds himself confronted by the last chicken in the butcher’s shop?’
Jane pursed her lips at him. ‘I didn’t say I was going to do anything, did I?’
‘Never mind that, Jane. What did he say? Were you able to get him to talk about voodoo or drugs or being an outright criminal scumbag?’
‘No, I wasn’t.’ she replied, her face taking on the dreamy look again. ‘He told me he works with his mum and dad at their chemical business developing new products for various industries. He showed me a couple of new products that they have intellectual property rights for and said that was how his parents made their money. He goes to church every Sunday and sings in the choir and he is just lovely. He wants to see me again tomorrow night. He said he would plan something and call me.’ She locked eyes with me. ‘I think you have the wrong man.’
‘Really? How much gin did you have?’
‘It has nothing to do with the gin. I just cannot see how that sweet boy is involved in the things you have said.’
‘You met the client, right?’
‘Oh, yeah.’
I rolled my eyes. Bartholomew was a good actor or had created a convincing alter ego that he let the world see while he went about his nefarious activities. Tonight, was a bust.
‘Let's call it a night, okay? Jane, I will be spending tomorrow tailing Bartholomew. If he is involved in the manufacture of crystal meth all I need to do is follow him and work out where he is doing it. There will be trucks to bring raw material in and other vehicles to take the product out. Plus, he will need somewhere big to make it.' Jane had nothing else to say on the matter, so we air kissed back at her car, and she went home. Big Ben waved us goodnight and jogged back towards the town, presumably to walk into a bar and pick up a girl for the night.
I went to bed.
Surveillance. Thursday, November 3rd 0600hrs
I awoke in the dark. Disorientated for a moment, I remembered what I planned to do today and silently groaned to myself. Last night, when my ire was up, I had been determined that today I would follow Bartholomew wherever he went and prove that he was the Magdalene King. Now though, I admitted to myself that I had neither the skill nor the resource to pull something like that off.
Where the heck was Tempest when I needed him? He would know what to do and how to do it. As soon as the thought manifested, I pushed it back down. I rolled over and swung myself out of bed.
Stop being pathetic, Amanda. You don’t need a man to rescue you.
I was going to be a strong woman. I was going to solve this for myself, not for anyone else – other than Kimberly, of course. I was going to be the master of my own destiny, dammit!
Yeah, but wouldn’t it be nice if you married Brett and didn’t have to do any of this?
The question that popped uninvited into my head had my mother’s voice. I ignored it as well and shoved an angry arm into my sports bra as I pulled it over my head. I was going to be the best version of me today. That started with doing some exercise. It would focus my mind and get me ready for the day.
I went out the door just after six o’clock. It was pitch dark and lightly drizzling, but I was going for a run and had Beyoncé in my ears to remind me how powerful I could be.
As she booted a man out of her life, because she could have another man in a minute, I turned away from my apartment and set off on the hard route, the one I really hated that made me run uphill.
Forty minutes later, I staggered back through the door to my place, out of breath, sweaty but elated. Today I was going to be a winner.
There were no spiders or snakes in my apartment. Perhaps the curse had a limited lifespan, or perhaps Bartholomew had bigger issues to attend to. I was going to find out what they were today. My first task was to go to Patience’s place and see if she had come home yet. If she hadn’t, then I needed to go to the station, or at least speak to them as her disappearance ought to now be something they were concerned about.
Breakfast was cream cheese and smoked salmon on a pair of bagels and a bowl of blueberries with natural yoghurt. Proud of myself for starting the day like a champion, I went out the door just after half past seven. The first stop on my list was Patience's building.
There was traffic on the roads already, plenty of it as busy people made their way to work and mums drove kids to school. It was moving though, so the drive to her building took no time at all.
Her car was still there in the same spot, but there were no lights on in her apartment. I went up anyway and hammered on the door loudly enough to ensure she heard me if she was in and asleep, but not so loudly that I would wake all her neighbours.
I waited, but once again there was no response. Praying that she was just hooked up with a man somewhere, but not believing it for a minute, I trudged back out to my car and drove to the police station in the centre of town.
I didn’t park in the car park around the back, I no longer had a pass to get me through the barrier. That had been taken from me as well. Instead, I parked in the visitors’ car park like everyone else and had to put money in the ticket machine.
Manning the front desk was PC Alison French and Sgt Butterworth. I got on well with both.
Alison looked up and spotted me as I came through the front doors. ‘Oh, hi, Amanda.’
Sgt Butterworth turned to see who it was, ‘I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.’ He said, peering over the top of his glasses.
‘I just can’t seem to stay away.’ I replied, rather than get into why he thought I would want to avoid the place. I knew why: CI Quinn hated me and was determined to make my life horrible if he got a chance. ‘I came to ask you about Patience, actually. I want to know if anyone has heard from her. She hasn’t been home in two days and has abandoned her car and phone.’
Alison raised her eyebrows. Sgt Butterworth just tutted. He disliked Patience, with good reason as she was a bitch to him. To be fair Patience was horrible to most men, but some took it well and gave it back as good as they got, others, like Sgt Butterworth, took offence.
‘Have you spoken with her family at all?’ Alison asked.
‘Yes, they don’t know where she is. Her sister suggested she might just be with a man somewhere, but I don’t think she is.’
‘Why is that?’ asked Sgt Butterworth, making no effort to conceal the disdain and boredom in his voice.
‘Because she tells me everything. If there was a man, I would know about it.’
He didn't bother to reply. He found some paperwork to shuffle instead. ‘Look.' I said, addressing Alison. 'I know that officially you cannot do anything about this yet, but I am reporting that PC Woods is missing and may be in trouble.' Behind Alison, Sgt Butterworth gave a quiet snort.
‘I’ll make a few calls.’ Alison assured me.
‘No, you won't.' Sgt Butterworth shot back. ‘You will get on with your job. Miss Woods will report for duty when she is next on shift and be just as unpleasant as usual.' He turned to me. 'I suppose you think she has been taken by your voodoo priest?' he watched my expression. ‘Yes, we all know about your crazy theories now that you work for Tempest Michaels. No doubt there is a spook behind every corner at that ridiculous firm. You can see yourself out.' I was being dismissed. One of their own was missing and might be hurt and I was being dismissed.
Alison flared her eyes at me. She was going
to do what she could, no matter what Sgt Butterworth said. I heard Quinn's voice echoing through to the front desk from somewhere deeper in the station and decided it was time to leave.
I had to find Bartholomew and let him lead me to the crystal meth. I didn't know where he was though, and I couldn't afford to have him spot me tailing him. I had seen his car. If I had friends in the station still, I would be able to get them to look out for it, but I had the feeling that a request for help from me would be less well received than it would have been a few days ago. Quinn had probably threatened them all with disciplinary proceedings if they did help me.
I dismissed the notion of even asking and set off to see if I could find him myself. If I was a drug baron, chemical expert, stalker and fake voodoo priest, where would I be? I decided I would just have to go through a process of elimination and hope for the best. Reluctantly, I pointed the car in the direction of the Magdalene Estate and set off.
Terrance and Trevor. Thursday, November 3rd 1032hrs
Wishing I had a different car because I was worried mine would be easily spotted, I cruised by Mason's house looking for Bartholomew, or at least for Bartholomew's car. I was once again keeping my eyes peeled for Terrance and Trevor and any of their friends.
There were a few people on the street, but the light drizzle had turned into a more persistent rain, typical of this time of year and it was keeping most people inside.
I drove around for a bit, checking the area, but decided I was probably safe so found a place to park that afforded me a good view of Mason's house. I didn't have much of a plan, I admitted. I was going to watch Mason's house for a while and if nothing happened, I would drive to Bearsted and see if Bartholomew turned up there. Sooner or later he had to show up somewhere. I got the impression that he was not afraid of being caught, that he considered it unlikely and that his parents would swiftly deploy the legal team to get him out of trouble anyway.
Ten minutes went by, which slowly turned into twenty and my bum began to get numb from the lack of movement. I had to keep flicking the wipers on so that I could see the house. I worried it would draw attention to the stationary car but kept telling myself I was just being paranoid.
At 1053hrs, according to the little clock in my Mini I heard the familiar rumble of a tuned car. A few seconds later, Bartholomew's Japanese low-slung beast came into view. It parked in the street right outside Mason's house. I had never seen Mason, but a second person got out of the car from the passenger's side with keys to open the house. Bartholomew levered the back seat forward so that an elegant young woman with coffee-coloured skin could exit. He held her hand as she went with him to the house, trailing behind Mason.
I continued watching. One hand hovering over the ignition switch so I was ready to go when he came back out.
I was so focused on the front of the house that I missed Terrance and Trevor sneaking up on me. Just as the front door of the house opened again, so did my car door.
‘Hey, bitch. All alone?’ Trevor asked as he reached into my car and grabbed a handful of my hair. Bartholomew was just getting back into his car and I needed to go. This is what I had been waiting for.
Rather than follow the instinctive move and pull against the hand in my hair, I threw myself toward it. It sent Trevor off balance, but he didn't let go of my hair. He was still off balance and not in control though as he stumbled, so I grabbed his wrist and twisted it against itself. Terrance was moving in to kick me, but with Trevor's right arm now mine to control, I pulled him into Terrance's path and the swinging boot hit Trevor in the head.
There was a string of swear words from both of them and I spotted blood on the pavement. It was coming from Trevor’s eyebrow. He was holding his head. Terrance’s attention was on his friend. I could just dive in my car and get after Bartholomew. He had only just pulled away, I would catch up to him in no time.
I went for it, but as I grabbed the roof of my car to swing into my car seat, I changed my mind. I was bored with Trevor and Terrance. Trevor had his back to me, he was bent over, and Terrance was looking at his face where he had kicked it. I lined up and kicked Trevor square in the balls from behind. His head shot forward and up, connecting with Terrance's nose, which exploded across his face. Trevor was in shock, but the pain did not appear to have hit him yet. I kicked him again, this time in the arse and he tumbled to the ground.
Now I was done.
The House on the Green, Bearsted. Thursday, November 3rd 1121hrs
I caught up with Bartholomew's Nissan GTR before he made it out of the Magdalene Estate. He was heading for Bearsted. I kept myself two cars back as we weaved through Maidstone, but when he turned off the main road and into Bearsted, I had to guess where he was going and drop back for fear of being seen. Way ahead of me, he turned again, this time taking a side turn just after the Green. He was going to his parent's house.
Then it hit me. His parents were in on it.
I checked my thinking. Did it make sense? They were so nice, so placid, but what if they had been criminals all along?
OMFG! What if Mr King was the original Magdalene King? The time line made perfect sense. They were chemical experts, he was old enough to have created the legend thirty or more years back and now Bartholomew was growing up to… What? To take over? To be the new face of the criminal empire?
But was I wholly wrong? Maybe the parents were just chemists. I couldn’t take my suspicions to the Police. CI Quinn would laugh me out of the station. Then, as I was trying to tell myself that I was probably wrong I remembered the door in the corner of their office. The one with stairs going down. I had thought at the time that it might be a wine cellar, but now I was willing to bet that it was a meth lab. Dozens of worker bees down there sweating in the heat as they cooked up drugs to sell to weak-willed individuals.
Suddenly, I was convinced that they were cooking the crystal meth in the lab at their house. I had seen a chemical delivery van leaving their place. They could use their business, fake or otherwise, as a front. I parked my car adjacent to the Green and went on foot.
Tracking across the grass, but sticking to the buildings that bordered the Green, I thought about the house I was heading for. It was massive, with a large extension on the back that they had designed. I needed to find a way to get a look inside the bits of the house I had not seen, especially the bit at the back.
I slunk along the wall of the property next door to sidle up next to the fence that was the edge of their property. I was trying to not be noticed by the persons inside the Kings' house, while at the same time hoping that I did not look like I was conspicuously sidling along the pavement trying to not be noticed by any casual observers looking out of their windows anywhere else in the village. I would need to slip inside the grounds and get a look through some windows. I was hoping I would find somewhere around the back where there was a way to see into the underground lab I was convinced existed.
I stopped at the edge of the property and searched for CCTV cameras that might be monitored inside. The rain was still a steady drizzle that had already soaked my hair and was now beginning to drip down my neck.
For a full minute, I watched the property for signs of movement.
Nothing.
Bartholomew's car was visible, its back end sticking out beyond a wall at the back of the house where I presumed he had parked near to a door. I clambered over the fence and hugged the tree line that bordered their property, then dashed across the open expanse of the driveway to reach the brickwork of the house. The gravel was noisy beneath my feet, but the rain created background noise to lessen the starkness of my movement. The rain was gurgling in gutters and downpipes and dripping in several places where it overflowed to drip, drip, drip onto the gravel many feet below.
I checked behind me once more and set off toward the back of the building. When I had gone inside the first time, Mrs. King had taken me all the way to the lab which I believed was at the back of the building. I had become quite disorientated, so it was h
ard to tell, but she had said it was in the new part of the house they had added, and I hoped it would be obvious which bit that was when I got there.
At the corner of the house, I peered around carefully, not wanting to be seen by anyone that might be outside. There was no one there but along the back of the house, there were lots of windows. If anyone was inside the rooms at the back, they would see me. I checked behind me yet again, my heartbeat demanding I prove to it that I was not about to get caught, then I got on my hands and knees to crawl along the back of the house beneath the windows. My clothes were soaked and possibly wrecked from my efforts.
It wouldn’t matter if I was right.
Jutting out perpendicular from the original house, was an extension that must have been almost one hundred feet long. I could not see how wide it was, but it stretched at least a third of the width of the house and was about one and a half floors tall. I imagined inside it had a vaulted ceiling, so it housed the office Mrs. King had taken me to and inside would be the staircase that led down.
There were windows all along this side of the extension where the corridor inside ran along the wall and all the rooms came off the other side of it. I could not see anything that indicated a cellar though, no ventilation outlet or window in the floor to let in light. Maybe there would be around the other side as I could also not see where a delivery van would collect and deliver goods/products. There was no way I could get along the extension without people in the house seeing me run down the garden. I would have to go back and try to get to the other side of the extension by going all the way around the front of the house.
I turned around and my heart almost came out of my chest. Bartholomew was behind me. He was pointing a taser gun at me. My brain raced as I tried to think of something to say. I didn't have to though because he smiled and pulled the trigger.
Wonderful Diversity. Thursday, November 3rd (I Hope) No Idea What Time It Is.
Someone was touching me. No, something was touching me. It was an object, not a person. It felt more like a wet brush than skin. It was cold rather than warm.
