END GAME a gripping crime thriller full of breathtaking twists Page 12

  ‘It’s a new pack of ten, ain’t it? I got it this morning.’

  ‘Take two out and stick ’em in your pocket. You got anything else on you?’

  ‘Nah.’

  ‘You got a lighter?’

  ‘Oh yeah. I’ll need that.’

  The couple fell silent. Tommy took another swig. An old woman walked past and eyed the can of beer.

  ‘The fuck you looking at, you dopey old bitch?’

  The woman looked away and speeded up.

  ‘Fucking people in this town.’ Tommy got no response. ‘I’m going to McDonalds. You want anything in there?’

  ‘Nah. Have you got money?’ Susan looked at him suspiciously.

  ‘You know I ain’t, Suze.’ He gave her a broad, toothless grin.

  ‘Nah, I’m alright.’

  ‘Back in a minute.’

  McDonalds was quiet. The breakfast rush was over, leaving a group of kids in a booth excitedly conversing in French and two women at the counter, both in short leather jackets over leggings. The women were having some difficulty explaining what they wanted. Tommy stopped behind them and swore.

  ‘So where are you ladies from originally?’ asked the man behind the counter.

  ‘Romania,’ the girls chorused.

  ‘Of course you fucking are.’ Tommy said. He gestured with his beer can. ‘Ain’t no English left in this town no more. You lot coming over here bleeding us dry.’

  ‘Sir, you can’t drink that in here. I think you should leave.’ Then to the two women, ‘I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘What you say? I can’t drink this?’ Tommy threw the can at the man behind the counter, who ducked. It flew past him and hit the ovens. A second employee emerged from the rear.

  ‘Sir, you need to leave now or I will call the police.’

  Tommy smiled. ‘Call the fucking police, call them whatever the fuck you like! This place is a shit hole anyway.’ Tommy made for the exit. He passed the table where the kids sat watching the goings-on. Tommy scooped up two packets of chips from their table and tipped one into his mouth. He lifted the other in the air.

  ‘Agincourt!’ he shouted. The double doors closed behind him.

  * * *

  Constable John Adams was waiting for a red light to change when the call came in.

  ‘He’s wearing a long, dark jacket and camouflage trousers. The male was racially abusive to staff and customers. He stole food then left the shop. The informant said that he was drinking alcohol.’

  John rolled his eyes and put his mouth to the radio. ‘Understood, control, I’m just round the corner. I’ll take a look.’

  The McDonalds was just ahead on his right. The lights changed and John got a clear view of a man in a waxed jacket and combats, leaning on the metal railings. He was giving the finger to John’s marked police car.

  John rounded the corner and parked. He took his time putting on his hat and adjusting it. The man continued to lean on the railings, drinking from a can of beer.

  John approached him. ‘Do you have some sort of problem?’

  ‘That how you talk to people?’

  ‘It’s how I talk to people making obscene gestures at me for no reason.’

  ‘Who says I was?’

  ‘Me.’

  The man looked John up and down. ‘You’re a big fucker, ain’t yer? That why you think you can bully people, is it? You making up for when you was in school and the other boys bullied you?’

  John smiled broadly. ‘If I had a pound for every time I’ve been told that, I reckon I’d be long retired by now.’

  ‘What about cunt? You ever been called a cunt before?’

  The smile dropped. ‘You’re under arrest.’

  ‘Am I now? What’s that for then? Having an opinion?’

  ‘No. Theft.’

  The man stepped towards him. ‘What have I nicked then?’

  John took out his cuffs.

  ‘Food,’ he said. He reached for the man’s arm.

  ‘Well, that’s a fucking shit thing to get nicked for, ain’t it?’ The man stepped back and pushed the can into John’s face. The blow struck John’s nose, but he came roaring back. He hit the man hard in the abdomen, winding him. He fell to the floor, gasping like a landed fish. John snapped the cuffs on, wiped the beer off his face and radioed for a van.

  There was no way this beer-soaked piece of shit was sitting in the back of his car.

  * * *

  The Mercedes Sprinter van arrived with its lights spinning, just minutes after John’s call. Tommy was flung into the back, where he missed the bench and fell to the floor. The cage doors slammed shut and Tommy struggled to his feet. The officer who’d nicked him spoke through the mesh.

  ‘My colleague here knows you, Tommy Wilkes. You’re on a court order not to be drinking in a public place.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I need a piss.’

  ‘I think you do know, Tommy. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re also under arrest for assaulting a policeman. The time is 09.30.’ The officer wrote this down in his notebook.

  ‘I need a fucking piss!’

  ‘You’re an adult. We’re five minutes from Langthorne custody.’

  ‘I need a piss now!’

  ‘You’ve got a cheek, haven’t you? You punch me in the face and then you expect me to help you out?’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck. I’ll piss right here then.’

  The officer sighed. ‘Then you’ll be charged with criminal damage as well.’

  Tommy Wilkes laughed. He was still laughing when he pulled his penis out. He made sure he got a good amount on his own trousers.

  The rear doors slammed shut, there was a bang on the side and the van pulled away.

  Chapter 26

  ‘It isn’t an interview I want, Inspector Lance.’ Kane cocked his head, as if he were studying the man standing over him. The two uniforms were on either side, stiff as bookends.

  ‘I did want to talk to you but like I said, in private.’

  Barry turned to the uniforms. ‘I’ll speak to the prisoner in the consultation room. You can wait outside.’

  The officer stared at Barry. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Like I said, you can wait outside. I’ll know where you are if I need you.’

  The two officers still hesitated. ‘We’ll get a cup of coffee then. Do you want one, sir?’

  ‘No thank you.’

  Kane stood up. ‘Me neither. The coffee is just as bad as I expected.’

  The consultation room was tiny. Barry and Kane stood facing each other with very little space between them.

  The door clicked shut, and Barry began at once. ‘Where’s my wife? And you’d better make it quick because I’m starting to run very low on patience.’

  ‘Listen, Inspector Lance. Your wife is fine, but her safety is very much linked to mine. Do you understand?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘George Elms is what I mean.’

  Barry was taken aback. ‘What does he have to do with it?’

  ‘He’s not planning on me making it out of here alive.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I talked to him and he made it quite clear. He told me he was getting me out of here so he could deliver justice his own way. I think we both know what that means, Inspector.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Look, I came here to put an end to it all. Once you people worked out who I was, I knew it was all over. I couldn’t cope with being hunted like a dog, waiting for you lot to come kick my door in. I knew it was just a matter of time. I was going to use your wife as leverage to get away from here and find out what you knew. I thought maybe you could keep the investigation away from me, but I ran out of time. I knew that if I waited for you to arrest me I’d most likely get hurt, so I came in. I admitted everything in front of your cameras. I don’t want any more stress. You can have your wife back, and I mean that. I just want this over.’

  ‘F
ine. So tell me where she is.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that, Barry. I need to make it to prison. It’s not such a bad option. I’ll be a bit of a legend in there, and there’s nothing left for me on the outside.’

  Barry looked at him. ‘A legend? Is that what you think?’

  ‘I know it. We both know criminals, Barry. A cop killer, nine times over!’ Kane’s eyes suddenly widened. ‘I had you people on the ropes. That will be known on the inside. I’ll be looked after, maybe even feared.’

  ‘Believe what you want.’ Barry shook his head.

  ‘Just get me to prison. The second I walk in, I get my rights to a phone call, and you’re it. She’s fine now, but she’s not a well woman, Barry. If she’s left alone for much longer, she will die.’

  Barry lunged forward and pinned Kane against the wall.

  ‘You can kill me,’ gasped Kane, ‘but you’ll kill your wife too.’

  ‘Where is she?’ Barry’s grip tightened.

  ‘I’ll tell you.’

  Barry let go and stepped back.

  Kane took a few moments to recover. ‘Get me into prison. Keep that psycho away from me, and you have my word I will give you what you need to save Shelley’s life.’

  ‘Your word? What fucking good is your word?’

  ‘It’s all you have.’

  Chapter 27

  Helen Webb was lying on the ground in the corner of the dark warehouse in her filthy underwear. The chair had gone and so had the chains. She touched her head gingerly. She had expected to be interrogated, but instead was beaten until she lost consciousness. Several times. She was hungry, and her throat was dry. Her face and ribs hurt the most. From where she lay, she could see the door through which her tormentor came and went. They were using a tactic she was only too familiar with — a little kindness, a promise of release, followed by a senseless beating. Knowing what they were doing didn’t help her, though. Helen was resigned to dying here.

  She heard a footstep behind her but didn’t have the energy to lift her head to look. She screwed her eyes tight shut and tried to think of her twin daughters. All she wanted was to see them once more, and say goodbye. The footsteps drew closer. She could feel his breath against her cheek.

  ‘Helen Webb. You are under arrest.’

  Now what were they up to? A new game and a different voice, someone she hadn’t heard before. She tried to turn and groaned.

  ‘Don’t try to move. How badly hurt are you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ It came out as a whimper, which made her angry — she was stronger than that.

  ‘Where are they?’ he said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The men who did this?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s been just one, mainly. He comes from there.’ Helen pointed towards the door. She tried to sit and felt his hands in her armpits, pulling her up. The man stepped back and looked around.

  He spoke in a harsh whisper. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘I think so.’

  He nodded, and looked around. He appeared to be searching for something. The chain that had been used to restrain Helen lay in a pile beside the door. The man walked towards it.

  ‘Get to your feet.’

  The man went to the door and put his ear against it. Then he stepped into the shadows, out of sight. Helen tried to move and decided that the pain was mostly stiffness and bruising. Her face was swollen, one of her eyes was half closed and two teeth were loose. Flexing her bruised muscles was agony.

  ‘Are you bad?’ The man padded back and squatted beside her, looking concerned.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You look bad.’

  ‘Thanks. Nothing’s broken. I think it’s just bruising.’

  ‘We have to get going. I don’t know how much time we have.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Helen pushed at the hair stuck to her sweaty forehead.

  ‘I’m a police officer. I’ve been working undercover in one of Alcani’s crews. You can call me Mick.’

  ‘You’re police? Here? I had no idea we were still . . . you know.’

  ‘Not many do. After the last operation they had the grand idea of having me stay on. They figured the family wouldn’t think we’d leave any coppers here after that.’

  ‘Sounds risky.’ Helen was dubious.

  ‘Tell me about it. Look, we need to get going.’

  ‘Going where?’ Helen tried bending her legs. They seemed to be working.

  ‘Custody. Unless you’d rather stay here?’

  Helen put her weight on her legs, which trembled. ‘You know who I am then?’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Mick said, ‘and I know what you did.’

  ‘So why not leave me here? You’re putting yourself at enormous risk. These people won’t think twice—’

  ‘I know all about these people. You need to face up to what you did, and who you did it to. But not like this.’

  Suddenly the door opened. Mick reacted instantly, and merged into the shadows. The man at the door looked at Helen standing in front of him.

  ‘Where the fuck have you been?’ she snarled. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to come back and finish me off. Unless you can’t manage it on your own!’

  The man grunted. He stepped towards her, his hands bunched, ready to strike. With a faint chinking sound, Mick slipped the chain deftly over his head. He pulled it tight around the man’s throat. The man scrabbled at the cold metal until all movement ceased and Mick let him drop to the ground.

  ‘He’s dead.’ Mick’s voice held shock.

  ‘Good.’ Helen looked about her until she spotted a pile of rags flung into a corner. She dug out her hooded top. Her boots were underneath, but she couldn’t find her trousers.

  ‘We have to go!’ Mick called out.

  ‘I can’t find my trousers.’

  ‘Put on anything. I just killed a man. We can’t wait.’ Mick had already turned away.

  ‘Dammit.’ Helen stumbled after him, her face contorted in pain.

  Chapter 28

  Mick had made her sit in the rear of the van. He was in a hurry. Thrown about against the hard wooden benches, Helen groaned.

  Mick almost reached the gate before he was forced to stop.

  ‘Keep your head down,’ he said through clenched teeth. Danesh Alcani was strolling out of the Portakabin with his arm raised. Mick took a deep breath and rolled his window down.

  ‘Mr Alcani.’ Mick did his best to sound cheery. ‘You having a better day today?’

  ‘Always a good day here, Mick.’

  Meek. Why did he have to do it? ‘What can I do for you? You got your money from the other night, right?’

  Danesh leant on the window frame and peered into the cab. The seat backs blocked any view of the back.

  ‘I got my money. I always get my money. What brings you back here today, Mick? I didn’t get a call.’

  ‘Really? Sorry. We’re looking at another job. We might need something with a bit more bite for this one, a bit more industrial, you know? I was seeing what’s available and how portable it might be.’

  ‘Did you find what you need?’

  ‘I saw some possibles.’

  ‘Did you take them, Mick?’ Danesh glared at him.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’

  ‘Yeah. There is something wrong, Mick. Seems we’ve had some stuff go missing from the site. Some tools, heavy cutting equipment. The sort of stuff you might be talking about, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘You think someone’s stealing from you? From Alcani’s yard? You’d have to be pretty fucking stupid to do that, Danesh. I ain’t that stupid.’

  ‘Pop the back of the van, will you, Mick?’ Danesh stepped back and nodded. A second man walked towards the rear of the van and pulled at the doors. They were locked.

  Mick left the engine running. He jumped out and strode to the rear of the van.

  ‘What the fuck is all this about? You accusing me of stealing?’

  ‘When I ask you
to open your van, you open your fucking van. You remember who you work for, Mick, or I’ll have to find a way of reminding you.’

  ‘Do it then. Find a way. I don’t work for you, that’s for fucking sure. You’re just the man who answers the phone. You think you can strut around, accusing me of stealing your shit? I give your family forty grand for one night’s work and then you accuse me of stealing — what? Some tools?’

  ‘Back the fuck down, Mick, or you’ll be backed down permanently.’

  ‘Do it then. Fucking do it. You and your man here, if you can’t manage it by yourself.’

  Danesh took a step forward and Mick readied himself for the blow. Then he heard a voice.

  ‘Danesh! What the fuck’s going on here?’ Sol Alcani strode towards them.

  ‘There’s a problem. This fucker thinks he can get up in my face. Thinks he don’t need to follow instructions when he’s on my site.’

  ‘This ain’t your site.’ Sol turned away from his brother and faced Mick. ‘What’s the problem here?’

  ‘I didn’t have no problem. I work one of your cash crews. We did a job just last night — earned you forty grand. We’ve got our eye out for another, but it’s gonna need some more equipment. I was just seeing what you’ve got.’

  ‘You find what you was looking for?’

  ‘Possibly. It depends on whether you can move your sheet metal cutting machine.’

  Sol shook his head. ‘It’s not meant to be moved, and even if you could, you’d have a problem powering the thing. It’s not your standard plug.’

  ‘I thought that. I was going back to the snatch site, to see what can be done. I don’t like to give up easy.’

  Sol smiled. ‘I respect that. I heard about the cash-snatch job. Sounds like it was a good, clean job.’

  ‘It went well. It was planned to go well, and it did.’

  ‘You would have been up all night too and here you are, back on the next job. What’s your name?’

  ‘Mick.’

  ‘Well, Mick, how did you go from showing my family the respect of a forty-thousand-pound deposit to fronting up my brother on our turf?’ Sol’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Respect is a two way thing. At least, that’s the way I see it. I did what I needed to and I was on my way back to the snatch site. I’m grafting for both you and me here. Your brother here stops me and starts accusing me of stealing your stuff. Okay I’m a thief, but I choose who I steal from and I wouldn’t choose you.’