A Need To Kill (DI Matt Barnes) (51 page)

“
Do you want me drive down and spend some time with you, darling?” Vincent said.

“
No, Munchkin.  Honestly.  You know what I’m like.  A little solitude always helps me to get my head around things.”

“
You need more than a couple of days away, darling.  When you get back, we’ll fly out to Antigua for a week or two.  How does that sound?”

“
You spoil me.”

“
I like to see you happy, that’s all.  Give me a call tomorrow.  I’ll be at the office all day.”

“
I’ll do that.  Take care, my love.”

“
And you.  Bye for now.  I love you.”

He meant well.  She knew that.  But Vincent was an inconvenience.  Truth was, she would be happy when he snuffed it.  His heart was shot, and he was a month short of his seventy-third birthday.  Once everything was in her name, she might spend more time with
Norman.  He was her kind of man.  And he even knew how to pop her cork. Maybe it was the leg.  She got a thrill out of undoing the straps and easing it off the stump; peeling off the sock like a condom, and running her fingers over the soft, fleshy knob.  It always got her juices flowing.  The disablement made him in some way vulnerable. Yes.  She would see a lot more of Norman when Vincent’s pump finally blew up.

It was dusk when she pulled the Mercedes into a break in the hedgerow.  She would walk the last few hundred yards.  She got out and went to the boot.  Pulled on a wax jacket, swapped her court shoes for sturdy walking shoes, and
then broke the over and under Remington, loaded both barrels with heavy gauge cartridges and set off through the trees, more than ready to blow the shit out of her despicable nephew.

Lucas was sitting in the lounge, eating a cheese and onion sandwich.  He had a glass of milk on the coffee table in front of him, that he kept noisily sipping from.  Julie was still on a twine leash, but now had a proper collar around her neck, courtesy of the collie.

“That can be your new name,” Lucas said, spitting crumbs as he talked; reaching out to flick the brass disc that was engraved SAM, with the address and phone number beneath.  “I’ll call you Sam from now on.  Think of a new name for me.”

As directed, Julie was tending to Lucas
’s ankle.  She had bathed the deep puncture holes, then dried the bite wound and used a cotton wool bud to apply antiseptic. Everything they had needed was found in a first aid box stored in a kitchen cupboard.  Many names that she would like to have called Lucas sprang to mind.  But she refrained from suggesting them.

“
How about Sean?” she suggested.  “You have a look of that actor, Sean Bean.”

“
Sounds Irish,” Lucas said.  “I’m not a fucking Mick.”

“
Neither is Sean Bean,” Julie argued.  “He’s from Yorkshire.  Sheffield I think.  And what about Sean Connery, isn’t he Scottish?”

“
Still sounds Irish.  I don’t like it.  Think of something better.”

“
Nick,” Julie said.

Lucas said the name aloud. 
“Nick...Nick,” and liked the sound of it.  “Nick it is,” he said.  From now on we are Nick and Samantha...Walker...no, Edwards.  Okay?”

Why ask
me, you murdering bastard?
  “Yes, Nick,” she said, finishing up wrapping a self-adhesive bandage around his ankle.

He let go of the twine.  Undid the collar and threw it into the hearth.  It was time to put Jul...Sam
antha on trust.  If they were to be together for any length of time, then he could not keep her tied up or restrained indefinitely.  If she fouled up, then she would wind up like all the others.  Ultimately, it would have to be her decision.  He would still drug her at night, and would be vigilant, always ready for her to do the unexpected.  It would keep him sharp.

Marjorie could not find a gap in the curtains to look through.  She could hear the radio playing, so knew that Lucas was inside.  She had hoped to creep up under cover of darkness and shoot him through the window, but it was not going to be that easy.
She took a spare key from her pocket and carefully eased it into the lock, to turn it with the feather-light touch of a safe breaker manipulating the dial of a combination lock. Withdrawing the key and silently opening the door and entering the hall, she held the shotgun at waist level, her finger curled around the trigger.  She was an excellent shot, and this would be a lot easier than skeet or pheasant shooting.  There would be no talking or preamble.  The second she saw him, she would blow him to kingdom come.

Outside the lounge door.  She took deep breaths and licked away the beads of sweat that were forming on her top lip.  The advantage was wholly with her.  When she burst in, she would be ready to act immediately, whereas Lucas would be caught by surprise, and dead before he could react to the attack.

One...two...three.  Marjory threw the door open and took less than a second to target the figure on the settee.

Matt
stopped once en route to fill up with petrol.  They all used the garage toilet, and bought coffee to go.

Before
Matt started the car to continue the journey, his mobile rang.  He sighed as he saw the caller ID.  “Yeah.”

“
Why aren’t you here?”

“
We got a lead, Tom.  Thought I’d follow it up before heading back.”

“
What lead?”

“
Marjory Walters.  She’s done a runner.  Left home a few hours ago.  We’ve been trying to track her down.”

“
And you call that a lead?”

“
It could be.  She might be with Downey.”

“
And she could be on her back in a hotel room with a toy boy.”

“
Yeah, well.  The timing makes me suspicious.”

“
Have you got anything to warrant my holding off on the short list of properties we’ve highlighted?”

“
No.”

“
Then I’m authorising raids on them.  Any problem with that?”

“
Can’t think of one.  Just make sure they try to bring Julie out on her feet and not in a body bag.”

“
They’ve been briefed.  What’s your current location?”

“
Still out at Maidenhead.  We’ll head back.”

“
You’re too late to be a part of it, Matt.  Grab a bite to eat.  I’ll be out in the field coordinating this caper.”

“
See you later, Tom.  Hope you get him.”

It was as Tom was heading down in the lift to the car park that it hit him. 
Matt had been too laid-back over the operation.  Not concerned that he wasn’t in the thick of things.  It was totally out of character.  Matt, along his loyal sidekick, Deakin, and Beth Holder were on to something, and Matt was reverting to loose cannon mode.  The bastard was like Bronson in his vigilante role.  Being a cop and legally carrying a firearm was the only real difference between them.

The lift door slid open, but Tom did not step out, instead he hit th
e button and went back up.  He would oversee the operation from the Yard.  He now knew that it would not turn up Downey.  Matt was homed-in on the killer, of that he was almost sure.  He poured himself a coffee, black, lit a cigarette and settled at his desk.  Allowed his temper to fall below boiling point before calling Matt again.  No answer.  He looked up Pete Deakin’s number and tried it.  Same result.  Phoning Beth was a waste of time, but he did anyway.  The three of them were incommunicado.  He resorted to texting Matt:
CONTACT ME INSIDE 10 MINS. THAT’S AN ORDER.

It was exactly nine minutes and fifty seconds later when he got a text message back:
RELAX, TOM.  U KNOW I LIKE TO FOLLOW MY NOSE.  WILL CALL U AGAIN SOONEST.

There was nothing Tom could do.  His ulcer flared up and gave him heartburn.  He reached into his pocket for the packet of antacid tablets he always carried.  Chewed two.  Damn
Barnes!  What had he found out?  Where was he?  No way of knowing. Unless he put the Discovery’s registration out, managed to get a sighting, and was ready and in time to go in when Matt got wherever that nose of his was leading him.

Julie stared in horror, not at the woman, but at the two black maws at the end of the barrels that were pointing directly and unwaveringly at her.

“
Where’s Lucas?” Marjory asked the young woman who was sitting with her feet curled up beneath her on the settee.

Even as she finished asking, she knew the answer.  Felt the hot breath on her neck as one arm went around her
throat and the other gripped the twin barrels of the shotgun and jerked them up.

The blast was deafening in the confined space.  All three of them froze as
a tight clump of lead shot blew a fist-sized hole in the low ceiling, to send a snowstorm of plaster down onto the carpet.

Julie covered her eyes, sure that the woman was about to have the gun turned on her.  She did not want to bear witness to Lucas discharging it into a human face, and to always have the image of that moment etched into her brain.  Seeing the man and his dog killed was more than enough horror for a lifetime.

Lucas brought the hot barrels up and across Marjory’s throat to exert enough pressure to render her unconscious.  Releasing his grip, he let her slack body fall to the floor.

“
What a family!” Lucas said to Julie.  “Can you believe that this is my auntie?  I think she must bear me a grudge for some reason.”

Marjory came to coughing and spluttering.  She was naked, sat on the floor in the kitchen with her hands tied behind her back.

“Get up, Marjory, I want to show you something,” Lucas said from where he was sitting next to Julie at the table.

Marjory struggled to her knees, then up to her feet.  She was dizzy, and swayed on the spot, fighting to stay upright.

Lucas walked over to her and opened the lid of the freezer.  “Look what I caught out in the front garden earlier today,” he said, grasping her by the arm and twisting her around.

Marjory looked down into the humming cabinet, moaned and attempted to back away.  What she saw made her bladder void.

It was Norman.  He was lying on his side, knees up to his chest, with his head turned so that he faced her.  He was already frosting up, and his blue eyes were glazed below the rent in his forehead.  His hair was now red, not grey.  And Sam was in there with him.  The dog’s black lips were drawn back in a rictus snarl.

Lucas grasped a handful of
Marjory’s hair and forced her head forward, over the edge, to within a few inches of the dead man’s face.

“
Spine chilling eh, Auntie?  Enough to freeze your blood. He said he was a friend of yours, and any friend of yours is an enemy of mine.  Now, he’s just a popsicle.”

He pulled her up
right and faced her.  “Why, Marjory?  Is it in the genes?  Do all of us Downeys’ have a killer instinct?”

“
I was just going to threaten you, Lucas.  Try to warn you off.  That’s all, I promise.”

“
You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“
I―”

“
Enough.  No more talk.  Get in there with ‘one man and his dog’.  I think you need to cool down and reflect on what an odious old bitch you are.”

“
No, Lucas.  PLEEAASSE!  Don’t do this.  Let me go.  I’ll do anything you ask.”

“
I’m asking you to get your sad arse in the freezer.  Now, DO IT.”

Marjory went rigid.  Her muscles seized up with fear.  There was no way she could have moved an inch, even to save her life.

Lucas put a hand between her legs, jerked her up and levered her into the cabinet.  Heard the dull thud of her head hitting the inside wall, and listened to the loud, frantic scream become muffled as he slammed the lid down.

“
How long do you think she’ll last?” Lucas said to Julie as he hoisted himself up to sit on the top of the freezer.

“
Do you really need to do this, Lucas?” Julie said.  “If she’s missed, then her husband or someone will check this place out.”

“
Nick,” he said.  “Remember, it’s Nick and Samantha now.”

“
Okay, Nick.  Think about it.  What good is she to us dead?”

Lucas considered it.  Maybe he
was
being a little impulsive, but not without provocation.  The stupid whore had come all this way with the sole purpose of gunning him down in cold blood.  A little extreme, to say the least.  He found it hard to concentrate.  Could feel and hear the thuds beneath him.  She was trying to kick the lid open.  He closed his eyes to mull things over.  It was getting very complicated.

‘
Why not just throw Julie, Samantha, or whatever you want to call the sly little slag in there with my worthless, full of shit sister?  Be done with them both and leave here. You don’t need anyone, baby.  Listen to your mother’
.