False Witness (John Steel series Book 3) (29 page)

After a deeper search in the file she found the witness, and a web search revealed to her surprise the journalist’s name.

“Steel, you always were a clever bastard,” she muttered to herself as she read some of the clippings from the articles.

Cassandra Lloyd stood up and rushed over to the captain’s office, and she knocked and entered. As usual, Brant was on the phone with the Chief, and the conversation didn’t seem as pleasant as before.

“Yes, Chief,” Brant protested into the phone, “we are doing the best we can... Well if you can find someone else to make this run quicker, be my guest...”

He looked over towards Agent Cassandra Lloyd, who had a smile on her face, and her firm grip on the file she was holding suggested she had some news.

“Look, Chief, Agent Lloyd may have something,” he went on. “I am putting you on speaker.” Brant pressed a button and placed the receiver down on the desk.

“Under the request of a certain Detective Steel we got all of the case records of the judge’s legal career for the years zero to three, through to zero to five,” she began. “What we found was a case that made her career and put her in the running for being appointed as a judge. A top judge who was going places was apparently knifed to death in an alley by her own husband. Witnesses at the restaurant saw them arguing and a fight broke out. She left and he followed soon after.”

After her statement, Brant thought for a moment. “Yeah, I remember that case. Was there anything to tie that to the escapees?”

Lloyd nodded slowly, as if what she had was the case cracker. “The husband was none other than Brian Armstrong, one of our escapees. Not only that, but the prosecution lawyer was Mathews, before she was made judge.”

Brant could feel the excitement of his chief on the end of the phone, imagining the reflected glory he’d be getting as a result of Cassandra’s discovery, and he was loving it.

“Great job, Agent Lloyd!” he said delightedly.

But Cassandra waved a finger. “There’s more. Steel asked me to check on witnesses and press articles. At first I didn’t know why, but soon it made sense. The main witness was a gym teacher who saw Armstrong enter the alley then come back out later, looking anxious. He got into a taxi and drove off. What’s more, during the trial one newspaper covered the story in depth. In fact some say that their articles may have swayed the jury. It looks like McCall was right: one of them had broken out, seeking revenge on someone for destroying his life.”

There was a silent moment before the Captain and Cassandra heard the Chief quietly clear his throat. “Well done on some fine detective work, Captain,” he congratulated them. “Brant? You find Armstrong and do what you have to, to bring him in.”

The phone went dead and Brant looked up at Lloyd with a satisfied smile. “Well, I guess he won’t be phoning again soon. He’ll probably be working on his press conference speech.”

Lloyd laughed at the thought of the man rehearsing in front of a bathroom mirror. “Do you think that Armstrong is done?” she asked, concerned at the already high body count. Brant shrugged.

He hoped so.

Darius sat watching television
in one of the back rooms. He was waiting for his favourite show to come on after the current boring cooking programme. He sat casually with his back half on the rear of the armchair and his front on the arm, while his right leg hung over the other arm. Besides him was a large bowl full of potato chips and he had a glass of beer in his hand. He was comfortable and ready for a lazy evening.

Darius grabbed a handful of chips and was about to shove them into his mouth when a newsflash stopped him midway, as he watched a large picture of Brian Armstrong come onto the screen. The chips fell back into the bowl and he sat up to pay attention to the broadcast.

“Yo, fellas, get your asses in here!” His yelling soon brought the others rushing in, just in time to see the report:

The police are looking for this man in connection with three murders. He is considered to be highly dangerous so do not approach...
”

Tyrell turned quickly to find Armstrong standing behind them, his face emotionless. Tyrell grabbed him and pinned him against the wall, but Brian did not resist.

“What you done, man?” Tyrell demanded. “You brought this on all of us, you know that?”

Brian looked up at Tyrell, directly into his eyes. “You know I didn’t do this. Whoever set me up back then is doing this now.”

Tyrell let him go and stepped back. “Yeah, but the thing is, Teacher, where have you been goin’ nights? We seen you sneakin’ out. At first I thought what the hell, man’s in the free world and probably got an itch. But now? Tell us, where you been goin’, Teacher?”

Brian thought for a moment then shook his head. It was his personal business.

“You killed a friggin’ judge man! A friggin judge!” yelled Darius as he paced up and down.

“Everyone just stop and shut up,” Brian said, trying to make them see reason. “Look. The police are grasping at straws and my name fits, I don’t know why. It’ll be okay if we all stick together.”

Tyrell shook his head, and there was a disappointed look on his face: he was torn. He thought he knew this man, but what if he had done this crime? If so, then they would all go down for it.

“No, man,” Tyrell told him. “You ain’t bringin’ us or my brother into this shit, you’re on your own, man. I would rather go down as an escapee than a judge killer.”

Armstrong saw the look on their faces, and none of them could meet his gaze. Brian nodded. He understood that Tyrell was just looking after his brother and the rest of them. Hell, he probably would have done the same thing himself.

“I wish you all well, guys,” Armstrong said, “but just remember I didn’t do this killing. If they are willing to pin this on me they will be after you as well. Leave the country, guys—get the hell out.”

DC opened the door and they watched Brian disappear into the darkened hallway. DC quickly shut the door and bolted it before he tried to get back in.

“What if he was right, man?” DC asked, scared and confused. “What have we just done?”

*

Armstrong stepped out into the dusk air, noticing that the sky was full of purples and oranges as the sun began to fade into the horizon. He pulled up the hood of his top over his head, looked around to make sure he wasn’t being followed, then, sticking to the shadows, disappeared down the street.

“Yeah,” the detective in the unmarked car said into his radio. “Armstrong has just left the building. What do you want us to do? The others are still in there.”

“Stay on him,” he was told. “The others will follow later. Wait until they are somewhere public then we will move in.” The voice of Bennett blared from the cell phone’s loudspeaker.

The cop on observation detail ended the call and started his engine. Moving the car at a snail’s pace, he set off after Armstrong.

Tony returned to the
precinct while Joshua Tooms attempted to locate the picture. Tooms had gone to the judge’s chambers first, since that was the closest and for all purposes the more secure location. If you’re going to hide something important you want it to be safe.

He stepped out of the elevator to find the room alive with activity. Something was wrong. He looked around and finally spotted Lloyd, who was at his desk using the phone. Tony waded through the crowds of uniforms and detectives and he made for her.

The detective drew in close to speak over the noise but was stopped by Lloyd, who placed a finger onto his lips to silence him.

“Yes, it’s important,” she snapped into the phone. “Look, I am an agent from the FBI. What do you mean you don’t care, he’s too busy to talk to me...Hello? Hello?”

Lloyd looked at the receiver with a shocked look on her face. “Bastard hung up on me, what an asshole,” she barked, taking her finger away from the confused detective’s lips.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony asked her.

She opened up the file and pointed to the arrest report pertaining to Brian Armstrong. “The arresting officers of Brian Armstrong were detectives Alan Carter and Jack Doyle.”

Tony shrugged, not getting the point. “Yeah? So we find them and warn them.”

Agent Lloyd shook her head but began to smile. “Easier said than done. One of them retired and lives God knows where and the other...” She pointed to a footnote signature from the new Chief of Detectives.

“You got to be kidding me!” Tony’s mouth fell open.

Lloyd filled Tony in on what she had found, via Steel’s instructions. She repeated what she had briefed the captain and the chief on, bringing Tony up to speed.

He had to agree it made sense. But who did Brian Armstrong know who had that much influence? That answer Lloyd found in a different background check. She had discovered that Brian Armstrong was once known as Michael Adams, a ‘company’ man until something made him get out. However, he still had friends in dangerous places.

Looking at the facts, Tony could see how the pieces now fitted together. He had to agree that the Chief could most certainly be the next target, but getting to him would be almost impossible, unless of course you happened to have been trained into becoming a ghost.

The smile faded from Lloyd’s face the more she thought of it, and Tony noticed his change of mood.

“What’s wrong, what did we miss?” Lloyd said in anguish. She went over the notes again and threw down the file on Tyrell Williams. “Damn it!” she screamed and rubbed her forehead.

Tony picked up the file, read through it, and then looked over at Lloyd.

“Tyrell Williams,” she said. “His brother has enough pull to get this done. Armstrong probably just used the escape to settle old debts. We need to find Tyrell’s brother Jacob.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “True. But nobody has seen the guy since the breakout. Hell, he hasn’t even been to his club lately.”

Agent Lloyd stood up and put her jacket on. “Someone knows where he is.”

*

A strange waist-high mist hung over the cemetery and the full moon gave everything an eerie glow. It was the sort of scene you would expect from a horror film, just before the undead hands started breaking through the surface of the earth. A lone figure made its way through the maze of headstones, moving slowly and carefully.

Brian Armstrong stopped and looked up at the clear sky. The blanket of a billion stars created such a beautiful scene. He took a deep breath and continued further in: he knew just where he was going. He had his goodbyes to say, and something in his soul told him that he may not get chance to say them ever again.

Armstrong walked up to a lonely marble gravestone, the clear lettering picked out in black. He knew the words off by heart:

In memory of Julie Armstrong, loving mother and daughter. Taken from us too early.

Brian shed a tear, hurt that the words ‘loving wife’ had been omitted, as if they were trying to extinguish any traces of his association with the dead woman. However, he knew the truth, and one day he hoped everyone else would, including his daughter. He bent down at the foot of the headstone and placed a rose there, one that he had taken from the bushes near the entrance.

“So this is where you been coming?”

Armstrong did not turn around when he heard the voice behind him.

“Why didn’t you say, man?”

Somehow, Brian had known that he had been followed. He just hoped it was either Tyrell or Darius.

“I never got to say goodbye that night,” Brain told him. “Our last words were, well, not friendly, shall we say.”

Tyrell nodded as though he understood Brian’s pain and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If you were right about what you said back there, we need to go. Your face is all over the place, man.”

Brian stood up and kissed his own fingers and placed them onto the stone, as if transferring the goodbye kiss to her. Tyrell put an arm round Brian’s shoulders like a brother and led him gently back to the parking lot at the front of the church, where a blacked out G wagon was waiting for them.

As the car sped off, a shocked Sam McCall sat open-mouthed in the parking lot.

“You have got to be kidding me!” she mumbled to herself. “That was Armstrong and the others.” She was disappointed to have missed them. She had seen the G wagon pull up but had waited in the shadows with the others in her car, just in case they were noticed.

“What? Who are you talking about?” Megan asked, looking confused at what McCall had just said.

“Never mind,” Sam told her. “We have to get after them.” She knew she couldn’t risk losing them, on the other hand she daren’t allow their tail to be seen.

“What about Steel?” Gabriel asked, from the back seat. “If we leave, he won’t know where to find us.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Gabriel, he always has a knack of turning up when he is needed.”

The two women looked at each other and nodded, with knowing smiles.

“Oh yeah, he sure does that,” McCall repeated, then she put the car into drive and sped off into the night.

*

Steel walked out into the parking lot and pulled his leather gloves on, his breath turning to mist as it came into contact with the cold of the night. The dirty cop had given him some information but it was very little, so Steel figured that’s how they played it: you were only told what you needed to know. But he came away with a name, one that didn’t really surprise him: Detective Bennett.

He looked around and smiled. McCall’s car had gone so that was something, for he wasn’t about to stop and answer questions, especially the reason why he had shot a fellow detective. Those answers could wait.

No, for now he had to find McCall and the girl, Megan, after which they had to locate and neutralise a killer. His long coat carried the wind like some demonic beast, with its military-style wool and leather arms, collar and shoulders. He pulled it closed and buttoned the crossover closing all the way up.