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Authors: Murray McDonald

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BOOK: Scion
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“I’ll go to the hospital on my way home
,” said the Chief. “What about the perps, how are they?”

“Two dead, one critical, another two hospitalised and one down in the cells refusing to talk.”

None of them could hide their shock at the devastation caused. Bryant smiled, triumphant in his vindication.

The Chief recognised an even greater disaster than
the earlier one. Two, possibly three men were killed by a serial rapist in his custody. The fact that the men had crippled and attempted to kill one of his officers would be lost in the mire as the media focussed on the brutal deaths of the men at his prisoner’s hands. He could see the same thought was hitting Kelly. He didn’t even bother to look at Harris. That day was proof that the detective’s retirement the following year was well overdue.

“Sir, following the events described by
Constable Bryant, I have to seriously question whether we have the right man for the rapes,” suggested Kelly.

“My thoughts exactly,” replied the Chief, thankful that
Kelly had made the comment first.

Harris shook his head in disbelief
. He was certain the Chief had a hard-on for the ice queen and was now more convinced than ever. He would have to let the Chief know everyone was convinced she was a lesbian. In over two years not one cop had managed to crack her.

“Hello
-o? He just killed two guys with his bare hands.”

“Exactly
,” replied Kelly. She couldn’t be bothered to explain the psychological profile of rapists and how the events in the cells matched no serial rapist in the history of policing. Before anyone else could explain, a knock on the door interrupted them.

“Come in
!” shouted the Chief.

The door opened,
a constable entered and walked toward the sergeant.

“Sir, a brief
’s just arrived to speak to his clients, the rugby guys.”

“How the hell?” the sergeant looked around
. No statement had been made, no names released nor had they allowed the prisoners access to a phone.

“What does he know?” asked
Kelly calmly.

“He wants to speak to his six clients, immediately.”

“Basically nothing, it must have been arranged either before or from outside,” mused Kelly.

“But what will I tell him
? He’s very pushy. He’s already taken a note of my number,” asked the constable.

“Don’t worry
, son. Sergeant?” said the Chief, instructing the sergeant to take the constable’s place.

“I should go to
o,” suggested Kelly.

After a moment
’s hesitation, the Chief agreed.

“OK but Harris
, you come with me. We’ll see if we can get something from his client while you stall him up here.”

It took the Chief and Harris less than two minutes to realise they were wasting the
ir time. The prisoner was never going to talk, certainly not to them.

Kelly
faired little better with the lawyer who had arrived to speak to his clients. On being informed that he only had four clients left and potentially only three, he wasn’t fazed. His only concern was to see that his imprisoned client was OK. Those in the hospital could wait and those who had died were beyond help. When he retrieved his mobile from his pocket and threatened to phone his friend, the Lord Chancellor and then The Sun, Kelly relented and led him down to an interview room.

Five minutes later
, the prisoner was led into the room to meet his lawyer. As the door closed, the Colonel, who had posed as the lawyer, smiled at his man.

“Jesus
Colonel!” exclaimed the mercenary. “That guy kicked the shit out of us!”

The
Colonel quizzed him for ten minutes, extracting every detail. Content he had the full story, he sat back and relaxed.

“But you don’t know which was
the guy we wanted?” he checked again.

“Well no, both were about the same age with dark hair.”

The Colonel thought back at the video he had watched repeatedly of the man’s head crashing to the ground.

“Was one better looking than the other
?” he asked.

“Neither were my type, if you know what I mean,
Sir,” answered the man cautiously.

“I’m not checking
if you’re a fag you fucking idiot, was one better looking?”

“Well now that you mention it
, the fighter was a bit of a pretty boy.”

The
Colonel now knew exactly which was which. He extracted a hip flask and took a swig of whisky after which he nonchalantly offered some to his man who initially refused but the Colonel insisted. The mercenary took a long swig and wiping his lips handed the flask back to the Colonel.

“Well, I’d best be off and check on the men in hospital and don’t worry
, we’ll have you out of here by tomorrow at the latest, OK?”

“Sir, yes
Sir,” replied the mercenary.

As the
Colonel left, he shook his man’s hand for the last time. He hadn’t lied about getting him out the next day. He would get out but it would be in a body bag. The hipflask was laced with poison and the mercenary would be dead by morning as would the three men still alive in hospital. Karl the German was already dealing with them. He had lost six men and all because somebody hadn’t told him the truth about the target. He was obviously highly trained and someone was going to pay. First things first though, he needed more men. He made a call.

 

Chapter 11

 

 

 

Kelly caught her breath as she walked into the interview room. She remembered the suspect, despite his puking, being attractive but this guy was stunning. The pale white skin, had returned to its perfectly tanned lustre. His puke-filled hair was now dark and neat and his washed out face, dark and chiselled to perfection. The only downside she thought was his clothing but even then the white t-shirt he wore struggled to hide the perfect pecs and washboard stomach. The only thing standing between him and perfection was a small cluster of moles on his left temple forming what looked like a star. Even then, she thought, that’s cute.

Pulling herself from her adolescent thoughts
, Kelly took the seat next to Harris but couldn’t help giving the suspect a very girly smile. The suspect smiled warmly in return and in that moment Kelly knew for definite they had the wrong man. It wasn’t just that the smile could get any woman into bed. Rapists don’t do it just for the sex, it’s all about power and having to prove they have it. The smile reverberated through his eyes, captivating her. The deep dark brown eyes somehow telling her she was safe with him, no harm would come while he was watching over her. His eyes broke the momentary gaze and continued their surveillance, checking everything was OK. This man didn’t need to prove anything to anybody and was most definitely not a rapist. Kelly was convinced.

Harris watched in amazement as
Kelly smiled at the suspect. In the two years he had worked with her, he had never seen her smile like that. If only she wasn’t a lesbian he thought, what a waste.

“DCI Harris and DS
Kelly interviewing the suspect known as Scott at 11.25 p.m. on Sunday 5th October 2008. For the record, the suspect has refused legal representation. Can you please confirm this for the tape.”

“Yes,” replied
Scott.

Harris
took over,

“Can you please confirm your name
in full for the record please,”


Scott,” replied Scott.

“Your full name please?” he
repeated irritably. It had been a very long day and all thanks to the scumbag in front of him.

“My full name is
Scott.”

“What’s your surname?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, stop messing us about
. Everybody’s got a surname,” shouted Harris. Kelly placed a hand on his arm to calm him down but he pushed it away.

“I must be unique then,” smiled
Scott.

Harris leaned menacingly across the small table
.

“Do you know why you’re here
? For raping five women and now murdering two men!”

“Ridiculous
,’ said Scott calmly. ‘I only arrived in the UK last night and those men were obviously trying to kill us or me in particular. So I think there’s more to it, don’t you? Should I contact a lawyer or are we going to do this civilly?” threatened Scott.

“Wh
y do you need a lawyer to protect you if you’re innocent?”

“Assholes,” smiled
Scott, “I need a lawyer to protect me from assholes!”

Harris
lost his temper and threw a punch at Scott. Scott had anticipated it and casually moved his head to the side and watched as the punch sailed harmlessly past, infuriating Harris further. Kelly pressed the panic button and two policemen rushed into the room and headed towards Scott.

“Not him
,” she shouted. “Him!” pointing to Harris. “Get him out of here, right now and call the Chief down here immediately!”

Five minutes later and with calm restored
, Scott sat facing Kelly and rather bizarrely the Chief Constable of the Cambridgeshire Constabulary.

“I’m sorry about my colleague, it’s been a long day
,” said Kelly.

“That’s OK,”
replied Scott.

“Now you mentioned you only arrived in the UK last night.”

“Yes and it’s been three years since I was here before that,” explained Scott.

“OK, if that is the case it will certainly rule you out of
four of the rapes. Can you just confirm where you were in the last ten months.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t tell you
.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell us?”

“Exactly that. I can’t tell you.”

The Chief stepped in.

“Look son, we’ve past the time for games. Tell us where you’ve been in the last ten months, we’ll check it out and if everything’s OK, you’ll be in a much better position.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not being difficult and I’m not playing games
. I genuinely can’t tell you.”

“Have you forgotten where you’ve been?”

“No.”

“Can someone else tell us where you’ve been?”

“No.”

Kelly
thought of a way to get the information.

“What about your passport, we can track where it’s been
.”

“Don’t have one
.”

“But you said you entered the UK last night
so you must have one?”

“I did
and I don’t.”

The Chief sat back in frustration
with the realistic possibility that Scott was an illegal immigrant claiming not to know where he was from and who by default would gain access to the UK. You can’t deport someone unless you have somewhere to deport them to.

Kelly
had the same thought but the accent was too good, definitely English. In fact almost perfect but for a slight twang of something she couldn’t quite place.

“You’re not going to get citizenship out of this
, you know. We’ll just lock you up and throw away the key until you tell us where you’re from.”

Scott
placed his hands in the air next to his head, in a mock surrender.


Look guys, I’m not an illegal immigrant. I’m not looking for citizenship. I’m not a rapist. It was kill or be killed and I wish I could but I can’t tell you where I’ve been. I honestly am not trying to be difficult.”

Kelly
and the Chief looked at each another and both could see that they rather bizarrely believed him. However with no concrete proof, he was their only suspect.

Kelly
moved her hand towards the tape recorder.

“Interview terminated 11.51 p.m. Sunday
5th October 2008.” She pressed the Stop button.

 

Chapter 12

 

 

“I’ll just give you
a reference number. Have you got a pen?”

“Just a sec.
,” Ashley quickly searched through the mess on the floor and found the pen and pad that once sat next to the phone.

“The reference is Yankee, Bravo, 9, 3
, Tango, X-ray. Do you want to read that back to me?”

“YB93TX
,” repeated Ashley.


Correct. Now if you give that reference number to the ticket desk with your passport, they’ll issue your tickets and boarding pass. Is there anything else I can help you with Miss Diaz, sorry Rosie?” The BA sales associate corrected herself. The customer had insisted she call her by her first name. She reprimanded herself. She hadn’t made it to first class bookings by ignoring customer wishes.

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