The Reckoning (17 page)

“Was the neighbour able to give a description
of the young man?” Anderson asked. “Get us there, now!” he ordered Worth, his
hand over the mobile phone.

“Yes, sir,” the duty sergeant answered. “The
description matches that of Michael Davis.”

“SHIT!” Anderson swore as Worth hit the
switch for the flashing lights to clear the traffic ahead. “Get everyone you
can there,” he ordered, “and get the patrol cars to the surrounding streets.
Did the neighbour describe the car?”

“Yes, I’ve already forwarded the details to
the patrol cars, with the warning that the occupant is to be considered
extremely dangerous.”

*****

It didn’t take long to reach Andrew Andrews’
house, but there was already a patrol car there when Worth stopped the car in
the road outside, its light flashing. The distant sound of approaching sirens
could be heard by the two detectives.

Anderson threw open the passenger door and
climbed out, so he could hurry through the gate and up to the front door of
number twenty-seven. The door was ajar and he pushed it wide so he could enter.
The first thing he saw was a body at the far end of the passage, in the kitchen
doorway; then he saw a uniformed constable appear from a doorway a short
distance away, a doorway he presumed led to the living room.

“What’s the situation?” he asked of the
constable.

“It’s a bad one, sir,” the constable told
him, looking a little green. “Two victims, one male and one female. The male is
down there in the kitchen doorway,” he gestured down the passage, as though the
body wasn’t clearly visible, “dead; he was stabbed repeatedly from behind. The
girl is in here.” He nodded behind him. “She’s still alive, though how is
anybody’s guess, she’s been stabbed repeatedly as well.”

“Was it Michael Davis?” Anderson asked as he
stepped past the constable to enter the room so he could take a look at the
injured girl.

The constable shrugged. “The neighbour saw
someone leave the house shortly after the disturbance; the person matches the
description of Michael Davis, and apparently his clothes were blood-stained. He
drove off in a blue Honda Civic, which belongs to a Mr Andrew Andrews, we
believe that’s him in the kitchen doorway.”

Anderson turned his attention to the young
woman on the floor then, squatting over her. There wasn’t much for him to see
just then; the second constable from the patrol car was in his way, his hands
pressed to her abdomen as he tried to staunch the bleeding, or at least slow it
until the ambulance arrived and the paramedics took over.

“Jesus!” Worth exclaimed when he joined his
superior in the living room. “What a fucking mess! How many has he killed now?”

“Too many,” Anderson answered, as unhappy
with the way things were going as the sergeant. “Way too fucking many given he
was in custody this morning. This should never have happened!” He couldn’t help
reflecting on the fact that, but for a call of nature, none of the people who
had suffered at the hands of Michael Davis that day would have been hurt or
killed. “What do you think happened to the TV?” he asked, turning his attention
away from the young woman on the floor. “That didn’t happen when Davis attacked
her.”

Worth moved round the young woman so he could
approach the television and take a closer look. “No,” he agreed, “that sure as
hell didn’t happen then; it looks to me like someone kicked the TV, possibly
Davis. Why do you think he did that?”

“If I had to guess,” Anderson said, his tone
thoughtful. “I’d say something came on that made him angry; I suspect Davis was
hoping to lay low here for a while with his friend, Mr Andrews, but the news
came on, specifically the interview with Constable Harp. That revealed to Mr
Andrews what his friend had done and Davis was forced to kill him. He probably
thought she,” he waved a hand toward the young woman on the floor, “was dead.
He’d have almost certainly finished her off if he’d known she was still alive.
When he’d stabbed them both, and left them dead and dying, he took the keys to
his friend’s car and fled.”

Worth nodded. “I think you’re right; it
certainly makes sense. Where do you think he’s going to go now, though? We
haven’t found any other friends or acquaintances nearby he might go to.”

“I don’t think he’ll risk going to them if he
does know anyone else around here, not after this,” Anderson remarked. “He
wouldn’t want to take a chance on them having seen the news and selling him out
to us.” He sighed heavily. “I honestly don’t have a clue where he’s likely to
go, I’m not sure he does either. If he’s thinking the least bit logically,
though, he’s going to know he can’t keep the car he took. All we can do at the
moment is hope that he sticks with it long enough for someone to spot him, and
for us to catch him.”

“Or for him to kill again and for us to be
nearby when he does,” Worth muttered, not quite quietly enough to avoid being
heard by his superior.

“What was that?” Anderson demanded.

Worth shook his head. “Nothing, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

THIRTY-THREE

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING BITCH!” Michael
raged as he raced away from his friend’s house, pounding his fist on the
steering wheel as a punctuation to each expletive.

He was so angry that he nearly lost control
of the car. He only just missed driving into the side of a parked car. With an
effort, he got himself under control and focused. Once he did he started
thinking; his situation had become even more serious, that was clear to him.
His picture was all over the news, the local news at least, and he was sure it
wouldn’t be long before it was all over the national news as well.

It wouldn’t matter where he went then, his
face and name would be known, and he would be recognised.

It was all Donna Harp’s fault, he decided,
hers and Jason Denton’s. If she’d just left things to Underwood he’d never have
been caught. Underwood had been an idiot who was fixated on Jason Denton, which
had been fine with him. Donna had to interfere, though, and get a proper
detective involved; then, when he was about to make his escape, that bloody
Denton had to get involved and help Donna arrest him.

He slammed his hand on the steering wheel
again in frustration.

If it hadn’t been for them, them and his
nosy, interfering sisters, everything would have been okay. They needed to pay,
they all needed to pay.

REVENGE! The thought filled his mind.

He couldn’t get at Jessica, not while she was
in hospital and protected by the police, and he didn’t have a clue where Lucy
was likely to be. Donna and Denton, though; if he didn’t know exactly where
they were, he could at least find them, find them and make them pay. And make
them pay he would; what he had done to the other girls would be nothing
compared to what he would do to Donna.

By the time he was finished she would be
begging him to kill her and end it all. As for Denton, he knew his sister
thought the older man was attractive; when he was done, no-one would ever think
that again. That would be a far better punishment than killing him, Michael
thought; he would let the man live, but leave him so ugly that no woman, no
person, would ever want to look at him again.

Just thinking about what he was going to do
sent a surge of blood to his loins, and he felt himself get hard, a smile of
anticipation on his lips.

The sight of a police officer in uniform
standing outside a shop wiped the smile from his lips. They were looking for
him, not the officer he had just passed perhaps, but the police in general, and
he suspected it wouldn’t be long before they discovered he was driving Andy’s
car. He needed to get rid of it, and quick, not only that but he needed to get
another vehicle, and he needed to do so without the police knowing about it.

His mind raced as he tried to come up with a
way for him to ditch his current vehicle and get himself a new one, without the
police being aware that he had changed cars. It was a sign for a supermarket
that gave him the solution, and he immediately followed the directions on it.

It took him just five minutes to reach the
supermarket, where he drove into the large car park and found a vacant space.
Once he was parked he turned the engine off and sat there, casually observing
the comings and goings. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he
was sure he would know it when he saw it.

He had been sitting there for almost fifteen
minutes before he finally opened the door and got out. He left the keys in the
ignition and the door unlocked; if he was lucky, some kid would come along and
take it for a joyride. That would make it that much more difficult for the
police to figure out where he had been, where he was going, and what he was
intending to do.

Michael tried not to show too much interest,
or pay too much attention, as he approached the woman he had selected as his
target. He didn’t want to alert or alarm her.

The car park wasn’t at capacity, but it was
at least seventy-five percent full. Despite that, there wasn’t many people
visible, and none close enough to be a problem. If he was lucky, what he was
about to do wouldn’t be witnessed.

As he got closer to the woman he had
targeted, Michael slid the knife from the sleeve of his jumper. He held it at
his side, out of sight, until he was just a couple of paces from the woman, who
was filling the boot with her shopping.

Stopping right behind her he clamped his free
hand over her mouth so she couldn’t make a sound. Before she could react to
being grabbed he stabbed her. He held her tight, his hand muffling her scream
as he plunged the knife into back her again.

Three times in quick succession he stabbed
her.

When she went limp in his grasp he pulled the
knife from her unresisting body. He tossed it into the still open boot, out of
the way, and followed it with the body. It wasn’t easy to squeeze the body into
the boot along with the shopping, but with a bit of effort, and a large lack of
concern for the state he left the body in, he managed. Once he had the body in
the boot he slammed it closed, he then took the keys from the lock and moved
round to the driver’s door.

THIRTY-FOUR

Donna was dismayed to feel several drops of
rain fall on her as she crossed the yard of the Dean Stables to the office. She’d
been hoping that the gathering clouds weren’t a sign that rain was on its way,
though she had been sure they were, and now it had begun.

When she reached the door, which stood open,
she knocked politely to let Leonard Dean know she was there. He was on the
phone, talking rapidly to someone, but he gestured for her to enter and take a
seat; she did so without hesitation, glad to get under cover before she got
soaked.

“Sorry about that,” Leonard apologised when
he finished the call and set the phone down. “Have you come to report that
you’ve caught the person responsible for the vandalism? Claire told me she gave
you the information on the stable boy she fired.”

“I’m afraid not,” Donna told him regretfully.
“Is Mrs Dean here?”

Leonard nodded. “She’s around, I believe
she’s finishing up a lesson. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, I need to speak to both of you, if
that’s alright,” Donna said.

“Sure, are you alright to wait for Claire or
would you like me to go and get her?”

“It’s okay, Mr Dean, I can wait, it’s not
urgent, well, not super urgent,” Donna said.

*****

“Hello, Constable,” Claire Dean said the
moment she entered the office and saw Donna. “Have you got good news for us?”
she asked. “Has that hooligan admitted what he did?”

“He didn’t do it,” Donna told her. “I spoke
to Mr Proud earlier and he has an alibi that makes it impossible for him to
have been the one who vandalised your vehicles.”

“And you believe him?” Claire asked
incredulously. “He’s a liar, he lied to you, and whichever of his friends gave
you his alibi lied to you as well; they’re just protecting him. I’m sure if you
investigate more you’ll realise that he lied, and you’ll figure out how to
prove it.”

“I haven’t finished my investigation,” Donna
assured the older woman, “but it wasn’t Joe Proud; his alibi isn’t one of his
friends, it’s the mother of one of your students, a Mrs Elizabeth Gardiner.
When I questioned him, Mr Proud told me that he spent the night with Mrs
Gardiner, and she confirmed it when I spoke to her.”

“If it wasn’t Joe, who the hell was it?”
Claire demanded, clearly not happy with the news.

“Yes, who did wreck our vehicles?” Leonard
wanted to know.

“I don’t know, yet,” Donna admitted, “but I’m
going to find out. To do that, I’m going to need to speak to all of your staff,
to find out if they saw anything or anyone suspicious over the last few days,
or if they know of anyone, other than Mr Proud, who might have a grudge and
want to cause trouble for the stables. I’ll also need the two of you to think
carefully and see if you can think of anyone.”