Suffer the Torment, page 13
Jason had been through here, Roy thought. Maybe carrying his bike, and then he’d dumped it. He saw or heard the police and decided to hide.
Roy jumped off the tree trunk and moved forward. The undergrowth was thicker, and his hands were the only weapons to cut a swathe through it. It was hard moving here, and that’s why the others were ahead of him. But something told Roy to keep looking.
A flicker of movement to his right caught his eyes. A low shape, gliding between the shrubs. An animal maybe? Roy went towards it, and suddenly a man’s figure jumped up, and ran forward. It was Jason, Roy could tell from the brown jacket.
“Stop,” Roy shouted and ran after him.
CHAPTER 30
Thick barnacles of undergrowth scraped against Roy’s waist. Some branches above leaned over him, leaves brushing his face. He slapped them away, and crashed forward, thrusting through the dense foliage. His feet got stuck in something and he roared as he kicked the thorny bushes and heard something skitter away on the ground. Jason was on clearer ground, and Roy caught another flash of him as the young man jumped on a tree trunk then faded behind waist high undergrowth.
“Jason,” Roy shouted. “You won’t escape. Give yourself up now.”
He could hear twigs snapping as feet rushed behind him. He couldn’t wait for the cavalry to arrive. Despite his warning, he knew Jason could well get away. The boy had probably been here many times.
Roy used his elbows when his hands started to bleed. He grit his teeth and fought through the pain in his left shoulder. Finally, he made it to a clearing, and stumbled to the ground, to less dense vegetation. He broke into a run and leapt on the same fallen tree that Jason had been on. He couldn’t see the boy. Glancing behind, he clocked four uniform officers, and Oliver, converging upon him. He tweaked the button on his radio.
“Cut him off from the other side. Send a unit to the perimeter.”
Roy jumped off the tree and carried on. He caught movement ahead of him, a dark shape flitting between the trees. It had to be Jason. He pelted forward, galvanising his legs into motion. He saw the figure again, streaking from one trunk to the other. He seemed to be going downhill, which meant there was probably an exit there. Roy relayed this on his radio.
Jason had speeded up, and Roy had lost sight of him. He carried on, but the downward slope made it harder to chase. He lost his footing and crashed into a tree trunk, hurting his right arm. Cursing, he carried on. He heard a grunt ahead, and then saw a figure lift himself off the floor and start running. Roy renewed his efforts; aware Jason was also finding it difficult now. The youngster was quicker, but Roy knew a thing or two about chasing a suspect.
“Jason!” he roared. “We know where you’re going. You’re surrounded.”
Hopefully, that warning would make Jason try and run faster. In this forest, that would get him more tired. Roy was gaining ground. Jason was getting slower, or he would hit the trees in his way. Roy saw him again, and the young man was limping now. Roy heard another grunt as he crashed into something, then got up again and carried on. Roy was faster now but he held himself back, making sure he didn’t bump into anything as the slope got steeper. The city opened up ahead, chimney stacks emitting smoke, and the grey haze of diesel smoke from the M1. Roy had no time for the scenery. He watched his step, but moved well, making up ground.
Jason was flailing now. He hit a tree again, and went sliding, then got up and hurled himself down the slope. Roy could hear branches crashing all around him now as the others caught up with him.
Jason slipped again, and this time, Roy was close by. He hurled himself at Jason, grabbing him around the waist level in a rugby tackle. They went down in a heap. Jason kicked and snarled, punching Roy in the face. Roy had been hit by harder men, and he swatted his hands away like he was dealing with a fly. The blow stung, but he delivered a slap of his own, then turned Jason around, and dug his knee into his back.
Oliver slid to a stop next to Roy, slipping on his arse, but up swiftly. He helped Roy handcuff Jason, who was kicking and screaming.
“You got nothing on me! Let me go!!
“Nothing, eh?” Roy breathed, getting his face closer to Jason’s. “Then why did you run?”
Oliver was patting down Jason’s trouser pockets, and Roy checked the coat. He had nothing on him. Jason glared at them.
“See? I got sweet fuck all. Now let me go, you bleedin’ bizzies.”
“You’re a long way away from being let go, son.” Roy said, then grabbed Jason by the collar and pulled him to standing. Jason spat at him, but Roy managed to move out of the way. He turned Jason around and slapped him on the back, pushing him forward.
They managed the long walk back to Swale Road on the other side of the mountain bike track. Roy was exhausted. Jason was bundled into the back of a van which took off, to deposit him in custody. Roy leaned against the side of his car, and gratefully accepted the bottle of water that Rizwan was passing around. He was also grateful for the bacon butty that Sarah had fed him this morning.
“Let’s head back,” he said, wiping his lips with his sleeve. He needed to change his shirt, and like all police officers, he kept a change of clothes in the locker at the nick.
“Guv,” Rizwan said, “We haven’t got Paul Walker as yet, shall I keep a watch there, while you sort this out?” He glanced at Oliver, who nodded but then looked to Roy for approval.
Roy tapped the side of the car with a finger. Sarah and Melanie had dealt with Dean and Marla, and Dean was in the station now. Hopefully they could get more out of him. Emma’s mother, Natalie, needed questioning further, but she wasn’t a flight risk, given she had a son at home.
“Yes, do that,” he told Rizwan. “Get inside if you can and have a look around. That house is a crime scene as far as I’m concerned. So be careful. If you don’t find anything obvious, then get back to the nick quickly.”
“Aye, guv, no worries.”
Roy didn’t miss the long look Oliver gave Rizwan, which the latter ignored. Rizwan got into his car and drove off.
“Everything alright between you two?” Roy asked as he strapped himself into the passenger seat.
“Aye. He’s been a little off since this morning. Not sure why. Wasn’t happy about my joke about the bacon.”
Oliver grinned as he drove down the narrow, deserted road.
Roy said, “Well, he’s sensitive about that, it’s obvious. I know you’re good mates, but he probably told you in confidence.”
“Yes, he did, and I meant nothing by it.” He glanced sideways at Roy. “I mean, I thought it was harmless. Perhaps I was wrong. I did tell him I was sorry.”
“Alright then,” Roy said.
“Can I ask you something guv? If you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, because I’m knackered.” He glanced at Oliver who looked at him uncertainly, then caught him smiling. Oliver grinned, then seemed to make his mind up about something.
“It’s just that, well, I know where you’re from, that’s London, but I just, you know, like—"
Roy put him out of his misery. “I’m British, born and bred. I’m a Hindu by religion, but I’m not very religious. Eat and drink everything, as you’ve seen.”
“Ah, yes, I see, okay. Cool.” Oliver nodded as if he was digesting important information.
“And you, Ollie? Yorkshire lad, right?”
“Yes, guv. Born and bred here. Always been my home, like.”
“Not a bad place to call home,” Roy reflected looking out the window. Parkwood Springs was a green swathe on his left, rising into the dome shaped hill they’d just climbed. “I’d forgotten how green Sheffield was.”
“Aye, that it is. And we got the Peak District close by.”
“I’m living in Hathersage right now. Nice out there.”
Oliver was silent for a while. Then he cleared his throat. “So, you’re staying, like? Just for this case or for longer?”
Roy shrugged. “I’ll have to see how it goes. For now, I’m here.”
Oliver nodded and offered no further comment.
*****
Melanie and Sarah weren’t in the office, which meant they were speaking to Dean or someone else. Roy and Oliver hit the locker room, had a shower and got changed. Roy was glad for the change of clothes – he’d been on two chases this morning already, more than he bargained for.
“Scene of crime report should be back by now,” he said, when they got to their desks. “See if you can get something from Dobson, and I want the call list from Emma’s phone number.”
Oliver got busy, and Roy crossed the office floor to where the uniformed teams had their zone. He spotted the lanky Pickering, his thin, reedy body visible at the far end, by a fax machine. Pickering had his back to Roy, and jumped up, startled, when he sensed Roy. He stared at Roy like he had two heads, his mouth open.
“Hello James,” Roy said, wondering who let him into the police force.
“Hello guv. What’s happened?” Pickering’s eyes darted sideways.
“Nothing. Did you find out anything more about the car at the crime scene?”
“Which … Ooh, that one. Yes, right. Not really, no. The marks weren’t very prominent so … and there was nothing else to see, all the way down the dirt track, till it reached the road.”
Roy thought for a while. “Do you know if scene of crime took photos?”
“Sorry, guv, no, I don’t.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll ask them.”
Pickering’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. “Did I something wrong, guv?”
“No,” Roy made his voice gentle. “I wanted to know if you’d seen anything on the track, but if you didn’t, that’s fine.”
Pickering almost bowed, then picked up something from the fax machine, and tip toed past Roy. Back at his desk, Roy saw Sarah had arrived.
“Heard about Rizwan going to check up on Paul Walker. Hope he’s alright.”
“He’ll be fine,” Roy said. “Told him not to do anything stupid. Should be back soon.”
CHAPTER 31
Rizwan had parked closer to the house this time. He was opposite, behind two cars. The house looked the same as before. Curtains pulled apart, no lights on. It was getting close to 5 p.m. now, and if anyone lived there, there should be some sign of life. Rizwan fidgeted, trying to make sense of who he’d seen coming out of that house.
Ollie said he looked like he’d seen a ghost, and in some ways, he had. Only, she wasn’t a ghost, or a figment of his imagination. She was very much real. His mind ran loops again, trying to figure out the why, where and heretofores. It was no use; all he was getting was a headache.
He watched for a while longer, then got out of the car. The house was silent and seemingly empty, but the neighbours on either side were busy. A man came out of the front door and leaned back as if to hear something. Then he shut the door and walked out. Rizwan crossed the road quickly and accosted the man. He was taller than Rizwan, who was medium height.
“Ey up. Can I have a word like?”
The man stopped and frowned. “Who’re you?” He had a bald head that glistened in the fading light.
Rizwan showed his warrant card, and the man squinted at it, then his attitude changed. His jaws relaxed, but a wary look remained in his eyes.
“What’s your name?” Rizwan asked.
“Charlie Coombes.”
“Alright Mr Coombes. You know the bloke who lives at number twenty-three? Goes by the name of Paul Walker.”
The man turned to have a look. He shrugged. “Seen him around, yeah. What about him?”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Mr Coombes thought for a while. Rizwan noticed the tattoos on his neck and arms, the gold rings on his fingers, and the thick chain on his neck.
“A couple of days ago, I think. Saw him in the garden. Said ‘hello’. That was about it.”
“What was he doing in the garden?”
Mr Coombes shrugged. “I don’t know, do I? Heard him there, said ‘ey up’ and that was all.”
“Have you heard anyone in the house in the last couple of days? Any noises?”
Mr Coombes frowned, then shook his head. “Nothing that sticks out. Why you asking? Is he in trouble?”
“We need to speak to him regarding an ongoing investigation.”
“That means owt to me, but I guess he’s done something you want him for. Correct?”
“I can’t comment on an ongoing case, I’m sure you understand. If you see him, can you please give us a call?” Rizwan handed him a card.
“Must be serious if you want him this bad.” Mr Coombes took the card.
Rizwan shifted to one side, so he could see the rest of the street. He was facing the main Burngreave Road, traffic flowing on it. He saw a woman turn the corner and stop suddenly. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, enough for recognition. It was the same woman from this morning, who came out of Walker’s house. The woman froze, then turned around and vanished from view, going back the way she came.
“Thanks,” Rizwan said to Mr Coombes, then ran down the road. There was a knot of pedestrians in front of a corner shop, and he had to swerve around them. He couldn’t see the woman immediately in the throng, but he knew her shape and size by heart. He moved ahead, scanning every face, brushing past people. Then he saw her on the other side of the road, at a packed bus station. She tried to duck behind a group of people, but he’d spotted her. A bus was drawing up to the stop, and people were getting ready to board. Whatever happened, Rizwan couldn’t let her get on the bus.
Traffic was heavy, but it was moving. Rizwan ran out on the road, holding his hands up for the cars to stop. Loud beeping filled the air as the drivers complained. But then he was across, and diving into the crowd getting on the bus. He stood at the bus doors, stopping people from getting on. Rizwan wasn’t the tallest man, and he had to shout and gesticulate as people tried to push him away. He took his warrant card out and thrust it in the face of an angry man.
“Police, Stop! I’m looking for someone.”
His words didn’t have the desired effect. People had waited for this bus for a while, and they weren’t about to listen to a solitary man. Rizwan was buffeted by the crowd, shoved, and pushed around, he tried to hold his ground, but when a rather large woman pressed her bosom against him, pinning him to the side of the bus, he wondered if he should get out of her. He craned his neck, and finally caught sight of his mark.
She was wriggling out from behind another crowd who were waiting for a different bus. He called her name, but it was lost in the general commotion. Rizwan fought his way out of the melee and breathed in relief when he stumbled out from the bus stop. He could see the woman now, running away.
“Sharon!” he screamed. “Stop!”
Several heads turned to look in Rizwan’s direction. He ran past them, gaining on Sharon, who ignored his calls. As they came up to the next block and another road, she almost collided with a car. Stopping at the last second, she ran down the side road. Rizwan turned left and followed.
This road was less crowded. Sharon picked up speed, so did Rizwan. She almost barged into a woman with a pram coming out of a house, and swerving to avoid her, crashed into a stationary car. Rizwan pounced upon her and pulled her into doorway of a shop. Sharon struggled, but Rizwan held her tight.
“Stop, just stop!” he shouted, his face inches from hers. She looked at him then, her grey blue pupils dilating, and she went still. She gasped, her breath mingling with his. He relaxed his hold on her, but still kept his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t move away.
“What the hell were you doing in that house?” Rizwan asked. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to one side.
“What right have you got to ask me?” Sharon shot back, lifting her chin. “Eh?”
“Just tell me, alright? How do you know Paul Walker?” He frowned, anger and sudden jealousy spiking in his blood. He grit his teeth. Now wasn’t the time, but he couldn’t help how he felt.
“Tell me,” He repeated.
“Why? What do you care?”
“What do I …” Words failed him as his mouth dropped open, and Sharon lowered her eyes. She pushed against his chest, and he let her go. She stood there, fuming, not looking at him.
“Shaz, I …” Rizwan’s voice shook with emotion, and he struggled to compose himself. “I wanted to see you. To talk things through.”
“Talk about what? You told me last time.”
“No, I didn’t. Not all of it. None of it, in fact. Anyway…” Rizwan breathed, holding his hands up, then rubbing his forehead. He needed some mental space to think this through and all he felt was a fog of confusion. Right, he told himself. First things first.
“Why were you there, in that house?”
Sharon frowned. “What’s goin’ on like? What’s the big deal?”
Rizwan sighed.
“Paul Walker is wanted in relation to a murder investigation. He’s also a drug dealer, supplying school kids for heaven’s sake. Why the hell are you mixed-up with him for?”
He dreaded the answer. He was so worried his spine shook, and he steadied himself. He didn’t want to think he’d lost Sharon, but now he had proof. The worst proof imaginable. She was with another man. He couldn’t believe it.
When he looked at her, her attractive face was blanched white, eyes bulging with panic.
“He’s my brother.”
CHAPTER 32
Rizwan gaped at her, not sure if he was relieved or shocked. Relieved she wasn’t with another man. Shocked that a known drug dealer and criminal was her brother. But the congealed confusion wasn’t exactly getting any clearer.
“Your brother?” He frowned. “Chuffin’ ‘eck. Why don’t you have the same last name then?”
