Suffer the Torment, page 25
Sharon didn’t live far from him; she was also a native of Nether Edge. It was too long to walk, however. He screeched to a stop in front of Sharon’s house. The lights were off, and the house was dark.
Heartbeat pulsing against his ears, Rizwan forced himself to sit still and watch the rainy street. A couple went past his car quickly, cowering under the rain. If Paul Walker was out here, he was doing the same as Rizwan, sitting and watching.
Rizwan was about to step out of his car when he saw a shadow detach itself from up ahead. It was a man, and he wore a hooded jacket. The man’s gait reminded him of Paul’s. Riz got out of the car.
Paul went to the front door of Sharon’s house and rang the bell. A light appeared in the hallway inside, and a triangle of light spilled out as the door opened a crack. The man at the door clearly knew the person inside. They had a hushed conversation, then the door opened wider, and another figure came out. It was Sharon. There was a small porch area, and she stood underneath it. The man lowered his hoodie, and his face was now visible in the faint light from inside. It was Paul.
Sharon shut the door firmly behind her and stood in the way, not letting Paul in. the street was quiet, and as their hushed conversation got louder with emotion, the words carried to Rizwan.
Paul shouted, “It’s my house, I lived here too.”
Sharon was having none of it. “You ain’t lived here for ten years, Paul. Spare Mum the hassle, alright? She doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Any of this?” Paul raged. “Nowt would’ve happened if you kept your gob shut. And that Paki detective you’re shagging? You told him about me?”
“Don’t call him that,” Sharon shouted back. “You miserable toerag. You’ve made our lives a misery. Just leave us alone.”
Sharon went to go back inside, but Paul grabbed her elbow. Riz had crept up closer now, and crouched by the front wall, so he could hear clearly. His plan was to follow Paul after this, see where he went.
Paul spoke in a lower voice, but Riz could hear. “What else you told him about me, eh? Come on, don’t lie.”
“Told him nowt,” Sharon seethed. “Now clear off my doorstep.”
Riz heard the sounds of a struggle and stood up. Sharon had gone inside and was trying to shut the door, but Paul had his foot in the door.
“Fuck off,” Sharon shouted.
“If they come after me again, I’ll know it was you,” Paul said. “You stupid bitch.”
“And what’ll you do if I have, eh?” Sharon said, still trying to close the door. “Some man you are. Come round ‘ere, threatening your own sister. Should be ashamed, you shit face.”
Paul said something in return, but Rizwan’s attention was distracted by a moving vehicle on the road, facing him. It was travelling slowly, and the headlights were switched off.
Why would a car have its lights off? And it looked like the driver was checking the house numbers, hence it was moving at a snail’s pace …
Realization and panic dawned at the same time. Adrenaline spiked in his blood. He leapt over the low brick wall, shouting at the same time.
“Get down! Get down now!” From the corner of his eyes, he saw the car shoot forward suddenly. Rizwan raced up to the front door. Paul had swung around and was staring at Riz as he rushed. The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion, but they were a blur.
Paul understood at the same time. His face contorted with fear. He dived for the hedge on the side. Riz waved his arms, racing up to the door, making himself a target so the door, and Sharon standing there, wouldn’t be hit. She opened the door a little wider, and for the fraction of a second, her scared eyes met Rizwan’s.
Then he heard the crack of a gun shot behind him, like a firecracker going off. The sound came again, and he was screaming, shouting at Sharon to shut the door. Another gun shot, louder this time, and he felt the hot sting of metal burn across his back. He screamed in agony, and his legs folded. The door was still open, but he couldn’t see Sharon anymore. He called out her name once, and watched as bullets hit the windows, smashing them. He tried to stand up, but his legs gave away. He toppled to the ground, the world turning to blackness.
CHAPTER 61
Roy knocked on the bedroom door and waited. He could see light under the doorframe, which meant Anna was still up, and reading. He heard her muffled voice and entered the room. Anna was on the bed, reading her kindle. Roy pulled up a chair from the table next to the window. Before he sat down, he checked the window was shut securely. It was an old-fashioned sash window, and he tightened the screw in the middle that connected the two panes.
“I’m not going to jump out the window, don’t worry,” Anna murmured, her nose in the Kindle. She glanced at him.
“It’s not about you,” Roy said, sitting down. They had takeaway pizza for dinner, and then watched TV. It was nice to finally spend some time with Anna. She had stories from her school, and about Helen’s new boyfriend whom she wasn’t too sure about, and her friends. It was good to see her chatty and relaxed, Roy thought. She was probably glad to have a break from home. He had offered her an open invitation to come up whenever she wanted, as long as he was here.
“What’s it about then?” Anna put the kindle down and looked at him quizzically.
Roy wrestled with the answer. In the end, he did what came naturally to him – honesty. Anna was old enough to handle the truth. But still young enough to be his little girl, and that was the hard bit.
“I don’t want you to get worried. But I got a strange thing in the mail yesterday. My brother Robin’s neck chain, the one he wore when he vanished, all those years ago.” Roy reached inside his shirt and pulled out his own chain. “I wear the same one.”
Anna stood up from the bed, curious, and peered at Roy’s chain.
“Hmm. Interesting. You always wear that, don’t you? I remember it from hols last year.”
They’d been to Spain in August last year, just him and Anna. “Yes, I do. So, not sure who left that here, or why. And you know what happened with my brother, and that I finally caught the guy who did it.”
“Uh-huh. You told me. Are you sure it’s the right person?”
“He’s got your uncle’s DNA in his house. And his own DNA matches what we found from the old crime scenes, from many years ago. DNA wasn’t used routinely then, but the police kept samples of what they found back then. Yes, it’s him alright.”
He didn’t normally talk to his daughter about work. But this was an exception, and it kind of warmed his heart to see Anna nodding seriously.
“Did he, this man you caught, tell you what he did …” her words trailed off, and they were approaching that point where Roy didn’t feel comfortable talking about it anymore. All the counselling sessions had told him the opposite. It was good to talk about this apparently. Never helped him, and he wasn’t the talkative type anyway. But it was different with Anna. She was now old enough to know, but he still felt unsure how much to share with her.
“Not yet, no,” Roy said shortly. “But he will. I’ll make him.”
Anna made a face only a teenager could make – a combination of distaste and disbelief like she’d just heard something familiar yet terrible.
“So,” Roy said slowly, “You need to be a little careful when I’m not around, that’s all I’m saying. Whoever played that prank with the chain knew what they were doing. Only a handful of people know, and I’ve eliminated all of them, I think. It doesn’t make much sense.”
He was quiet for a while. Anna said, “What if it’s him? Uncle Robin, I mean.”
Roy’s mouth fell open. A flurry of heartbeats dribbled against his ribs, then marched all the way up to his ears. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Trust his daughter to show him the way!
Anna shrugged. “This bad guy that you caught, he’s not telling you where he is, right? That might be because he doesn’t know. Maybe Uncle Robin escaped.”
Roy was gaping at Anna, speechless.
Anna raised both hands in a mock surrender gesture. “I’m just putting it out there.”
He thought about what Burns had said when he asked the question.
“Where is he buried?”
“He’s not.”
At the time, he took it to mean Burns had killed Robin and discarded his body where it wouldn’t be found. Maybe down a well or tied rocks to his feet and put him in deep water. Of course, over the years, Roy had wondered if Robin had escaped. But he’d been only six when he was taken. How could a little boy escape a monster like Burns? And there was no proof that Robin had lived any longer than the other boys.
Roy’s eyes flickered to the floor as he pondered, new spaces shifting in his mind, courtesy of Anna. It was this constant battle between hope and futility that drove him insane. And all of a sudden, he didn’t want to do it anymore. He wanted to enjoy his time with Anna.
“We shall see. Don’t worry about it now. Don’t open the door if someone rings. Call me first, okay? Even in the daytime.”
Anna frowned. “I want to go for walks. Can’t I do that?”
Roy thought about it, then shook his head. “Do you mind waiting till the day after when I have some time off?”
“Dad, you’re scaring me now.”
Roy closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe he was being paranoid. But losing Anna, like he’d lost Robin, was a nightmare that sometimes visited him. When it did, he spent sleepless, tortured nights.
“It’s going to be alright. Just a couple of days, okay?”
Anna stared at him with those dark and beautiful eyes. “Okay.”
CHAPTER 62
It was the middle of the night, and Roy stifled a yawn as he went downstairs to get a glass of water. The house was silent, and he could hear a wind whistling outside. Rain splattered against the kitchen window, and the howling of the wind grew stronger. He imagined the wind streaking down the barren rock faces, hurtling to the valley below. They were due some rain, the weather had been nice recently. He drank, then went into the hallway and checked the front door. No more envelopes, thank goodness.
He was on his way upstairs when he noticed the radio on the table. A red light on the radio was flashing which meant a message had arrived at some point in the night. He wasn’t duty Senior Investigating Officer, or SIO, so he’d left the radio here. Normally, he wouldn’t get a message if he wasn’t on duty.
Muttering under his breath, he picked up the radio and listened to the message.
All Units Alert. Police officer and IC1 male injured at 24 Sandringham Avenue, Nether Edge. Officer identified as DC Rizwan Ahmed. Repeat AUA.
Roy didn’t waste any time. He rang switchboard and asked to be put in touch with the duty uniforms team. Inspector Jonty Adams answered.
“DCI Roy.”
“Evening guv,” came the eerily cheery voice of Adam. It was almost four in the morning, and he was either strung up on caffeine, or adrenaline, or both.
“I got the AUA about Rizwan. What happened?”
“He was shot, guv,” Adams voice became sombre. “Drive-by shooting. Vehicle not identified. The IC1 male was Paul Walker. He’s dead.”
“What happened to Rizwan?” Roy’s teeth ground together, and he gripped the phone hard enough to break it.
“He’s alright. Just a flesh wound on his back. He’s at the Northern General, and last I heard, stable. My team was first on scene.”
Roy held the phone against his chest and let out the long breath he was holding. Then he spoke again.
“Who’s on scene now?”
“Still my team as we’re duty. I’m at home now though as situation is stable. The family at number 24 have been evacuated to a safe house.”
“Who lives there?”
There was silence for a few seconds. “Oh sorry, I thought you knew. It’s Sharon Gibson and her mother. Her brother was released from custody earlier today.”
Roy’s shoulders slumped. He sat down heavily on the sofa. This had to be the handiwork of the OCN. The Wrexham Hill gang. They had tracked Paul after he was released. Or maybe Paul had got in touch with them. The OCN’s had eyes and ears everywhere, including within the police force. Roy knew that very well. The fact that the drive by shooting happened outside Sharon’s house was also significant. Were the shooters trying to kill two birds with one stone?
“Jonty,” he said, getting his thoughts together. “I need a unit outside my house. I’ll file a PCN at the nick when I get in. I received threatening messages in the post. My daughter’s staying with me, and she’ll be alone. Can you organise that?”
“Of course,” Adams sounded surprised. “I heard nowt about this. Who’s threatening you like? How do they even know where you live?”
“God knows,” Roy said quietly. He rubbed his eyes. “I’ll be at the nick at first light. Please send a patrol to my place.” Roy gave Adams his address. He hung up and considered calling Sarah. It was close to half four in the morning. She’d be asleep. Roy paced the floor like a caged lion, trying to contain his fury and frustration and failing on both counts.
His mind lay with Rizwan, hopefully asleep on a hospital bed. What the hell was he doing at Sharon’s house? Luckily, Sharon wasn’t hurt. Roy had taken the address of the safe house and would visit them later today.
He did his quick home workout. Push-ups, squats, pull-ups, enough in a few minutes to make him break out into a sweat. It was his habit in the days he couldn’t run. Then he showered and got ready. He wrote a note for Anna and stuck it under her door. There was enough food in the fridge to last a week.
As he ate a bowl of porridge, he heard a car pull up outside. A quick peek through the curtains confirmed it was a squad car. A familiar figure got out from the passenger side. It was Pickering. Roy opened the door.
“Hello James.”
As usual, Pickering’s expression was a cross between stunned, and shocked. He gaped at Roy, then licked his lips.
“Too early, isn’t it?” Roy asked. “Don’t worry this shouldn’t be too taxing. Keep an eye on the front door and patrol the rear of this property. You met my daughter yesterday? She’s upstairs. Monitor her when she goes out and about. Alright?”
Pickering scratched his neck and looked at the ground, then shuffled on his feet. Roy shook his head gently.
“James?”
“Yes, yes, guv, I got that, sorry. I was just thinking, for how long—”
“Until you hear from me, or Jonty Adams. Okay?”
“On the radio?”
“What?”
“You’ll let me know on the radio?”
Roy stared at him, then shut the door, and stepped outside. “Who’s with you?”
“Sergeant Foster.”
The rain was light, and Roy stepped between the puddles as he walked to the car. He knocked on the window and Foster lowered it. She was a brunette, in her mid-thirties, and Roy had seen her around, but didn’t know her. He repeated what he’d told Pickering.
“No worries, guv, we’ll keep an eye on her. Good luck for today. DC Rizwan’s fine, by the way. Last we heard he was stable and sleeping.”
“Thank you,” Roy said, relieved that Foster was in charge. He nodded at Pickering, who was nervously watching him. Roy got into his car, and it whined twice, then died out. Muttering prayers to the automotive gods, he worked the clutch a few times, then fired the engine again. Miraculously, it came to life. He really needed to get a new car.
*****
Roy stood outside the door of the room where Rizwan lay sleeping. The blue-uniformed, buxom nurse on duty came bustling down the corridor. She looked tired but was still chirpy.
“Visiting times are from 10 a.m.”
Roy showed her his warrant card. “DCI Roy. I’m DC Ahmed’s commanding officer. I just want to see him once.”
The nurse hesitated, then looked through the blinds inside the room. She told Roy to wait and stepped inside. Then she ushered him in.
“If he’s sleeping, don’t wake him,” she whispered, and Roy nodded.
Rizwan had his eyes closed, white sheets up to his chest, both hands by his side. An IV line was stuck to the venflon on the back of his right hand. A display monitor with squiggly, red, and blue coloured lines flashed in silence. The nurse pressed on the screen and the flashing stopped.
She came back to Roy and stood next to him. “Two bullets grazed his left shoulder. He’s lucky to be alive. He had stitches in the theatre, under a general anaesthetic.”
“No head injuries? No internal bullet wounds?”
“No. Like I said, he’s lucky. Shall we go outside?”
Roy took one last look at Rizwan, silently wishing him a speedy recovery. The nurse was waiting for him in the corridor.
“The stitches are on his back and he’s heavily sedated. But he’ll be fine. The other guy was pronounced dead on arrival. He had head and chest wounds.”
“Paul Walker?”
The nurse took out a small writing pad from her breast pocket and consulted it. “Yes. He’s in the morgue now.”
CHAPTER 63
“It’s me,” Roy said, when Sarah picked up the phone. “Riz is in hospital. Gunshot wound, but he’s alright. Shot by the OCN I think, because Paul Walker is dead.”
Sarah swore under her breath. Roy heard a tap getting turned off, then a child’s voice.
“Sorry … you’re getting ready for school. I’ll see you at the nick.”
“I’ll be there for eight. Got morning school club where I can drop Matt off.” Sarah hung up, and Roy rang Oliver. He informed the DC, who was quiet for a while. Roy shook his phone, which was on loudspeaker, because his old car didn’t have Bluetooth.
“Ollie? You there?”
“Yes,” Oliver said quietly. “I was there. As in, I was there last evening, at Riz’s house. He rushed out after a phone call, which must’ve been from Sharon. Then he didn’t come back. I left then, but I should’ve gone after him. He wasn’t acting right.”
