Suffer the Torment, page 28
The rain, fog, and mist, all conspired to reduce his visibility to almost zero. He bellowed Anna’s name, and only heard the shriek of wind. All he could see were fat drops of water flying past his face, to be swallowed in the darkness of the gorge. He had to climb down. Somehow, he had to keep alive the hope he could find her.
He heard Pickering get to his feet behind him. Roy groped around in his pocket for the flashlight. He found it but heard Pickering getting closer. The man was swaying, hands loose at the side as he came up him. Roy’s groping hands found a rock he could grip in his hand.
Pickering shouted and ran full pelt at him. Roy stood his ground. Pickering slipped on the wet ground, and Roy was on him in a flash, hitting him on the skull with the stone. There was a sharp crack, and Pickering went limp. Roy lifted him by the collar and smashed the stone against the skull again. He dropped the man, who collapsed face down, still. He heard a sound that was getting louder by the second, the wash of helicopter rotors in the air.
Then he saw the bird rising out of the gorge like a spaceship, the thundering rotors now making an ear-splitting sound. The pressure wash from the rotors flung him to the ground, and like that, he crawled to the ledge. He would die now, he knew that. He couldn’t live knowing Anna was down there, against the rocks. He wiped his tears, the black weight in his heart, and his numb fingers sought rocks he could swing his leg down from.
He had lost Robin, and he wouldn’t lose Anna. He would go with her, wherever she went. A beam of light pierced the murkiness, and the brightness made him hold up a hand. It was the searchlight from the bird, and a man was swivelling it around, searching.
He looked down, and his heart almost stopped. A figure lay on a flat, wide rock outcropping a few feet below the cliff edge. It was Anna. She lay very still, and her head turned to the side, not facing him. Heart in his mouth, Roy jumped.
He landed on the ledge, the rotor-wash from the bird almost pushing him over. He fell beside Anna. She had hurt her head, and there was some blood underneath her scalp. He put a finger to her nose – she was still breathing. He felt her pulse, it was fast and thready, which meant she’d lost blood, but she was still alive.
He stayed low, gripping Anna close to him, and sidled as close to the cliff as possible. The pilot manoeuvred the bird overhead, and the helper dropped a ladder. Roy saw the thing dangle in front of his face. He had little experience of mountain rescue, but he knew a belt and harness when he saw one. He tugged it off the ladder and tied it across Anna’s waist. The harness came up to her back, providing more support. Roy made sure the belt was tight across Anna’s midriff, then tugged on it to signal to the helper. He raised a hand, and the machine-operated pulley came into action, lifting a supine Anna up in the air. He couldn’t breathe as he watched Anna get closer to the helicopter.
Her hair hung down, like her legs and arms. The glare of the spotlight cut into his eyes. He watched as hands grabbed Anna and pulled her inside the helicopter. Weak with relief, he sagged against the rocks, his breath shallow and rapid. He was drained of strength. The bird lifted higher in the air. there was a thudding sound, and a figure dropped onto the ledge. It was Pickering. Blood poured down his face, and his neck was bent. His teeth bared into a ghoulish appearance. With a scream, Pickering flung himself at Roy.
He collided with Roy, getting on top. With surprising strength, he sent a flurry of punches to Roy’s face and head. Roy raised his hands to protect himself, then jerked his waist up, trying to dislodge him. A sickening blow to the face made his eyes dim. Pickering had hit him with a rock. He tried again, and Roy managed to swerve his head the last second, and the rock hit the ground with a crash. He bucked his hips again, and Pickering fell to the side. Roy rolled back, and then kicked out with his legs. He caught Pickering in the chest. The man stumbled back, and suddenly he was at the precipice. A look of panic shot across his face, then his arms circled, flailing, as he lost his fight with gravity.
“Gloria,” he screamed once. Then he was gone, nothing but rain and the lashing of empty wind where he’d been. Roy scrambled to the ledge, and saw Pickering fall, his body getting smaller and smaller, till he heard a soft thud as he met the rocks far below.
Roy didn’t have the strength to climb back up. He lay down on the flat rock, and the let the rain splatter his soaked body.
CHAPTER 70
The machine beeped softly, as the red, white, and blue squiggly lines on the monitor did their slow dance. Anna lay on the bed, a white bandage around her head, eyes closed. She had a concussion, and two stitches on her scalp. The rest of her was unharmed, thank God. Roy had a blanket around his shoulders, and he sat hunched forward on a bedside chair, watching her.
The door opened and a nurse in a blue uniform came in, Sarah behind him. The nurse took Anna’s readings from the machine, then nodded at Roy.
“All good. She should be awake soon, once the painkillers wear off.”
The nurse left, and Sarah put a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything, and he appreciated that. She looked at him and inclined her head, once. Roy felt Anna’s hand tighten around his, and he rose. Anna’s eyelids were flickering.
“Anna, I’m here darling. It’s Daddy.”
Anna’s eyes blinked open, then she narrowed them. “Daddy? Her voice was sluggish, words slurred. “Where am I?”
“In hospital. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay now.”
Anna’s chin wobbled, and anxiety over came her face as memory returned. “That man …”
“He’s gone,” Roy said. “And he’s not coming back. You’re alright.” He smoothed a hand over Anna’s hair and dried the tears in her eyes.
*****
Roy stood in front of the projector screen. Major Incident Room 1 was packed. Jack Beadle, the Chief Constable was present, along with Nugent. The screen showed Steve Pickering, in his Army uniform.
Roy read from the report he held in his hand.
“James Pickering joined the Royal Infantry 34th Regiment and was billeted at Catterick Garrison. Not far from here, as it happens. He was discharged for poor discipline, getting drunk and fighting with the other squaddies. That was five years ago. He drifted for a while, working in building sites, till he settled in Sheffield. When he joined Yorkshire Police, he kept his Army background from Human Resources.”
Roy flicked to another screen, which showed a street with a grimy row of council houses, and then zoomed into one house.
“He was born to heroin-injecting parents and taken into social care when he was six-years-old, along with his infant sister. This sister was later taken into foster care and was abused. She died, and the foster parents were jailed. Pickering stayed in social care, then with foster parents in Rotherham, till he left school. He joined an engineering college and got a couple of GNVQs. Then he pretty much drops off the radar till he joins the army.”
Nugent cleared his throat. “When did he come into contact with Burns?”
“Dr Parsons says Burns is still denying knowing him. But Burns sent the website blog posts to an email that was used by Pickering. We found it on his laptop, along with other emails to Burns, and Burgess. Pickering was also the admin of the fan website, and he ran the dark web app, ‘Reset’.”
Beadle asked, “Is it fair to say these three men were part of a larger network?”
Roy nodded. “We discovered the gang on the dark web. Many of their members are abroad, as far as Sri Lanka and Philippines. These men go there to find young boys, where the safeguarding is lax. We have the National Crime Agency now liaising with Interpol to uncover these men. Not to mention rounding up the names in Yorkshire.”
“And are we sure that Pickering was the murderer in both cases?”
“The night of Emma Purkiss’s murder, CCTV puts him crossing the road into the Burngreave Industrial Estate at midnight. The tyre tread marks found on the crime scene match with the car found in the hut in Jacob’s Ladder.” Roy stopped, the memory of that night suddenly assailing him. The room was silent, with the darkened heads of the police officers watching him.
“Pickering used the same car to abduct Annalisa Roy.”
Sarah stepped forward, sensing his discomfort. “Also, we found the murder weapon in Pickering’s flat. It was hidden under some loose floorboards. The two victims’ DNA samples were obtained from the knife.”
“Anything from the post-mortem on Pickering’s body?” Beadle asked.
Sarah answered. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Death was from obvious causes.”
“I guess that puts it to rest,” Beadle said quietly.
They filed out slowly from the incident room. Several people stopped to shake Roy’s hand and ask about Anna. Rizwan came up to him.
“Ey up, guv. Don’t do things by half, do yer?”
“Like stopping a bullet with my back? No, I don’t.”
Rizwan grinned as Oliver, Melanie and Sarah gathered around them. Rizwan said, “Does this mean you’re definitely staying on?”
Roy glanced at Sarah. Last night, he had a word with his old boss, Arla Baker, and told her he wanted to stay in Sheffield now, for good. She had agreed, and the formal transfer would take place in a few days.
“Where else can I get bacon butties this good?” Roy sighed. “Speaking of which …”
“Egg butty for me, guv,” Rizwan said, and everyone joined in the laughter. Rizwan became serious. “Sharon’s in pieces. Mostly due to the conflict she felt. She’s sad Paul’s gone, but she knew they couldn’t have a relationship with him anymore.”
“Rest in peace.” Melanie said quietly. They were silent for a while, wondering about the strange, hectic events of the last few days.
“Canteen?” Roy suggested. They walked out of the office, and down the corridor. Roy heard his phone beep. He pulled it to see a message, from a number he didn’t recognise.
I know where your brother is. Call me.
THE END
Want to read Book 3 of the Rohan Roy series?
Don’t Look Back is now available in kindle and paperback from all retailer stores worldwide. Find out what happened to Roy’s brother, and if he finally makes peace with his past.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
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Thank you very much
ML Rose.
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ML Rose, Suffer the Torment
