Stark Contrasts (An Adam Stark novel Book 1) (13 page)

“Dwayne, there are at least thirty witnesses who can vouch for him. His wife told us his brother and another friend needed to carry him up to his bed he was so drunk. He didn't attack you Dwayne, so tell me why you really killed him.”

Dwayne trembled, fidgeted and muttered under his breath, building up a head of frustrated steam. Stark could practically hear the cogs turning in the boy's mind as he desperately tried to come up with a new story.

“I...” as nothing came to him, the frustration fizzled out. “I...”

Katz abruptly interjected.

“Dwayne, can you just explain something to me? You told the doctors that you never saw your attacker. You were drugged and unconscious. How could you possibly know that Tony Stout was the man that attacked you?”

Dwayne squirmed in his seat and Eleanor Gamble looked at him in sudden realisation that she'd failed to notice this flaw in his story.

“Well? How?” Katz insisted.

“He was in the toilet at the shopping centre the first time, ok! He made me eat piss-covered gum, man! I mean, it was fucking disgusting, man!”

The detectives exchanged glances and Stark rejoined the interrogation.

“The first time, Dwayne? What do you mean? You never mentioned that you'd been attacked twice. When did this happen?”

“It was a couple of days before the teeth thing. Big white dude, pulled a gun on me, then forced me to eat a bit of gum I spat in the bowl when I was taking a piss. Kept going on about manners and how it wasn't the attendant's job to clean up after me. He was one sick motherfucker but I showed him! I got me my own gun. I knew he'd come back there eventually and when he did, I capped his white ass good and proper, man!”

Stark took a moment to process this. It was important to nail down exactly what was going on.

“Sorry, let me get this right, Dwayne. You're telling me that Tony Stout pulled a gun on you in broad daylight, in a public toilet? Then, he made you swallow some gum you'd spat out into the toilet bowl?”

“Yeah, man, that's what I'm telling you. That's what happened, man.”

Katz was also processing fast.

“Still makes no sense, Dwayne. We just told you Tony Stout has witnesses, and probably photos if we asked for them, proving he was somewhere else when you were attacked the second time. Was he alone? Did he have an accomplice?”

Dwayne began dredging his memory. The drugs Citizen V administered played havoc with his recollection of the attacks. He was sure Tony Stout was in the toilet. He was
definitely
the guy who put the gun to his head...wasn't he? With each beat of his heart, Dwayne's blood seemed to carry another batch of doubt to his brain. Confusion clouded his mind. A sudden flashback. Two men.

“There were two of them, yeah. That's right. He was the one with the gun though, the other dude just came in when he...”

Stark looked at Katz and they both looked at Eleanor Gamble.

“I think we should stop there, DI Stark. I urgently need to talk to my client.”

Stark suspended the interview. It was now clear that, although Tony Stout was very much dead, Citizen V was still very much alive.

23. Suspicious Minds

Abby Hester looked in the mirror and dabbed the last of her foundation on. Though she said so herself, she was a good looking woman. A good looking woman with a life going very well at the moment.

The private medical practice in Harley Street she joined a year ago was booming. It amazed her how many rich folks were feeling insecure about their looks. Still, she couldn't complain; every imperceptibly crooked nose straightened, and every perfectly normal chest expanded, in turn expanded her bank account. The young Abby, full of principles, working to make the world a better place, used to be very snooty about this sort of thing. But, years of having her emotions and sympathy chipped away, in order to survive the horrors of what life threw at her patients, took their toll. She no longer worried about such lofty ideals.

She moved into the flat a couple of weeks ago and it was impossibly lovely. Two large bedrooms, a beautiful aspect across the park and loads of delightful period features. The Aston Martin was an 'extravagant, bloody indulgence' but she couldn't care less what her father thought; she adored it. Well, what the hell, no kids and a six figure salary plus bonuses. She couldn't take it with her.

Her love life was looking up too.

The wine bar was one the unattached girls and boys from the practice liked to go to at the end of a long week's cutting and sewing. On the evening in question, as busy as ever; getting served involving extended periods standing with a ten pound note in your hand, waving it in a vain attempt to attract the attention of the staff.

He'd used a pretty good 'crap' chat-up line.

Pressed against the bar, amongst the heaving mass of thirsty punters, Abby hadn't noticed him moving up beside her.

“Gorgonzola.”

“What?”

“Sorry, is that too cheesy?”

A knockout smile, tall, handsome, well dressed. He smelled good too. What more could she want? She couldn't help but laugh. He offered to buy her a drink and, by the end of the evening, he'd come twice. She'd come so many times she'd lost count and almost lost consciousness.

The passion and adventure of their sex was incredible. They'd done things she'd only ever read about in novels; including a threesome. She could tick that off the bucket list but made it clear to him it was a one-off. He, of course, pestered her for a repeat on a regular basis.

One major issue marred things; his marital status.

Abby never planned this, never thought she'd end up being 'the other woman' but nonetheless, here she was. However, with Abby behind him, he would gain the courage to leave his awful wife, she was sure of it. Patience - she loved him and he loved her. It would all work out ok. Abby was going to win.

***

Garry Black loved being a copper. There were lots of crap things about the job for sure but, ultimately, he could park them in a corner of his mind. Nothing compared to the power trip when he collared some little turd in a tracksuit for attacking a pensioner or some junkie wanker helping himself to a shop-keeper's profits. The adrenaline-infused thrill of driving at ridiculous speeds with total impunity took some beating. And, talking of beating, he absolutely loved when things got physical; it was a matter of personal pride that he'd never been felled in the line of duty. That despite plenty of big (and little) fuckers having a bloody good go.

He'd worked in a variety of stations across London but liked working in Hackney the best. Yes, the place was challenging and a lot of the clientèle left something to be desired, but it was never dull. One of the main reasons for enjoying his job so much in recent times was his promotion to work in the Specialist Crime and Operations Directorate or SCO19 as it was known. Racing round town in a Trojan, bristling with guns, was the stuff of every small boy's fantasy. His latest partner was a good guy. Unfortunately, Garry's wife didn't like Steve much. She thought him a bad influence but they had a laugh and a similar outlook on life. What mattered most in such a perilous occupation was having a partner you could trust to watch your back. Steve was that guy, so his wife's misgivings were irrelevant. Armed Response was a dangerous job and the training tough but worth all the effort. It certainly knocked being a beat cop into a cocked hat. The job also brought with it prestige, earning them kudos and sour envy in equal measure.

The revenge stuff amused Garry. Although, he did think most of what Steve suggested ended up being pretty tame. Garry managed to persuade him to up the ante a bit for the trucker, which was  fun. What happened after was unfortunate but he'd not lose any sleep. The guy just wouldn't take a telling; he deserved it. One less dangerous arsehole on the road to worry about. Getting caught worried him though. Steve was right about keeping a low profile at work regarding the case. There was no point being unnecessarily bold about such things; after all, it would definitely threaten his freedom and he really didn't like the idea of being an ex-copper in prison.

***

It came to me as I drove; on the evening I saw the YouTube footage. It suddenly seemed so obvious. I couldn't understand why it hadn't occurred to me earlier. Garry!

He knew all about my revenge schemes; hell, he was there when several of them were taking place. He chastised me regularly for not going far enough, for being a pussy, letting them away with such minor punishments. He had the opportunity and the information it would take to go after all of my victims and...that trucker. That was the one that really got to me.

Of course, Ernie Martin was a little bastard who couldn't take a hint when he got one. Of course, he put other people's lives in danger. But, he never actually killed anyone, or even caused any kind of accident as far as I could ascertain. I'd looked up his record: two speeding tickets and a fine for using his mobile while driving. There were thousands of others like him. Killing him was a step too far. Way too far.

I drove home and went to bed but didn't sleep much.

At work the next morning, I texted Garry and asked him to meet me in the car park. Ten minutes later I stood facing him, my stomach churning. He could be a feisty fucker and really knew how to handle himself in a scrap. I'd seen him first hand when his dander was up; a fearsome sight to behold. I needed to find out without sparking a dangerous reaction.

“How's it going, Garry?”

“Fine, mate. How's you?”

“Yeah, ok.”

An awkward silence ensued. It might only have lasted a few seconds but it felt like I had time to recite the entire works of Shakespeare before Garry prompted me.

“So, what's up, Steve? Why did you ask me to meet you?”

“It's a bit delicate, mate. I don't want you to overreact but I need to ask you something, ok?”

He frowned. “What are you going on about, Steve? Just ask me whatever it is you want to know. If I can help, I will.”

“Are you Citizen V?”

He frowned again, then grinned, then burst out laughing.

“Hahaha! For fuck's sake, mate, that's absolutely priceless! Citizen V? Hahahaha! What a belter! No you wanker, I'm not Citizen V. Why the fuck would you think something like that?”

He continued to laugh and shake his head. A very genuine reaction. I was good at reading liars; the job gave you that skill in shovelfuls.

“It's just, well, you're the only one who knows about all of my exploits. Whoever is doing this is watching what I do and then upping the ante punishment-wise. You're always slagging me off for being a pussy. I put two and two together...”

“...and got six you daft sod! You
are
a pussy but I would never go as far as killing someone. I'm a copper for fuck's sake! It would look pretty bad on the CV don't you think?”

I also started laughing and we indulged in a manly hug.

“I'm sorry, mate. I've been spooked by this whole thing. I want answers. I need to know who the fuck is behind this stuff.”

Garry abruptly became thoughtful and quiet. He looked at the floor with hands on his hips, gently tapping his toes.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“It
might
be her...” He avoided my gaze again as my thoughts went into overdrive.  

It might be. Again, I worried about my lack of intuition. Surgically precise. She knew about my exploits through pillow talk and she always reacted enthusiastically. Maybe a little too enthusiastically?

Abby was a wild bitch. Having a posh education, a good job and a plummy accent provided no hindrance as far as outrageous sexual behaviour was concerned. She could be impulsive too, daring me to do things I'd never normally think about, never mind do. The headphones thing actually came from her...

All that might be true but could it really be her? A massive wave of insecurity and doubt crashed over me, like a rookie surfer caught in a rip tide. Maybe Garry
was
a liar? What if this was another of his tricks? Now I'd worked out what he was up to he first denied it, then tried to deflect the blame onto Abby.

“Aw, come on, Garry! Really? I know you don't approve of Abby, and you think I'm a dick for playing away from home, but why would she?”

He looked up at me.

“Because she's a fucking psycho, that's why!”

I was taken aback by this outburst. His antithesis clearly much greater than I thought it might be.

“Look, mate, I said this was a bit delicate and it's certainly turned out that way. Let's just cool off. I’m sorry I asked you. It's clearly not you but I can't believe it's Abby either. I'll see you later when we go out on patrol, ok?”

He looked at me and shrugged. As he walked away towards the station building I heard him mutter, “Pussy!”

I let it ride, heading back into the building a few paces behind. I needed time to think. Rather than resolve anything, the last few minutes seemed to have made things worse.   

I spent all day fretting over the situation with Garry. Communication between me and my partner got pretty monosyllabic. We did our job but not much more.

The seed he planted regarding Abby germinated, then grew hour by hour, developing in my mind like a triffid. I was due to meet Abby that evening and, for most of the day, I had no idea how I was going deal with her. I imagined confronting her with accusations of being Citizen V would be a damn sight harder than it was with Garry. I just couldn't get my head around the idea. I didn't want to get my head around the idea.

In the circumstances, I decided it would make sense to simplify my life and dump Abby. My head pulsed with enough complications and potential unexploded bombs. I didn't need the stress of worrying when she might light the fuse to her pile of ordinance. Anyway, it was only ever a sexual thing. I had no deep feelings for her and made no promises. I wasn't prepared to abandon my wife for something as trivial as getting my end away more exotically than normal - no matter how enjoyable. If Abby did turn out to be Citizen V, I would need to find some way to deal with it.