The Book of Revenge (3 page)

The man climbed off the bed and walked into the en-suite. When he walked back into the room a few minutes later, I was waiting. He froze when he saw me, his eyes fixed on the gun. I waved it at him and he followed my instruction and fell to his knees.

‘No! Please. I have money, you want money? I’ll open the safe. Yes, the safe. You can have it all...’

I wasn’t interested in the safe, or his money. But it gave me some small satisfaction that he considered his life worth pleading or paying for.

He didn’t want to comply. But a gun is a powerful incentive. He asked me why? A tiny word, but I couldn’t answer other than with the shot that ended his life.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell everyone. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not until it was over. Then everyone would know why and understand.

I felt a huge surge of anger at his question, and I suppose a feeling of vindication. Not that I needed it. I knew what I was doing was right. The man should have known. In his heart he should have known that this day would come. The past always has to be paid for.

Matt had an unlit cigarette in one hand and an unopened bottle of whisky in the other. He looked as he felt, a tormented man. His mobile phone rang. He looked at the clock. Twenty past midnight. With a sigh and a deep breath he put the bottle down and answered it. ‘Jen, don’t you ever sleep?’

‘Gotta another one boss,’ she replied.

Matt looked down at the body. A cold chill seeped into his bones. He knew what it was. That voice that was locked away in his head was screaming and hammering on the door to be let loose. He ignored the voice and fought the fear.

‘Same killer Gov.’ Jen said, pointing to the writing, which was on the wall this time, low down as though the victim had scrawled it while on his knees. ‘Do you think we’ve got a serial killer...?’

Matt looked at his younger colleague, she could barely hide her excitement at the prospect. ‘We don’t know what we’ve got yet; it’s too early to tell,’ he replied. Pleased that his voice didn’t reveal his own turmoil.

‘Did the victims know each other?’ She said. ‘Dope-head and a solicitor, user and supplier maybe?’

Matt looked around the room, his eyes stopped at the writing. Big sprawling letters ‘
SORRY
’ written in capitals, and not very well, the writer's hand was probably shaking. Not surprising with a gun to his head. The killer was a very good shot. One bullet fired into the forehead, execution style.

‘No break in again.’ Jen said. ‘The victims must know the killer. What links it all together?’ She walked across to stand beside Matt. ‘And what do they all have to be sorry about?’

That was a question that Matt hardly dared to ask. Adam Odell was dead, now Edward Sharp was a bloody mess on his bedroom floor. Were they random victims of a killer with a grudge against mankind? Or were they carefully selected to pay for a past crime?

‘The lipstick must be significant.’ Jen said. ‘We should get a forensics report from the Odell killing soon. It looks to me like cheap, over the counter, available everywhere make up.’

Matt was tired, pissed off, and more than a little bit rattled. He had a horrible hunch creeping up on him. He just hoped to god that he was wrong.

Kylie Martin stayed under the duvet even though her alarm was ringing. She didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to face a new day. Her Dad was up, she could hear him downstairs. He’d been out till the early hours. Again. Not that she cared. It meant he was tired and often drunk. Anything that kept him away from her was fine.

She pushed the covers off and grudgingly climbed out of bed. She glanced at her clock, it was nearly eight. He would leave at about twenty past. Trouble was if she left it until then to go downstairs she wouldn’t have time for breakfast, or time to make her lunch, before she had to leave. Not that she cared about being late for school. But her form tutor, Ms Low, was a bitch and would tell her dad. Any excuse to get him into the school. Kylie was pretty sure the bitch had a thing for him. Rumour was the Lilo, as her students called her, had a bit of a thing for anything under fifty with a dick. Her tummy rumbled, but she’d just have to grab a banana on her way out.

Kylie moved a chair away from the door. Although it was a fairly heavy computer chair, it still wasn’t much of a barrier. But just having it pushed against there, gave her the illusion of safety. Kylie pulled the door open slowly and peeped onto the landing. A squat, think set, unspeakably ugly dog was outside her door, growling menacingly. Her dad had forgotten to shut Bruce in the garden. The brute would stay outside her room all day now, keeping her prisoner until her father came home again. Kylie closed her door, pushed the chair back into position. Her stomach moaned, complaining it was empty and she needed to pee. But what could she do? She crawled back into bed and pulled the duvet over her head closing her eyes.

Chapter Eight

Andrew watched as a couple of young girls tried on strappy shoes. They should have been at school, but were clearly bunking. He straightened his hair down and popped a mint chewing gum into his mouth. He was a well-built man who knew he still looked good as he approached the big four zero. What he didn’t know was that up close, he looked worn with hard eyes and thin lips. He fancied himself as a charmer. He was wrong.

He crossed the shop floor to approach the girls. His assistant, seventeen year old Gemma was helping them. ‘Gemma, the stock room needs dusting. I’ll deal with the pretty wenches,’ he grinned, pleased with his ability to be witty and charming.

Gemma pulled a face at the girls that made it very clear what she really thought of him. The girls laughed in agreement.

Andrew was encouraged. He thought they were responding to him rather than laughing at him. ‘Be a sweetie and make me a coffee.’ He said to her departing back. He looked at the girls and smiled his best smile, which was just plain creepy, ‘lots of perks to being the big boss.’

The two girls exchanged a look. Silent communication completed they got up and left. Andrew’s eyes lingered on their very short skirts. ‘Sluts,’ he muttered, as he watched them go.

Matt saw Liz as she entered the car park. Her head was down; she was walking towards her car. He knew the sensible thing to do was walk away, and fast. His infatuation, or whatever it was that made him chase after her, was a complication he could do without.

He saw her climb into her car, he sped up. It was like he was attached by an invisible elastic cord and every time he saw her she drew him in.

She was sat in the driver’s seat but the engine wasn’t running. She seemed to be fixated on the carpark ticket machine. The local traffic warden approached the machine and she seemed to suddenly wake up from her day dream. She glanced at the dashboard clock, Matt guessed her ticket must be about to expire. He looked towards the warden and saw that another man had approached. It was Andrew Martin; they seemed to be having a heated argument. There was a lot of shouting and hand waving. Matt watched as Andrew pushed the warden who stumbled backwards but managed to keep on his feet, hurling abuse Andrew stormed off.

Show over, Matt knocked on her window and watched as she jumped in surprise. He bent down grinning at her through the glass. He was a bit disappointed that the first expression he saw on her face was irritation, although it was quickly hidden with a smile.

‘There’s a law against stalking,’ she said, as the electric window slid down.

He tried to look serious, but was sure he failed. ‘Call a policeman. Tell you what; I’ll do it for you.’ Matt whipped his warrant card from his pocket and flashed it at her.

‘An Inspector, I’m impressed. Am I under arrest?’

‘Depends,’ he said, enjoying himself, ‘have you done anything wrong?’

Liz looked like she was thinking hard. ‘Nope, not today...’

‘Well, loitering in a public place could look suspicious, anti-terrorism laws and all that.’

Liz looked suitably concerned, her face was serious, but she couldn’t hide the amusement in her eyes, ‘Sorry officer.’

Matt grinned. ‘Have a drink with me tonight and I’ll let you off this time.’

Chapter Ten

James Tate climbed off his peddle bike and pushed it through his back gate. He leant it against the wall. He closed and locked the gate, then headed into the house through the back door. He was tired; it had been a long day. He looked older than his thirty seven years; time had not been kind to him. He hung his coat on the hook in the hall and carried on into the lounge. It was a small, poorly furnished room, in need of decoration and not even that clean. His job as a traffic warden didn’t win him any popularity prizes. Nor did it give him a life of luxury. But it did keep a roof over his and his daughter’s head, and in a life that had little else to commend it, Annie was his world.

The TV was on. His mother in law, Paula - Or more accurately, his ex-mother in law, stood up. She didn’t smile; she rarely did, not even at her little granddaughter. There was a lot of tension and bad history between her and James.

‘She’s asleep,’ Paula said, as she walked past him and out of the front door.

He hated asking the woman for help, but he couldn’t afford a babysitter and he had to work. If his witch of an ex-wife hadn’t let him down at the last minute then he wouldn’t have had the problem. To her credit, Paula never said no. James suspected that she wasn’t any happier with her daughter’s lack of reason and responsibility than he was.

James dropped down onto the worn sofa; he was hungry and thirsty, but too knackered to go to the kitchen in search of food. He closed his eyes.

Matt stood at the bar wondering for the hundredth time what he was doing. He’d scrubbed up well, even got himself a quick, last minute haircut. He ordered a mineral water and watched the door. He avoided looking at his watch and the clock on the wall behind the bar. He didn’t have to see the time to know she was late. She wasn’t going to show, and who could blame her. He was beginning to think that the inevitable had finally happened and he had gone completely insane. What was he playing at? He looked down at the ring on his left hand. With a quick glance to make sure nobody was watching he tugged it off his finger and dropped it into his pocket.

Andrew Martin walked into the bar and they exchanged a brief look before he went to the opposite end of the bar and out of view. Matt took a deep breath followed by a long slug of his water. Just as he decided it was time to leave, she came through the door.

She had changed from the smart suit she was wearing earlier into jeans and a top. She looked amazing and he knew he wasn’t the only man in the room who thought so. It wasn’t just the way she looked that made her stand out. She had a presence about her. If she was an actress, it would be described as charisma. That indefinable something that made everyone take notice.

He bought her a drink and led her to an empty table in a quieter corner of the bar. It all felt a little awkward to start with, but they soon started chatting.

‘So what brings you to Bidbury? Most people try to get away; you must have a very good reason for moving here by choice.’

‘It’s not that bad, is it?’

‘I’m not known for my exaggeration.’ Matt said, smiling at her, ‘if anything I’m understating the case.’

‘It’s a work relocation.’

‘Really?’ He couldn’t believe anyone would choose Bidbury. ‘So what do you do?’

‘You could say I’m a community consultant.’

He looked at her blankly.

‘I help people,’ she said, smiling at him.

He still had no idea what her job was but he was happy enough to be sat opposite her. ‘So you’ll be around for a while then?’

She shrugged her shoulders in a ‘maybe’ type way and sipped her red wine. ‘What about you?’ she said, ‘did you always want to be a policeman?’

‘No. Actually I was set on the path to being a doctor. My father was a surgeon, a heart specialist. I always thought it was a noble profession, saving lives like that.’

‘What went wrong?’ she asked, ‘it’s a bit of a leap isn’t it? I mean doctor to detective inspector.’

Matt finished his beer, he was aware that she was watching him closely, he felt a bit uncomfortable. He wanted to believe it was because she found him fascinating and irresistible, but he had the feeling it was more like she was wondering what the hell she was doing having a drink with him. ‘I guess I just realised that I wasn’t noble enough,’ he finally said. He stood up and pointed to her barely touched glass. ‘Another?’

Liz shook her head, ‘No thanks.’

He got a beer for himself and returned to the table. He tried to ask her more about herself and they chatted for another twenty minutes or so; she was easy to talk too. But at some point he realised that she had given nothing away, or at least nothing personal, about herself. His attempts to learn more about her were dodged with the skill of a politician being interviewed. All he knew was that she had a daughter at university and that she’d only moved into Bidbury four days ago. So much for his interrogation skills!

He was disappointed when she stood up to leave, even though he had been expecting it from the moment she arrived. He walked her out into the street. They hovered just outside; he wasn’t sure what to do next. He took a deep breath to gather his courage. Was he going to kiss her? Or ask her out again? Before he had a chance to decide, she spoke.