A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) (13 page)

If
you have ever had one of those mornings after a night out when you wake up
early and just can’t get back to sleep, then you know a little of my pain the
day after the chase.  I was suffering from sleep deprivation and a mind numbed
by hours of police questioning.  The worst part was that once I was finished in
the Lake District, Merseyside police wanted some information from me.  Luckily
for me I had a good friend with excellent connections.  Rich pulled some
strings and we managed to avoid being arrested or further interrogation.  He
unfortunately had to leave once he had dropped me off at my car in the early
hours of the morning.

On
the journey back to Liverpool he told me how he had taken the gun from
Ambrose’s house in case he needed it.  I was glad he stole it to be honest but
I was left wondering if it wasn’t part of what triggered Leo’s mental
collapse.  We would never know unfortunately which also meant we knew nothing
about his other motives because of the trigger finger of a police marksman.

One
question Rich refused to give a straight answer to was why he was being allowed
to leave police custody after using an illegal firearm.  That had surprised me
quite a bit but obviously whoever needed him out of the country had enough
clout to get the charges dropped, that or Rich is allowed to carry a handgun. 
He gave me no clue as to which was the truth and I just marked it up as another
of his clandestine roots that were not worth pursuing.

My
car had been left unmolested in complete contradiction to the standard jokes about
Liverpool and although it was only a short drive to my hotel I was completely
drained which made me extra cautious.  A lack of sleep can be as dangerous as
driving under the influence of alcohol and after the day I’d had I was
struggling to maintain complete vehicular control.

With
a throbbing headache I fell face first onto my hotel bed and let the cool
sheets relax me like a splash of water.  I woke to the sound of my mobile
ringing and I rolled over, my neck stiff from the awkward angle I had fallen
asleep in.  Grunting at the effort I looked at the screen which displayed the
face of Harris.  For a moment I just stared at the phone and contemplated
ignoring it and falling back asleep but that would not have been the most
professional thing for me to do.

“Morning
Harris,” I managed to mumble out, my throat dry and grating.

“Finally
you answer; I’ve been ringing you for the better part of a day.”

“Yeah
sorry about that I’ve been rather busy,” I managed to croak as I rolled off the
bed and to the bathroom for a glass of water.

“I
know all about it boss, you were on the news and everything.”

That
statement led to a spit-take all over the bathroom mirror and dropping my phone
into the sink.  After wiping it clean and replacing the battery, I rang Harris
back, “Sorry about that, a slight mishap.  So what did you need me for?”

“Originally
I was ringing to tell you about your friend Camille.  You know I still go on
her site from time to time just in case you want me to pull the plug on it;
well there was a post on it linked to the newspapers website about the
shootings.  It was posted before the police released their statement on the
calibre, hell I think they had to because of what she had written.  The problem
was she had also basically mentioned you by name.”

I
was boiling the kettle for my morning cup of tea and getting undressed as he
told me this, a wave of anger rising in me, “Harris, I’m not near a computer at
the moment so just tell me what she said.”

“Ok
I’m just gonna paraphrase it but she basically said her source ‘a respected and
well known local former detective with years of experience and expertise in
serial killers’ has told this reporter that there may be more to the shootings
in Liverpool.  She said that the Boulton shooting was the work of a killer with
a high calibre rifle.  Obviously once it was announced that the massacre at the
football was due to a gunman with a rifle it made her statement all the more
important.  Hell, she was on the news most of the day.”

Running
a hand back and forth through my short hair I asked, “Did she actually mention
me by name?”

“Not
that I saw but I wasn’t glued to the screen till the car chase.  Got to be
honest though it was a little dull till the shootout and even then we didn’t
get to see anything good.”

“Did
they know who I was?”

“A
first no but Camille was still in the studio for her interview and she must
have said something because they dug out some footage from outside the court
when you spoke at the Lewis Hart trial.”

“So
any sort of cover I had here is essentially blown?” I whispered slumping down
on the bed, merely stating the words for myself.

Harris
must have realised that from my tone and replied, “I don’t know about that boss
but I’d keep your head down for the time being.  It doesn’t matter though,
right, you caught the guy anyway?”

I
took a sip of my tea collecting my thoughts and then said something that had
been gnawing away at the back of my mind for nearly a day, “I don’t know if
Ambrose was the shooter.”

“What
do you mean you don’t know if he was the shooter?  You were involved in a high
speed car chase halfway up the country, which resulted in Ambrose trying to
kill you before he was himself killed.  How can you not think he was the guy
killing people?”

“Call
it a hunch.”

“You
know me boss I don’t usually care what goes on during our cases but this was
actually interesting for once.  You’ve got to tell me more.”

“I
don’t know what it is Harris I’ve just got this feeling there
are
going
to be more shootings now.  Ambrose just doesn’t fit for me.”

“He
had a gun like the one used at the football pitches, he was a survivalist nut
and most important of all he tried to kill you.”

“Yeah
but I’ve had innocent people that have tried to kill me before.  Anyway I just
think there is more to this.  Plus I have to stay here and dig a little deeper
anyway.”

“How
come?”

Finishing
my tea to calm myself some more I answered, “I tried to convince the
investigators that if Ambrose was responsible for the shooting at the football
pitches then he should also be a suspect in the Boulton killing.  Since no
bullet was ever found and the damage to the boy’s head was rather significant
there was enough to look at.  They however said that without some clear
evidence and the fact that Morrison confessed to the crime they weren’t going
to reopen their investigation.  I need to find something there that sheds light
on that shooting.”

“Looks
like a hard slog then boss.”

“Probably.”

“Well
this might help.  I was ringing about the whole Camille thing but I also did a
little digging like you asked on Fraser’s gym.  I checked the land registry for
it and some basic rent agreements, turns out it is owned by a company called Tālūt
which
is registered in the Cayman Islands with offices in Tenerife, Istanbul and
Banjul.  The rent is rather low but Fraser has racked up a fair bit of debt
just paying the bills.”

I
paused for a moment dredging up memories long ago discarded to the recesses of
my mind, in the end I resorted to a quick internet search to confirm my
thoughts, “Tālūt is from Qur’an which leads me to believe it is
Saul’s company that owns the gym.”

“I’m
not following.”

“Since
I’ve been here I’ve heard rumours and stories about this mysterious figure
called Big Saul; he’s regarded as something of a drugs kingpin.  It’s been a
long time since I read any religious scripture but I read all of the main texts
when I was younger.  Tālūt is the Islamic version of the name Saul which
shows some education from the man or maybe just a cool sounding one he picked
up from an internet search,”
much like I have
I thought, “Either way it
has some significance.  Banjul and Istanbul are both predominantly Muslim areas
and both are also drug capitals.  A name for a company which is more than
likely a front wont been seen as too bad.  It wouldn’t surprise me though if
there is another company with a more anglicised name for imports into this
country since the intelligence services might be more vigilant in investigating
haulage companies with Islamic names.  I’m saying they profile but it wouldn’t
be a surprise.”

“You
surprise me boss.  I mean the things you know.”

“Thanks,
it’s not like I have some sort of unrealistic memory, Harris, it’s just I made
an effort when I was younger to make my decision on religion based on learning
from them.  I wanted to know more since I didn’t really like the idea of being
coerced into being a Catholic like my mother.  Pretty sure the name came up in
a pub quiz back before smart phones ruined the fun of actually knowing things,”
I said smiling for the first time that morning lying through my teeth.

My
words seemed to insult the technologically dependent Harris, who remained
silent for a long pause before offering, “I’ll see what else I can find on this
Saul person then and if he has any other companies if it helps.”

“I
can’t see any harm in it.  Thanks Harris, see you soon.”

“Oh
one more thing boss; is there any disposable cash for me to use in the office?”

I
knew it was a loaded question and there was no way I was going to let him in
the safe so I just hung up the phone as if I had never heard the question.

After
hearing from Harris I was in no mood to go back to sleep. It may have also have
been due to the caffeine in my system.  Showered and dressed once again in a
suit I walked down the stairs of the hotel.  I was still tired, my eyes sore
from the lack of sleep. Every time I blinked it was a refreshing coldness that
was willing me to go back upstairs to bed.  The soft mattress and pillow was
still in my mind as the desk clerk called out to me.  I put on my best smile
and walked towards him, hoping that he wasn’t just speaking to me because of
being on television.

“Mister
Harper, a gentleman left you something this morning,” the thin young man said
smiling back at me.

He
lifted a package from behind the counter.  It was a rectangular box wrapped in
paper that was more fitting for a small child than a grown man.  I was a little
wary of item but took it from the concierge and thanked him for it.  I made a
mental note to tip the young man when I checked out as I wanted to get to
Sheila Morrison’s house as soon as possible.

With
the parcel under my arm I sat down in my car and rubbed my face with both
hands.  Yes I was tired but I was also dreading telling Sheila that the best
chance I’d had at getting her son out of jail was now gone.  The suspect hadn’t
spoken and was now just a cold corpse on an autopsy table somewhere.  Hopefully
she could try and talk some sense into her son and make things easier.  Maybe
the detectives investigating Ambrose’s house would come up with some evidence
that linked him to the Boulton shooting that could save Thomas from a long
prison term.

There
was a tag on the package that had been left for me.

Sorry
I’ve left you up the creek as it were old friend.  See you soon and good luck.

Rich

PS
Stay safe and sorry about the wrapping paper it was all that the shop had in
stock in the early hours.

I
smiled and was about to rip through the paper when my phone rang.  The number
wasn’t one I recognised but it was a local area code.

“Hello?”

“Is
that John Harper?” a voice asked on a bad connecting line masking the caller.

“Yeah
and who am I speaking to?”

“It’s
Max Fraser.”

I
was surprised but was curious as to why he had bothered calling me, “Sorry I
didn’t recognise your voice there Mister Fraser.”

“Yeah
I’m using the public phone outside the gym.  Don’t have much use for a phone
line here and don’t like those mobile things; rot your brain.”

“No
problem.  How can I help you?” I asked putting the parcel in glove compartment
and leaning back into the cushioned driving seat.

“I
saw you on the television last night and it reminded me about your ticket for
the fights on Saturday.  If you could drive round I’ll give you it.”

Even
with the sleep deprivation cobwebs clogging up my mental gears I knew there was
more to the phone call than just to give me a ticket to some boxing bout, “Ok
yeah as long as I don’t have to fight anyone I guess I’ll pop in later today.”

“You
do that copper and don’t worry my boys don’t need the exercise.”

Fraser
hung up and I was left pondering the call.  Deciding it was best left till
after meeting Sheila Morrison I set off, hoping that there would be something to
help the woman in the near future.

I
was in the Morrison home for over an hour.  When I left I felt drained by the
experience.  I’d delivered the news of a loved one’s passing more times than I
cared to think of but this was different.  Cases that I couldn’t close due to
lack of evidence still nagged at the back of my mind, my memory not letting me
forget them but this investigation was something else.  All that would save
Tommy from a life behind bars which would probably end inside a prison cell at
the hands of a rival gang member was my investigation.  Sheila Morrison was
relying on me and telling her that my best lead was bust didn’t help.

Amazingly
the woman was somehow upbeat about everything, pleased that I had been getting
somewhere.  She was strong and resilient in the face of such hardship.  Her
living room still showed signs of damage from the grenade attack but was
orderly.  I had a brief look around Thomas’s room but knew that the police
would have taken anything of interest to their case.  It was just the usual
stuff for a teenage boy otherwise; nothing that suggested he was a killer in
any way.  It must be so difficult for her to walk past that room thinking that
her son may never come home because of stubbornness and a misguided sense of
loyalty.

Sheila
was going later that day to visit Thomas and hopefully she could convince him
to tell the truth which could help but I knew full well that there needed to be
evidence otherwise.  I just hoped I could find it.

I
left with the feeling that she would never give up on her son which was no
surprise and with a renewed purpose.  It was that feeling that led me to ring
Camille Jarvis as I drove towards Fraser’s Gym.

The
earpiece rang loudly five times before she answered, “Hi John, sorry can’t
really talk I’m busy at the moment.”

“Yeah
I can imagine,’ I paused making her wait, ‘busy talking to the television crews
then?  You working hard on promoting your profile?”

“John,
I’m sorry about identifying you on the news but I was there and it could really
help me.  What helps me, John, can help you,” her tone was saccharin as if it
could somehow reduce my anger.

“Stop
saying my name.  I know that it is just one of your techniques to build the
facade of a relationship, Camille.  I told you not to run the rifle angle.”

There
was a moment’s pause as she exhaled her tone shifting when she answered, “The
people needed to know.  Maybe if I had released it sooner then perhaps people
might have been more vigilant.”

“Don’t
try that crap with me sweetheart there is no way my theory could have saved
those men.  You flatter yourself thinking that enough people read your website
and column.  What you did was for one person and that was you.  I just hope it
was worth it and you can live with a man’s death on your conscience.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Ambrose.
He died because of your words.”

“How
can you say that?”

“Just
think about it Camille, he was a loner and yeah something of a gun nut
survivalist.  You helped stoke the flames of his paranoia.  Anything he could
have told the police as towards the other shootings is impossible now.  That
young Morrison boy will rot in jail because there isn’t enough evidence to
convince them otherwise all because you ran your mouth,” I rushed off, the
passion in my voice evident.

“The
story broke, John. I’m sorry about Morrison but if he didn’t do it then the
truth will come out eventually.”

I
laughed, “You know you’re lucky girl, Camille.   Ambrose dying gets you off the
hook somewhat.  He’s not exactly that hired gunman you had been writing about.”

“What
do you mean I’m off the hook?”

“Well
you’ve been running your mouth about this Big Saul character and from what I
hear he’s a dangerous man to be messing with even if you are wrong.  With
Ambrose dying though all that talk just gets forgotten and you can move on to
bigger and better things.  But let’s just say Ambrose wasn’t the shooter and an
innocent man died through fear and paranoia.  It comes back to what you wrote
about earlier and with your new found fame more people might start looking into
Big Saul.  Might not be the best thing for your career making powerful deadly
enemies.”

“What
do you mean if Ambrose was innocent?  The man pointed a gun at you; he was
going to kill you.  And you know what John, journalists make enemies when they
search for real stories.”

Smiling
to myself because I caught the fear and false bravado in her voice I replied,
“I was just playing devil’s advocate, my dear.  Let’s just hope that they got
the right man and no one else dies.”

I
ended the call feeling a weight released from my shoulders.  She deserved to
have a little fear and remorse over what she had done but I hoped that there
wouldn’t be any more shootings, not just for her but for the city.