A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) (20 page)

“Why?”
the bald man continued.

“A
military man would go for the lieutenants or the main guys,” Saul answered,
“albeit it would be more difficult since we are more protected and don't go out
on the street but it would cause more damage to target the command structure.”

I
nodded, once again impressed with Saul, “This gunman is intelligent however and
he will come after you in time.  I don't want you to start a witch-hunt within
your own communities but look for someone with military training or skill with
firearms,” I realised the stupidity of those words when a titter of laughter
escaped from most of the group, “Look for someone who has a grudge against you
and maybe has trouble holding down a job.  More often than not they move
professions.  However that isn’t always the case they could also be very
methodical in what they do, so be vigilant.”

A
few of the faces nodded slightly as if they were thinking of possible suspects
or taking on board what I said.  I had delivered speeches like that before and
knew how to convey the information in a manner that would convey the importance
but also bring a sense of entertainment to the proceedings.  They had to be
interested in what was happening, so as to ensure that they were vigilant
against any attack.

Saul
stood up next to me, “I thank Mister Harper for enlightening on this matter.  I
think I can speak for all of us present that we wish you the best of luck in
finding this gunman and the sooner the better.  Now if you would kindly leave
us, we have business to discuss and it would be best if you were not present.”

Nodding
my agreement, I shook his offered hand and nodded in the direction of the
table.  Before I walked out the kingpin leant in and whispered into my ear,
“Just because I’ve put the order out doesn’t mean they will all adhere to it. 
Best to keep away from Elsworth and Kai Nelson’s group if you can.”

I
thanked him, stepped out of the room and collected my things from the front
desk.  I left the snooker hall and was confronted by fading light and a waiting
taxi, thankful that I had made it out of the inner sanctum alive.

He waited
patiently beyond the treeline. The ghillie suit he was wearing was remarkably
comfortable. It was essentially homemade and he had used it before whilst
stalking pheasant and, on the odd occasion, fox. With the addition of some of
the local flora, he was confident that he was completely hidden from view.

There was no
need to create a complete hide, and he didn't intend to leave any evidence that
he had been there. All of his waste, be it his own effluence or wrapping from
prepared food and water, was bagged and placed inside the small bag next to
him. He ignored any odour coming from it as his attention was focussed on the
driveway and front garden of the house before him.

It was less of
a house and more of a mansion. A newly built building with terracotta coloured
brickwork and sandstone pillars used as a decorative feature. It was not a
particularly nice domicile to look at, ridiculously grandiose and with
additions from a variety of other homes. Outside in the garden stood an old gas
lamp used for street lighting and off to one side near the garage, a red
telephone box. Flanking the doors stood marble lions with their mouths open.
During the night he had placed his crosshairs between their eyes and envisioned
pulling the trigger, watching the stone shatter as if it were the skull of his
target.

He knew what it
was like to watch a head explode due to the power of his rifle. There was
nothing particularly special about his weapon. It was modified for his personal
use, and with the camouflage taping and additional pieces of shrubbery attached
to it meant that, it was ideal for this role. The rifle rested comfortably on a
moss covered tree stump, the butt in his shoulder as he lay prone.

He had been
there for over twenty-four hours, waiting patiently. The range from the
treeline was nothing compared to the distances he had practised over but was
still far enough for him to remain completely unseen when he pulled the
trigger. He was at least twenty yards into the woodland but had a very clear
field of vision for the driveway and the door.

Getting into
the grounds was easy; although there were some security systems years, of
neglect around the perimeter meant that there were three possible ingress
points that he knew of. This location had been known to him for at least two
years which meant his preparation for this attack was as good as he could have
wanted. The timing for this attack was now perfect and he knew the target would
be arriving soon. Nothing had been left to chance for this assault.

The property
was nearly entirely surrounded by woodland as it was near the grounds of one of
the local Earls. That meant there were no satellite images of the grounds
itself within the public domain to look at. Finding out who owned the property
had presented a problem as well but once he found out who lived there, the
planning had taken over. Motion sensors and cameras couldn't protect every inch
and with the lack of maintenance, he had been able to locate the weaknesses and
over multiple trips through he had found the best possible locations to set up.
Now, on a cold winter night, he lay as close to the ground as he was humanly
able, secure in the knowledge that he could not have done any more.

He rested his
cheek on the wooden stock and closed his eyes, letting his heart rate settle
again as he had momentarily got excited at the prospect of opening fire. His
breathing was measured and he held it when he thought he heard the sound of a
car engine. The distinctive noise reverberated through the trees and he needed
to calm his breathing once more.

The weight of
one car and then another crunched on the stone before stopping at the main
gate. He couldn't see it from his position but he didn't need to. The gatehouse
guard opened the metal barrier and in drove the two vehicles. A small smile
crossed his face and he made himself comfortable. Checking for windage with a
practised ease, he set himself ready to take the shot.

Lights flooded
the garden but he was ready for that and allowed his eyes time to adjust as the
first car disgorged its passengers. Four men dressed in suits raced to the
front door and created a sort of perimeter defence. From the second car one man
stood out and went to the rear driver’s side door, which was unfortunately away
from the shooter's location. He would now have to fire across the car roof or
wait for his target to come out from behind the protection of the vehicle,
which presented the problem of being a moving target. It was a variable he was
prepared for, but he would prefer going for the head shot on a stationary
person.

Delicately, he
flipped up the lens cover on his scope, although he was in shelter he did not
want to risk any stray light creating a reflection off the glasswork. He quickly
found the perfect position for his eyes and levelled the crosshairs where he
expected a head to be raised. His breathing became longer, his heart rate
slowing and in the silence of the woods he could hear it beating in his ears.
His finger moved to the trigger and he felt the comfortable weight, with his
left hand he removed the safety.

No thoughts
entered into his mind, a calm serenity of supreme focus was all he felt. This
was it, in seconds he would change the lives of hundreds of people. He saw a
grey haired head slowly appear from behind the car, inch by inch it rose,
millimetre by millimetre it filled the scope. Breathing out, he stopped and
held his breath, ready to fire. His finger tightened but noise filled the air
and it wasn't his rifle discharging.

The blaring of
a car horn filled the night but he couldn't let him distract him any longer and
the gunman fired. However the source of the beeping was hurtling down the
driveway having knocked through the gate, sheering one of them from its hinges.
The distraction had caused the target to turn towards the noise and duck
slightly, which meant the bullet that should have destroyed his brain missed
its intended mark and slammed into the shoulder of one of the bodyguards.

The car, which
was still honking its horn, came to a quick halt, spraying stone over the back
of the target's vehicle. The protective detail from the front of the house ran
towards their employer, weapons in hand, one of them loosing off shots towards
the newly arrived vehicle, hitting it with dull thuds. The driver opened his
door and dived out of the car.

Although he
knew he should leave after missing with that one shot, the gunman was angered
that he had not been able to hit his target first time and opened fire on the
bodyguards. He hit the first one in the chest sending him flying to the stone,
colouring it crimson with his blood as he skidded along. The second man to fall
in quick succession was hit in the thigh, his screams echoed in the night as he
crumpled to the ground. A third victim stood out in the open as if he stunned
by the sudden carnage, a pistol in his hand, but he didn't know where to point
it. The gunman looked at the man's startled face through the scope before
firing, the bullet smashing between the eyes and destroying the bodyguard's
features.

The fourth
bodyguard stayed near the house behind one of the pillars, his pistol the only
thing visible as he fired off rounds into the night. None of them were close to
the gunman but, not wanting to put himself in any danger, he turned slightly
towards the bodyguard and fired. The bullet hit the gun and sheared through
metal and then flesh, severing the trigger finger of the bodyguard and dropping
him to the ground and into view, which lead to another shot, this one through
his temple. Blood splattered over the white marble lion statues.

With no more
guards, the gunman reloaded his rifle, chambering another round and aiming it
towards the car his target had come out.  He fired once, shattering both of the
back seat windows.  The next round was into the passenger rear door but neither
shot did anything to move his target from behind cover.  The gunman heard the
guard from the gatehouse running up the driveway, his route serpentine to try
and give himself some protection.  However the rifleman was experienced at
shooting live game and, with two shots, dispatched the last of the protective
detail.

All of this had
happened in only a couple of minutes and now he lay there wondering if his
target would move.  Surely he had called for help by now but how long would it
take to arrive?  He knew the woodland well and could easily get to another
position without being seen but with the way the cars were parked there were
few locations he could reach to make an accurate shot.

There was a strong
temptation to stand up and finish the job with the pistol currently strapped to
his leg in a quick release holster, but there was the question of the driver
who had arrived.  As if in answer a pistol fired from beneath the target’s car
and a bullet whistled past and into the trees above him.  Four more shots rang
out, each of them much closer than the earlier shots from the bodyguard had
been.

With a little
more from the accurate return fire, the gunman zeroed in on the pistol flashes
and fired back.  He heard a yell and a smile crept across his face but suddenly
the driver stood up, firing across the boot of the car.  A bullet hit the log
the rifle was resting on, splintering it and startling the assassin.

Rolling away and behind the
cover of a tree, he took aim with the rifle and squared the scope on the
defined features of the driver, for a brief moment recognising the man, and
then he pulled the trigger.  However in the heat of firing he had very
unprofessionally lost count of how many rounds he had fired and instead of the
crack of the rifle firing he was greeted by a dull click as there was no bullet
to be expelled.  The driver was now once again behind cover and the gunman
decided against reloading and continuing.  He was angry with himself for not
counting his shots, for wasting rounds firing on the car, and that his target
had got away. 

He picked up the expelled
shells from his rifle, making sure to count each one as he placed them in his
pocket.  All of this was done in a low crouch through fear of being hit by any
fire from the driver.  Only a few parting shots were sent in his direction and
the gunman left by the way he had entered, already plotting his next attack.

After the taxi dropped me
off at the hotel, I went for a quick meal in a local pub.  The food was decent
and filling but I was distracted and still recovering from the day's
excitement.  My head was also rather sore, which went well with the injuries
I'd sustained.  I decided against any alcohol, even though there were a number
of excellent real ales on offer and I even saw a bottle of my favourite bourbon
behind the counter, which showed my determination to the job.

Instead I went back to my
room and once again looked through the photographs and reports.  My trusty
notebook was added to as well whilst I sat cross-legged on the bed.  I went
through what I had said to the dealers before and nodded to myself.  Sometimes
it was better to discuss things out in the open with others to understand it
better yourself.  Having a partner could be useful but it was unlikely I would
ever feel comfortable bringing Harris out in the field with me.

I did a quick internet
search of drug dealers or suspected ones in the area, to try and put names to
the faces I had seen but there was little to help other than the more obvious
of criminals such as Kai Nelson and Josh Murray.  Those two had been the
tracksuited individuals in the meeting and they were regarded as the leaders of
the Elsworth Warriors.  Most dealers that were photographed were now in
prison.  Still I wrote down what I could remember about their features as it
might come in use in the future.

I was tempted to ring
Spencer to see what he knew and if there was any news on the gun.  He had also
taken a couple of the bullets I had taken out of the gym wall and I was
interested in seeing if there was anything worth noting about them.  Normally
it would take a while for such information but with the scrutiny over the
shooting I thought he might be able to rush the labwork, even though Spencer
wasn't particularly happy with taking something I found.  He had however had to
do something similar in Hollingswood so deferred to my better judgement.

Giving in to the temptation,
I called him, “Hello, Harper.”

“How's it going, Spencer?”

“As well as you can
imagine.  We’re no closer to finding this bastard and the press is all over
this case, which in turn means that every single superior officer is looking at
everything we do and then giving their two pence worth of thought.  Hell, we’ve
even got the Prime Minister himself saying how terrible it is.”

“Not the best of situations
I guess,” I managed to say, shrugging, “Has there been any developments though?
Any leads to help you out?”

“You mean what information
has come about from the gun, so as to help you?”

He couldn’t see me but I’m
sure he knew I was shrugging, “Something along those lines.  Helping me helps
you, Spencer.”

“I know you’re right, it
just pains me to admit it.  The gun had nothing on it, no fibres or
fingerprints but we’ve got it down as definitely being the murder weapon in the
couple’s shooting.”

“It’s a start then.  Do you
have any records of it?”

“Yes, not that it does us
that much good.  You were right about it being an ex-service weapon, something
from the war.  Unfortunately the records from back then aren’t complete so we
can’t track it down to the original owner, other than to say it has popped up
recently,” Spencer stopped for a second and I could hear the rustling of papers
on the other end of the phone line, “We’ve got a ballistics match here for it
being used in a couple of other offences a while ago.  The most recent one was
nearly ten years back; a post office clerk took a shot to the chest in an armed
raid.  He survived but the gang got away.”

“That’s a shame, the getting
away part not the clerk surviving.”

“Well there’s actually some
good news on the gang front, the raid was one we have managed to attribute to a
certain group of men out of the Elsworth Warriors a few of years ago.  They
were on the periphery of the gang but acted as muscle and enforcers.  The four
men did a number of raids, even got hired out for a couple around the country
when the heat was on them up here.  Took us a couple of years but they finally
went down; two of them wound up getting shot dead in a bit of a turf war with
another gang.  The other two both ended up getting nicked on different
charges.”

“So you’re working on the
theory that they sold the guns on,” I said.  My thoughts on the way the guns
and victims surrounded Elsworth.  I was certain that there was more to this
than gang warfare but the evidence kept my investigation close to that theory.

“Happens all the time,
moving on weapons with a history.  In fact one of the men in that armed gang is
serving his time due to selling guns.  When they raided his house, they found
over forty different firearms and an assortment of knives that would put a five
star restaurant to shame.”

I stood up and ran my hand
through my hair, “Looks like you’ve got a good lead right there.”

“I’ve been given the
opportunity to go speak to him tomorrow, since we only got the lab work back
late.  Speaking of that, your bullets didn’t show up on anything we have.”

Throwing down my free hand
in frustration, I sat back on the bed, “It’s ok,” rubbing my eyes I continued,
“Spencer, if you would be so kind as to keep me informed as to what you learn
from this prisoner, I’m sure it would be of help.”

“How goes your
investigation?” there was a tone in his voice that suggested more than he was
letting on.

I had an inkling as to what
his smugness was about and I wasn’t in the mood to play around, “Well it would
be easier if people would trust me.  I mean, having a police tail for the day
wasn’t the best way of garnering support from Saul.”

Spencer let out a short laugh,
“You’re not saying you saw them?”

I smiled, “Maybe I did,
maybe I didn’t, but Saul sure as hell felt their presence.  I take it they knew
where he was going?”

“The drugs unit think that
he is involved in all of this.  Having him in the country whilst all this is
going on has convinced them that he is pulling the strings.  They wanted to
come down hard on him but they couldn’t convince the top brass he was behind
the shootings.  The last thing they want to do is arrest someone without the
evidence and Saul is the sort of guy that would happily smile as he sued the
arse off us for wrongful arrest.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling
that he would definitely use the system to his own ends.”

“So are you going to tell me
about it then or has the life of a private eye corrupted you enough to
fraternise with known criminals?”

Grinning, I looked at my reflection in
the mirror, “Some would say that I fraternised with them before I even left the
force.  I would also say that corrupting me was impossible since I was already
corrupted.  My meeting was illuminating.  Saul seems to think that I can help
him and he has made his men pledge their support to that cause.  Some are
reluctant but I think that the threat to their own lives is enough to convince
them into listening to me.”

“Are they circling the wagons already?”

“Not yet.  I’ve just got the feeling
that this is about to turn into something a lot more dangerous.”

“If you’re right, then having Big Saul
in the country means there will be much more bloodshed.  His reputation is for
one of cleaning house.  The longer this madman is free to attack at whim, the
greater the chance that other innocents will be caught in the crossfire.”

I nodded, “You’re right.  Having him in
the country is dangerous.  It’s dangerous for him as well,” I said as a thought
crossed my mind and I mentally cursed myself for not realising it sooner,
“Spencer, I think I know the next target for our shooter.”

It was as if I could hear the man sit
upright in his chair at my words, “Where?” he asked with a mix of excitement
and incredulousness in his voice.

“When I tell you, you’re not going to
like it, especially when I say that I should and can be the only one to try and
stop him.  If we send the boys in blue to protect him then everything I’ve
worked towards is gone and things could escalate even further.”

“Get to it, man!” Spencer ordered

“He’s going to attack Big Saul himself
and I’m the only man who can save him.”