I've Been Watching You: a stunning crime thriller from The North East Police Series (36 page)

‘Sorry, son, bad day to be a cop.’

Resignation passed over the cops face, and the last speck of light faded from his eyes as he slipped into oblivion.

Stan closed the door with a click, there was nothing he could do about the blood on the pavement or the car, but it was late and it was the middle of the week. All he could do was hope no one walked past.

He retrieved his bag from the garden he’d left it in and made his way round the corner to the old woman’s house. He knew the route now and went to the rear of the garden, nimbly jumping the fence. Ensuring he was hidden behind the rhododendron bush, he lit up his tablet and prepared his software.

Once he was satisfied, he made his way to the kitchen window. It was old and the putty had already been crumbling. Over the last week he had been picking at it slowly and now the window was barely held in place. It would be quick and easy to remove completely.

The alarm was motion sensitive, but the panel was in the kitchen while the motion sensors were in the hall, living room and at the top of the stairs. It wouldn’t have a chance to pick him up as he’d have it deactivated before he entered one of the hot zones.

He double-checked the video feed from the camera in the bedroom, and saw that both Ben and Jacob were sound asleep.

Anger pulsed through him as he put his tablet away. With gloved hands, he carefully pulled the window from its frame and set it down on the ground nearby. Stealthily, he climbed up and silently moved the items from the windowsill.

He stepped onto the edge of the sink and lowered himself into the kitchen. Checking his tablet again, he was confident they had heard nothing. He pulled the fascia from the alarm and worked to wire it to his tablet. The code sequencer started whizzing through numbers and within a couple of minutes the code was displayed. He held his breath as he punched in the numbers on the alarm keypad, and watched as the light turned from red to green.

Packing his tablet away, he pulled out two sets of cable ties and a hammer. He needed to incapacitate the cripple first, he wanted Jacob to live as he taught Bree her lessons, watch and see the cost of trying to steal her away. Once he’d taught her he would kill her in front of her lover. She would be easy to control too, all he would have to do is hurt the cripple on occasion and she would do anything he wanted.      Navigating the stairs with ease, he paused at the bedroom door and stood, just watching the pair sleep for a moment.
I wonder why she obeys him when she didn’t obey me. I’ll make her obey me.

He entered the bedroom and raised the hammer above his head. It crashed down onto Jacob's skull without waking him. Blood started to dribble across his face and on to the pillow. Stan grabbed his hands and secured them with cable ties. He’d get control of Ben then come back and rouse Jacob.

Silently he made his way around the bed and looked at Ben. Her red hair was spread around her head, almost like a halo but he knew she wasn’t an angel. He felt the anger ebb back to a controlled rage - it was definitely time for the lessons to begin.

20
^th
June, 0115 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

Ben lay still under the duvet, her eyes closed. She had no idea what had woken her but her senses were on overdrive. Her skin prickled with fear and she almost felt frozen to the spot. She wanted to open her eyes, she really did, but she was petrified of what she would see. She felt Jacob beside her, felt his warmth, but still she couldn’t open her eyes. It was like one of those waking dreams that people have, her mind was wide awake, screaming even, but her body wouldn’t respond.

Forcing herself, she opened her eyes.

As her vision adjusted to the darkness, she moved her eyes round the room. Jacob was facing the other way, but he seemed deep asleep, his breathing steady. She spanned the room in a few seconds and let out the breath that she hadn’t even realised she was holding.
Stupid bugger, there’s nothing there. It’s just your mind playing tricks.

Deciding now she was awake she might as well go for a wee, she stood and padded over the landing to the bathroom. Her heart was still pounding and she felt uneasy, but she pushed the feeling to one side. Plainly she’d been having a nightmare and had felt the effects when she woke up. She felt a shiver pass down her spine; it seemed chilly for the time of year. Ben flushed and pulled open the bathroom door to head back to the bedroom.

As she walked out of the room, she felt sudden certainty that she wasn’t alone. Spinning round towards the stairs, she found herself face-to-face with
him.
Fear clawed at her insides, all her training flew out of the window and she felt a whimper escape.

He was really there. He had found her and somehow gotten into her house. She backed away, a tear winding its way down her cheek.

‘Hello, Bree. I’ve been watching you.’

Finding herself at the entrance to the bedroom, she turned and ran to the bed.

‘Jacob, please, baby, wake up! He’s here, Jacob!’ her voice rose a few octaves higher as she shook his shoulders.

‘Pull the duvet down,’ said Stan from behind her, his voice completely even and calm.

Ben felt dread replace fear, albeit temporarily. She pulled the duvet down and saw the streaks of red across Jacob’s face. Panic was threatening to overwhelm her but somehow she kept a grip on reality. She placed a hand in front of his face, and felt the soft whisper of his breath on her skin.
Thank God, he’s not dead. What the fuck am I going to do?

She turned to face her nemesis, trying so hard not to show fear, but she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Her mind flashed back to the field when he’d tricked her, she recalled every little thing he’d done to her in the blink of an eye, and slowly she remembered something else.

Grace. I’m so glad she went away. She’ll never know about this.
Ben felt a sudden rush of determination.
Who the hell does this guy think he is, breaking into my house, hurting Jacob?

Stan saw the change in her. Her body language changed from terrified to more confident in the space of a few seconds. It threw him. He needed her to be afraid, she had to be afraid or she wouldn’t learn. He needed to get that back.

As he took a step towards her, he heard Jacob groan loudly.
Damn it, he was supposed to be out longer than this.

Ben half turned and touched Jacob’s face softly, and Stan took advantage of her distraction. He crossed the space to the bed in a flash and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her hard towards the door.

She couldn’t help but let out a loud scream as her hands instinctively moved to his and she grabbed them, trying not to let him pull her, but she had no choice. He had complete control of her movements and he dragged her out onto the landing. Turning suddenly, he slammed his other fist into the side of her face with such force that she saw stars instantly. Her knees gave, and he let her fall, releasing her hair. Working now, he pulled the cable ties from his pocket and secured her hands together. Then he ripped a piece of silver gaffer tape off the roll and placed it over her mouth.

Leaning down to her ear, he said, ‘don’t worry, I’ll take it off later. That pretty mouth was made to take a real man, not some cripple who didn’t even wake up when someone broke into the house.’

Stan was lucky, he didn’t know it, but usually Jacob would have woken at a mouse crossing the floor. The pain killers he’d taken earlier though were strong enough to keep him asleep.
 

Chapter Twenty-six

20
^th
June, 0120 hours – McKay residence, Sunderland

Ali had finished work hours ago, been for a run and grabbed a takeout on his way back to the flat. He now sat on the couch flicking through the channels on the TV but nothing grabbed his eye. The run and takeout food had done nothing for the gnawing stress monster in his gut, it had been growing since he’d left Clarice’s home earlier, and whatever was causing it was just on the verge of his thoughts. He knew whatever it was would be important and it had been bugging him all day that he couldn’t see it.

Flicking through the movie channels, he found a classic Stallone movie and put the remote on the table in front of him, pulling his legs up to the couch and settling his head on a cushion. He barely even saw five minutes of the movie before he was sound asleep.

He awoke some time later, disorientated and with his neck aching. Light filtered through the window from the street lights outside and somewhere in the distance a siren wailed. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Reaching for his phone he checked the time, the illuminated screen told him it was twenty to two and he groaned again.
Wish I hadn’t seen that.

He froze, contemplating his own thoughts. ‘Seen? What was seen? Clarice was seen by the killer because he had planted a bloody camera. He’s gunning for Ben. That bloody bastard, he’s watching her!’

As the last sentence escaped loudly into the silence of the flat, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his car keys. As he sped down the stairs, his phone started ringing. Hitting the right buttons on his mobile for once, he held it to his ear.

‘DI McKay, it’s Agnes Wright. You said to ring if I saw that man again. He was in their kitchen. Should I go round?’

Ali paled at her words, his feet pounding even faster. ‘No. I’m on my way. Stay inside.’

He ended the call without saying goodbye, and quickly plugged the number in for his superintendent.

20
^th
June, 0120 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

Jacob felt the pull of consciousness but tried to resist. He heard himself groan, and then felt the explosion of pain in his head.
Christ that feels like I’ve been drinking for a solid weekend.

He went to lift a hand to his head, and suddenly became fully conscious as he realised his hands were tied. He pulled himself round onto his back to check for Ben, but her side of the bed was empty.

He paled as he heard a scream from the hallway outside the bedroom.

Jacob took a breath to calm himself, and reaching past the lamp on the bedside table he grabbed his mobile phone. He lit the screen by touching the button at the bottom and scrolled to the dial pad and entered 999. He strained to listen to the call being answered, and then whispered, ‘I can’t speak louder. My name is Jacob Tulley. I work in the digital forensics lab. I am at the house of Ben Cassidy. The killer is here. You need to ring Ali McKay.’

With that he put the phone on the bed, leaving the line open.

He got to his feet and felt a wave of dizziness as his head wound protested.

Shuffling without his stick, he walked to the bedroom door.

20
^th
June, 0125 hours – O’Byrne residence, Sunderland

When he’d hit Ben she’d seen stars and fallen to her knees. Stan had taken advantage and grabbed her hands, securing them with more cable ties.
What the hell is this guys’ obsession with cable ties? Can’t he just use rope like normal nut jobs?
Ben felt a faint giggle try to escape at her thought – was there such a thing as a normal nut job?

She knew from experience it was pointless struggling against the plastic ties, without a blade they wouldn’t be stretched or loosened. She calmed her breathing, trying not to let the panic envelop her. Ben was afraid, but she found herself more afraid for Jacob than she was for herself this time round. No matter what happened, she had to survive and save him. He hadn’t asked to be a part of this messed up thing she called life. He’d come in charming her, accepting Grace and protecting her and Aoife, and hadn’t asked a thing in return. It was no wonder Ben was falling for him.

When Stan suddenly appeared before her, she stopped herself from portraying her fear.
What the hell did Ali say this guy’s name was?

‘Look, Mitchell, isn’t it? You don’t have to do this.’

Stan stilled, his face going pale. He knelt down beside her, ‘What did you call me?’

‘Mitchell. That’s your name isn’t it?’

Rage suddenly blinded him. How the hell did she know his given name? It had been so long since anyone had called him that, he’d all but forgotten it. Memories flooded his mind: his father sneering his name as he administered the latest beating, shouting it from the bottom of the stairs, and how, after he’d killed his father, he’d finally decided to change his name. His temper got the better of him, and he lost it completely, his fists flailing towards Ben’s face in repeated motions.

He didn’t even notice Jacob behind him until his tied hands appeared round his neck from behind and tightened, cutting off his air supply. He roared feebly, and pushed himself to his feet, throwing himself backwards. Jacob hit the wall behind with such force a crack appeared in the plaster covering the brickwork. He tried to keep his hands taut, but Stan swivelled and pulled himself free.

Jacob had never seen such hate in anyone before. The killer stood before him with eyes sparkling with anger. He was getting off on the violence of it all, and Jacob just managed to raise his arms in time to block the first punch from the large man. Stan’s build was stockier than his own, but Jacob had fought bigger. His military training kicked in, and he leaned on the wall whilst using his good leg to swipe Stan’s feet from under him so that he hit the deck with a curse.

Jacob didn’t want him to get back up though; pulling back he kicked Stan in the stomach with as much force as he could muster. He heard the man grunt as his breath left him.

The movement caused his bad leg to give way, and Jacob fell heavily, landing beside Stan. Jacob pulled himself to his knees, but Stan threw a punch, connecting hard with the side of Jacob’s nose which started pouring blood. While Jacob struggled to regain his feet, Stan connected another punch, and Jacob flew sideways, his head hitting the solid pine chest on the landing. Black curtains were closing in on his vision from both sides, but he knew if he passed out he and Ben would be dead. He groaned, blinking rapidly as he tried to stay conscious.