Dave picked it up. He tried to push it but it wouldn’t move.
‘How do you move this thing?’ he said.
‘There’s a button to turn it to manual,’ said Betty. ‘Somewhere on the side.’
Dave found it. He rushed the wheelchair over to Betty and helped her sit in it. She leaned back.
‘Still got my cushion,’ she said.
Her eyes grew heavy.
‘No need to fight tiredness now, Betty,’ said Dave. ‘I’ll get you out of here.’
Betty’s eyes closed. Dave was glad she breathed so loudly. At least he knew she was alive.
‘Stephen?’ he called.
There was no answer.
He began feeling around the garage for Stephen. As he stumbled around the back, he found two bodies. He checked them. They were cold and long dead. A man and a woman. Both Betty’s age.
It came back to him. The investigation. Shirley found the killer on the CCTV. They were going to find the white van. But the car wasn’t a white van. He went towards it. It was a car, he knew that. Perhaps Stephen was inside. When he got closer, he saw it was a sports car. It was locked.
‘Stephen,’ he called. He knocked on the window. He peered inside. He couldn’t see anyone.
‘Stephen,’ he called.
‘You’ve got to get her out, now,’ said Stephen.
Where was his voice coming from? He looked up at the ceiling but it couldn’t be there. Stephen was right. There was no time to waste. Dave went back to Betty. He pushed the wheelchair along the side of the car, towards the door. If he could just open the door, he could find someone, get them to call into the station. They needed to get out before Richie came back.
Dave rested the wheelchair just by the door so that when he opened it they could escape together. He went towards the side, to see how the shutters open. As he struggled in the dim light, he heard a car arrive.
I pull up the door of the garage. I see something. The wheelchair. I didn’t leave it there. I move closer. There’s the dead woman sitting up as if nothing had happened. Her face looks battered and purple. She looks like she’s dead. This is something from a horror film. She’s a zombie coming towards me. I drop the chips. They fall and my goddam chips are everywhere. This is that shitting old woman’s fault. I’m going to finish her off. I pick up my hammer.
She looks horrified. Her mouth is open. She’s got nasty old teeth. I’m going to knock them out first.
Then she screams.
‘He’s got a hammer!’ she says.
‘No one can hear you,’ I say.
She looks behind me. I look round. Behind me are the chips. I’m annoyed about that.
‘I can’t have my fucking dinner now,’ I say.
I’m not going back there. It would seem too strange.
I walk slowly towards the wheelchair. How the hell did she get back in there? The shitting policeman must have done it. Where is he?
‘Policeman! Where are you?’ I call.
I’m not too loud. We’re outside now. Anyone could come down here.
‘Has he gone for help?’ I ask. ‘Has he gone and left you all alone?’
‘Yes,’ she says.
She looks scared. She’s lying. The shitting old bitch is lying. Right, so he’s here. I turn round in a circle looking for him. Bad move. He comes from behind me. Throws all his weight on me and I go flying. I’ve fallen into my chips. I’ve squashed my fish. Fucking fish and chips all over me. I smell the vinegar. But I’ve still got my hammer.
I turn and swing the hammer. It hits his leg, hard. He cries out.
‘You’re under arrest,’ he says.
Now I’m cracking up laughing. Here’s me with a fucking hammer and he’s trying to arrest me. He’s limping away. Dickhead doesn’t know what he’s doing. Where’s he going? While he’s limping off I’m going to kill the old lady. I get up, shake off the chips. I take my hammer and run to the woman.
The policeman’s running now, or trying to. I can hear him. He’ll get another hammer in the head. I’ll finish the old woman first though. She looks nice and terrified. That’s good. It’ll be a painful death for her. That’s what she needs. I pick up the hammer, way above my head, I’m ready to finish her off.
The policeman grabs my hand. He’s trying to take my hammer. He won’t get it. I hold on fast. I grip the wooden handle, who cares about splinters, I’m going to kill them both.
The policeman grabs my neck. It fucking hurts. He’s going to break my fucking neck.
‘You can’t kill me,’ I say. ‘Don’t kill me.’
‘Let go of the hammer,’ he says.
I’ve got no choice. It’s life or death. I let go of the hammer. He grabs it. He’s going to kill me anyway. He swings the hammer right at me. I put up my arms. I hide my face. He hits me but I’ve protected my head. It still hurts. That hammer really hurts. My arm is killing. I need to get up. I need to fight him.
He’s got the old woman. He’s taking her to the hire car. Shit, I dropped the keys. I dropped the keys with the chips. He’s got them. He won’t get the wheelchair in there. I had to tip the other old woman out of hers. He’s lifting her out. He’s putting her in the passenger seat. I get up. I’m hurting. I’m staggering like one of them old biddies. He waves the hammer at me. He’s going to hit me again. I fall to the ground. I cover my head. He’s running round to the driver’s seat. This is my chance. I get up. I walk towards the passenger door. I’ll drag her out. I’ll at least get her.
I hear the engine. I hear the car. He’s coming towards me. He’s going to run me over. I run. I run to the garage. I run inside and hide. I hear the car drive off.
This is a bad situation. The police will be looking for me. They’ll be here in minutes. I jump in the sports car. No time to hide the bodies. I’m going to chase him. I’ll find the hire car. I’ll crash him. It’s my only chance.
It’s fast. The car is fast. I rev it up and set off. I drive down to the main street. He has to be here. The traffic is busy. He had to have gone this way. I’m too late. I’m too pissing late. Now the government will know that I know. She’ll tell them. The shitting old biddy will tell everyone that I’m here. Now I’m on the run. The only good thing is that they don’t know about the warehouse. Except I bought it with the same credit card. Shit. The same credit card as I got the warehouse from. I’m an idiot. A stupid idiot. How I thought I could out run the conspiracy I don’t know. It’s been going on for so long. I thought I’d got it right. I made a big mistake not killing the policeman. Just because you’re young, it doesn’t make you innocent. I bash the steering wheel. I’m scared. They’ll make me go mad just like Mum. They’ll make me kill myself.
Then I hear a siren whirling behind me. They are onto me. I stop the car and get out. I start running through estates. It won’t be long. The police are everywhere in this area. I need a car. I’d kill for a car. Old or young, doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone is against me. I’ll kill everyone I see.
I look at the cars parked along the roadside. There’s often people in them. I need one with keys. I haven’t kept up my car theft skills. I walk along, looking. There’s one.
There’s a woman in the passenger seat. There’s children in the back. I knock on the window and see her jump. She’s scared. I haven’t got time to negotiate. I get a brick from a garden. I smash the window.
‘Give me the keys,’ I say.
‘OK,’ she says.
They are in her hand. She hands them to me. She tries to get out.
‘You’re not going anywhere,’ I say.
‘Kids,’ she says. ‘Get out, get out.’
The door opens and the children get out. I put the key in the ignition. I turn it and it rumbles into life. The passenger door is open, she is trying to escape. I lean over her. I shut the door.
‘Do what I say,’ I say.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ she says.
I don’t say anything. What is there to say? We’re going to my warehouse, quick as. I’ll kill the old people, kill her. Then I’m off to a new venue. Don’t know where, don’t know how. This is serious. I need to drop everything and run.
I’m driving and keeping an eye on the woman. She gets her phone out. Think I wouldn’t notice that?
‘Put the phone down,’ I say.
She’s dialling 999.
‘Throw the phone out of the window or I crash us both, right now.’
I mean it as well. She throws the phone. She knows I mean business.
‘Please, just let me go,’ she says.
‘Can’t I’m afraid. I’ve crossed the line. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to kill you.’
She’s crying.
‘My children,’ she says.
‘They’ll be fine without a mother,’ I say.
I don’t know if that’s true. Perhaps I should let her go. She’s got kids. She’s a mother like my mother.
I’m doing good so far. There are police cars on the opposite side, heading to where I was. This is great. They don’t expect me in this car. I’m just driving, head down. No one will notice me. They’ll think I’m with my wife, going out to the supermarket for our shopping.
I’m nearing the warehouse now. I’m pretty worried. The police could be there. I don’t know how long until they turn up. I’ve got to move fast.
I drive the car right up. There’s no sign of cars, no sign of helicopters. I think I’m safe.
‘Get out of the car,’ I say to the woman.
She tries to run. I’m faster. She’s a fat cow. She’d never get far. She’d have a heart attack. I catch up with her. I pull her hands behind her back. I march her into the warehouse.
I haven’t got my tools. The whole point of going to the lock up. If only I’d bought some more. If I’d done that instead of going to the lock up I’d have been fine. I’m a dickhead.
I stick the woman in the cage and lock it.
She cries out.
‘What’s the matter?’ I say. ‘Don’t like your new home?’
I can see now. The old man is dead. He’s laid out, eyes closed, arms crossed. The woman’s done it. She’s cradling his head.
‘One down, two to go,’ I say.
The old lady screams at me.
‘You’re evil. You let my husband die. How could you do this? What do you want now with this young woman?’
I smile politely.
‘If you hadn’t killed my mother, I would not be doing this. This mother will die because of your actions. It’s your fault.’
The mother looks at the old lady. The old lady shakes her head as if I’m cuckoo or something.
I need some tools. I need a car. I need new credit cards. I need to get out of here.
Shirley couldn’t face the station any more. She hadn’t told them. She didn’t care. Dave was gone. They hadn’t found his killer. They were not a good police force. She didn’t want to be part of it any more. She went to Soho instead.
In Soho, it seemed like everyone was drunk. It was daytime but there was a busy feel. People spilled out of bars, walking unsteadily. Shirley thought it must be the weekend. It had been so long since she had a day off, she had no idea what the day was. She wandered up to Soho Square and sat down. She could smell ganja. She was on duty. She should be in work. She felt the police badge on the inside of her pocket and wondered if arresting someone would make her feel better. It wouldn’t. Nothing would bring Dave back. Getting drunk was the only answer.
Shirley got up, and her seat was taken by some tourists. She walked heavily. She wondered if she looked like a police officer. She swung her shoulders and swaggered like Geoff had done. She could do manly. She liked doing manly. She avoided being searched at the door by showing her police badge. The bouncers looked concerned.
‘Has there been an incident?’ one of them asked.
‘Just having a quick look,’ she said.
She bounced past them and up to the top bar.
‘Ah, what shall I have?’ she asked the barman.
‘Cocktails are on happy hour,’ he said.
‘Fabulous,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a mojito.’
She took her drink and went to sit in a good place to people watch. She could feel her phone vibrating. She took a sip of her mojito. There went the job she worked her arse off to get. There went the salary, the pension, all rubbish anyway. She wondered what she’d do next. She would probably do security, be a bouncer in a club with hot girls. She smiled to herself. As she did, the bouncer from outside came up the stairs. She wanted to hide.
‘Just having a look?’ he said. ‘Hope you’re not on duty.’
‘Having a look at the girls, aren’t I. Whilst keeping an eye out for your sakes of course.’
He winked at her.
She’d covered her back. She shouldn’t be impersonating a police officer. They would have sacked her by now.
At the bar stood a great looking woman. She sucked the life out of her mojito and went up for more.
She smiled her sweetest smile. The woman smiled back a little nervously.
‘I’ll bet you’re here for happy hour,’ said Shirley.
‘Yeah,’ said the woman.
‘What cocktail do you recommend? My glass is empty.’
‘Dunno, I’m having an Iced Tea.’
‘No, no. Long Island Ice Tea is too strong,’ said Shirley. ‘No, go for the mojito. Now our barman is a good man and he pours a good mojito. I promise you’ll enjoy it.’
‘OK,’ she said, blushing.
‘Now I’d buy it for you but we’ve just met and I don’t want to give you ideas.’
The woman giggled.
Shirley thought she might be in luck. She heard her phone vibrate again.
‘Your phone,’ said the woman.
‘I know. I’ll get it later,’ she said.
The woman looked at the floor, uncertain.
Shirley thought she’d better at least pretend to look, in case she thought she was avoiding a girlfriend or wife.
‘Work,’ she said as she took out the phone. She glanced at it. She looked again.
‘No way,’ she said. ‘No way.’
Across her screen was a text from Geoff.
‘Look at this!’ she said to the woman.
The woman smiled and glanced over.
‘Who is Dave?’ she said.
‘Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. He’s alive. Look, it says ‘Dave alive’ so that means, if I’m not completely bonkers, that Dave is alive.’
‘Who is Dave?’
‘My boss. My wonderful boss. Hey, nice meeting you. I’ve got to go make a call.’
Shirley ran down the stairs and out of the bar. She called the station from the street.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘You’re in trouble. Chief’s not happy with you.’
‘Dave though. Geoff said he’s alive.’
‘Just,’ said the officer.
‘What do you mean? Where is he?’ said Shirley. ‘I’m coming in. I’ll be there in 30.’
She flagged down a taxi.
‘Police,’ she said.
‘Wherever you want to go,’ he said.
She jumped in. They set off south to the river.
Her phone rang. She answered.
‘You’re answering your phone,’ said the Chief.
Shirley’s stomach fell. Her mind flitted through excuses and found none.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Sorry? Sober up Sergeant, and come in. It’s all hands on deck. We will look into this matter when the case is closed. As I said before, we are under scrutiny.’
‘Yes sir. Thank you,’ she said.
She put the phone down and leaned her head back.
Shirley spoke to the taxi driver and gave directions to her flat. She leaned back and fell asleep. When she awoke she was outside her block.
She paid the taxi driver and went in. She nodded hello to a few neighbours as she went up the three flights of stairs to her flat. She got to the door and unlocked it. It smelt of bins. She hadn’t been here for days. She wandered down the hallway and checked every room. She noticed dust, a cobweb. She called Geoff as she got out her duster.
‘Where’s Dave?’ she asked.
‘In St George’s Hospital.’
‘What condition is he in?’
‘I’ve not seen him but they say he’s got a massive wound from the hammer and a bruise spreading right across his face. It’s amazing he got out of there.’
‘Do we know how he did?’
‘Well, we think he’s concussed. He seems very confused. The woman he escaped with seems in a better condition, mentally anyway.’
‘Shit. He’s going to be alright though, yeah?’
‘The hospital haven’t said.’
‘I’m going down there.’
‘He might not even recognise you at the moment.’
That put Shirley on a downer. She downed some water and some coffee. She’d better not drive yet. She ordered a taxi to the hospital and took the bin out on the way down.
At the hospital she showed her police badge and found Dave’s room. There was a police officer outside. She asked him how Dave was.
‘Not good,’ said the officer. ‘See for yourself.’
Shirley went slowly into the room. She walked over to the bed. It was good to see him.
‘I’m sorry I wrote you off,’ she said.
He turned his head towards her and she saw the bruise that spread from his temple, out over his eye, and across his nose.
‘You look great,’ she said.
‘So I’ve been told,’ he said.
‘Are you with it then? I heard you wouldn’t recognise me.’
‘You’re Daffy Duck,’ he said. ‘Sergeant supreme.’
Shirley smiled. He seemed completely himself, if a little tired.
‘So tell me about the great escape,’ she said.
‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘I feel very bad. I left Stephen behind.’
‘Stephen? Is that another victim we don’t know about?’
‘Afraid so,’ said Dave. ‘He’s been there a long time.’
‘I don’t know the details yet. Dave I went AWOL.’
‘You?’
‘Yeah, I had to grovel to get back on the case.’
‘Well, you’re entitled seeing as you’re the best sergeant they’ve got.’
‘Next time I’ll have more faith in you. I really thought you were dead.’
‘Really? Where’s your detective’s hunch?’
‘I know. I’m rubbish. I need to rely on yours, couldn’t do it without you.’
He closed his eyes, then tried to open them again.
‘I’ll let you rest,’ said Shirley. ‘No doubt you’ll be busy giving details all day tomorrow. I’ll see what I can find out about Stephen for you.’
‘My brother,’ he said.
‘I guess you got close,’ she said.
Shirley went back to the station. She felt sober enough. It was great walking in and knowing Dave would be back. She sat down at her desk and Dave’s desk didn’t loom over her now.
‘I still know nothing,’ she said to Geoff.
‘I’ll fill you in. Dave escaped from a rented garage in Norbury. Inside we found two bodies, killed with, we think, the killer’s tool set.’
‘Makes sense. The two bodies been identified?’
‘Not formally but we’re pretty certain it was Mrs Mckinckley and Mr Thompson.’
‘So how did Dave survive?’
‘He was kept alive. Seems the man only kills older people. Dave was too young to die.’
‘How strange,’ said Shirley.
‘Yeah, this guy is a psychopath without doubt.’
‘So what happened to Stephen?’
‘We don’t know who Stephen is. Dave seems to think Stephen is his brother who was captured by Richie years ago. We haven’t found trace of him.’
‘Stephen,’ said Shirley. ‘Is that Dave’s brother who died? He was talking about him.’
‘I’ll look into it,’ said Geoff.
‘Yeah,’ said Shirley.
She hoped Dave was alright. It didn’t seem possible that Stephen was alive.
‘Has Chief called Dave’s mother?’ she asked.
‘Dunno. Ask him.’
Shirley looked over at the door. She didn’t know if she could face the Chief yet. She thought about what she would say. She went over it in her head as she went over towards his office.
Before she had a chance to knock, the Chief came running out. Shirley stumbled backwards out of his way.
‘Oh, you!’ he said. ‘Come on. We’re getting a Firearms Team and we’re going to Bermondsey. It’s all hands on deck. Come with me.’
Shirley followed him down to a van and they set off.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘An officer traced the credit card from the van Dave escaped in. The same card bought a warehouse on the docks. We need to capture him before there are any other deaths.’
‘The missing elderly couple,’ said Shirley.
‘And another woman. A younger woman this time. Has no one filled you in?’
‘No, I was at the hospital. I just got here.’
‘He escaped in a car. Stolen from a mother and two children who were waiting for the husband to come back from the shops. He let the children go. We found the mother’s phone on the roadside. We knew he was in the area. We’ve got him now.’
‘He’s widened his pool,’ said Shirley.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Younger victims.’
‘It is possible that Inspector McDonald’s escape might have precipitated it. We need to catch this man. He’s beyond dangerous and our jobs are on the line.’
His job was on the line. Shirley’s could be too if she wasn’t as polite and diplomatic as could be.
‘If we want to keep our jobs,’ said Shirley, ‘Perhaps we could pour more resources in and keep one step ahead of him.’
‘I am doing everything I can, sergeant,’ said the Chief.
He scratched his head.
Shirley looked at his shaking hands. She had tried to keep an open mind about the Chief but she could see now, that he needed to retire.
‘Where do you think he will strike next, sergeant?’ said the Chief, changing the subject.
Shirley sighed.
‘He will aim mainly for elderly people though surely,’ said Shirley. ‘They are easier to kill.’
The van was travelling so fast, Shirley could only see a whirr of buildings. She couldn’t place herself. The radio went.
‘Helicopters are on site. The building is alight. Fire emergency.’
Shirley just hoped the killer was in the building.
They turned a corner and slowed. Shirley could see the warehouse burning ahead. The fire engines would not be here for a while.
‘We need to go in, sir,’ said Shirley. ‘The victims may be alive.’
The Chief nodded and ordered the Firearms Team to go in.
Shirley went up to the front. A lot of petrol had been used. She could smell it. The Chief followed her.
‘You were right,’ he said. ‘The cameras from the helicopter show two bodies moving inside. They seem to be caught inside something.’
Shirley wanted to go in. She wanted to grab a gun from the Firearms Team and shoot the killer. That was against regulations. She stood and watched as four firemen came out carrying a cage. They put it to the ground in front of her and she heard coughing.
She went closer as they cut the cage open. A younger woman crawled out and sobbed on the ground. Shirley rushed to her. She lay her on her side.
‘The man,’ she said. ‘Did he get away?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Shirley.
The woman collapsed in coughing and a paramedic came over.