Authors: Simon Leigh
Four years ago, Preston had a plan. A plan to make Freddie pay for what he did to him on the night Wong was killed.
In his wheelchair behind his desk, he had his two best men lined up in front of him: Cyrus and Bill Yates.
‘There’s an alley behind the gas station opposite the hospital. A guard from the maternity ward will meet you there.’
‘For what?’ asked Bill.
‘He’ll give you a baby. Cyrus knows what to do.’
Bill looked at Cyrus. ‘What’s he talking about?’
‘We’re going to take Freddie’s children.’
‘Jesus.’
Preston smiled.
‘So why are we meeting this guard?’
‘We’re going to swap the baby with Freddie’s boy,’ said Cyrus. ‘We want Freddie to think his son is dead.’
‘What?’
‘Are you deaf?’ Preston asked.
Bill couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You’re asking us to murder a baby?’
‘You’re going to give the illusion of it. The baby the guard has died in a car accident. Cyrus has been instructed to make the place look like a murder happened, like the body was, say, smashed around.’
‘This is insane. I can’t do this.’
‘Yes you can. I’ve killed children in the past, it’s surprisingly easy. You know what I mean?’
‘What?’
‘I know why you left the force.’
‘But you’re crazy. This whole thing is crazy. I won’t do it.’
‘Don’t call me crazy. Remember what happened to Harry Trent? I can make people disappear. At least Harry had someone to live for.’ He reached into his desk and brought out some Polaroid photos, placing them next to each other on the desk. Bill looked at them one by one, horrified. They showed a lady in her mid-twenties. One showed her coming out of her house, another showed her leaving a shop and another was taken from outside her house, zoomed in on her while she put her make up on. It was Bill’s sister, Maria.
He dropped the photos and stepped back. ‘She has nothing to do with this.’
‘Do this job and nothing will happen to her, understand?’
‘I won’t do it.’
‘You’ve done it before.’
Bill remembered it vividly. ‘That was an accident.’
‘She’s very pretty, your sister.’ He picked up a photo, ripped it in half and said, ‘If you don’t do this, she won’t be so pretty anymore.’
‘Surely Freddie would know that it’s not his son.’
‘This kid is unrecognizable. My sources in the hospital will take care of the tests.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘You of all people should know how easy it is to fake evidence.’
He said nothing to that.
Cyrus interrupted, ‘You got the stuff we talked about?’
‘Take this,’ Preston said, passing a roll of duct tape and a bottle of Chloroform with a rag. ‘That will help you stop the kids screaming. I want it done by tonight while Freddie and Lucy are out.’
‘Chloroform? ‘ Bill said. ‘This could kill a child.’
‘So use a smaller dose. Just a few whiffs will do. Now go and get your head sorted. It’s going to be a long night.’
‘I should never have helped you when you came to me.’
‘Well, you did. And look where we are now. You’re doing this.’
The gas station and hospital came into view as they turned the corner. The area wasn’t busy, but it was enough to leave them feeling defenceless, Bill feeling it the most.
Killing a child, I can’t go through with it.
He pictured the raid that effectively ended his police career, and how it all went wrong. Whatever Bill was, he wasn’t a child murderer. For someone so care free, he cared more than he let on.
‘Get your fucking head together,’ said Cyrus. ‘The alley isn’t far from here.’
‘We don’t need to do this.’
‘Yes, we do.’
‘Why? This isn’t our fight.’
‘Because Preston wants it, that’s why. And it is our fight. Don’t you see? If Freddie thinks his son is dead he’ll be distraught. He ruined Preston’s life that night.’
The hospital lights were bright. Bill watched ambulances come and go. He watched smokers outside the hospital doors. Patients. Nurses. Visitors. All puffing away defeating the object, almost teasing cancer or heart disease to take them.
‘What will happen to his son?’ he asked.
‘The son will live happily with a family.’
Bill shook his head. ‘I just don’t get it.’
‘The boy will be leverage for when Preston is powerful enough to take on Matherson properly. It will take time, but when that time comes,’ he smiled, ‘Freddie will do anything to get his son back. Even kill the old man.’
‘Preston has other men. They can do it.’
‘You can tell him that then and I’ll tell your sister when I’m fucking her,’ he said, smiling again. ‘I’m sure she’d like that. I bet she squeals like a pig.’
Bill’s blood boiled. He felt like grabbing the wheel and smashing the car into a wall. ‘You won’t get near her.’
‘I will if you don’t do this with me. Now stop being a pussy. We’re here.’
They stopped at the alley’s entrance between two buildings and out of sight. Bill looked deep into the pitch black shadows with the street lights glaring around him.
They stepped out.
The darkness of the shadows eased as they left the lights behind them, Bill’s anxiousness growing the deeper they went, knowing what awaited them: a true terror hidden in the gloom. He wanted the alley to go on forever before inevitably ending where he’d be presented with the task he dreaded. He started sweating.
Cyrus was calm like he was out for an evening stroll.
Getting deeper, Bill figured the guard would be waiting just around the corner, and he was right. They found him pacing with the baby in his arms. The road was a hundred feet away in each direction, giving them the privacy they needed.
The guard was still in uniform, trembling like a drug addict waiting for his fix. ‘It’s about time you guys showed up,’ he said. ‘I’m taking a big risk with you. Preston better pay well.’
‘He will. Now hand it over,’ Cyrus ordered.
‘I want to see some green.’
‘You can’t see anything in this light, let alone green.’ Grabbing Bill, he pulled him closer and said to the guard, ‘Give the baby to my colleague here. Then we can talk about money.’
He was hesitant.
Bill took it from him, immediately hating it, feeling like a murderer himself.
‘Good,’ said Cyrus, bringing out a roll of money and passing it the guard. ‘We done here? Come on Bill.’
The guard looked at the roll of cash and pulled Cyrus back. ‘This isn’t nearly enough. Where’s the rest?’
‘It’s all there.’
‘I know this ain’t what was promised. You think I’m stupid or something? All it takes is one loud shout and the echo will carry to the hospital. Give me the rest.’
Bill knew what was coming as soon as Cyrus’s jacket was grabbed, so he left them, quickly walking back to the car. But he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the sound of a man choking and the moist, skin piercing slash of a knife. It turned his stomach. Another needless death on the road for vengeance.
He got in the car, carefully placing the body in the passenger seat and starting the engine.
I could leave right now.
Putting the car into gear, the back door opened and Cyrus jumped in with his shirt and jacket covered in blood.
‘Don’t even think about it, pussy.’ He looked at his watch. ‘They should be out soon. Let’s go.’
The street was bright against the half-moon letting out a steady glow across the filtered night air. The neighbourhood was almost quiet with just a hint of rustle coming from the trees.
The calm before the storm
In a darkened part of People’s Park where the street lights failed to reach, Bill watched Freddie’s home with Cyrus beside him, itching to get inside. They waited for Freddie and Lucy to say goodbye to the sitter and leave in a taxi before making a move. Not right away, that would be stupid. They waited ten minutes to see if they’d return before making a move.
‘What do we do about the babysitter?’ Bill asked.
Cyrus smiled. ‘Leave her to me.’
Bill shook his head at him and watched Cyrus divert his evil and excited gaze towards at the house, almost licking his lips with anticipation of what pleasures lay ahead while holding the baby, still wrapped up in the towel.
They crossed the street.
At the front door, Bill looked around anxiously as the sound of laughter came from inside.
Cyrus said, ‘You go around the back.’
With another shake of the head, Bill did as he was told.
At the rear of the house, he found the exit from the kitchen and waited for Cyrus to do his thing.
The knock at the front door was loud enough to catch his ears and he felt sick over the role he’d played in this whole affair.
Just the children. Leave the sitter.
One murder is enough. But then came the sound he dreaded to hear: a young woman’s sharp, sudden scream before falling silent.
Closing his eyes, Bill prayed for her.
He needed to see what Cyrus was up to before things went too far out of hand. The door to the kitchen was locked, so he walked to the front of the house, finding Cyrus standing over the sitter with the baby’s body in his arms.
Bill closed the front door.
Thankfully for them, the children were nowhere to be seen, but the sitter was unconscious with a bloody nose and her clothes had ridden up her torso showing her flat stomach. Bill knew what Cyrus’s twisted mind he was thinking.
He bent down, covering her stomach with her clothes. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he asked, looking up. ‘Isn’t this hard enough?’
Cyrus had no reaction. No smile. No frown. Nothing. He just walked by Bill and up the stairs.
Bill watched him leave and entered the living room where he thought the children might be playing. Michael was the only one in there. Bill took out the chloroform.
A cry came from upstairs.
Shit.
Bill sprinted up the stairs to find Chloe on the floor in the hallway. Cyrus was in the bedroom with the door closed turning the place into a murder scene.
I can’t do this.
Bill put the chloroform down, lifted Chloe gently and looked at her innocent face.
How can anyone do this to you two?
The door to the master bedroom was open showing toys on the floor.
He put Chloe on the bed and headed back to the kids’ room.
Cyrus walked out covered in blood. ‘It’s done,’ he said. ‘You want to take a look?’
Bill began to shake. Something was wrong. He was having a panic attack. His whole body tingled and his heart was racing.
He ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Children’s towels and colourful soap littered the shelves, reminding him even more of the horrors he was now a part of. The room had been painted a sky blue colour, supposedly to make the room feel bigger. But Bill felt the walls closing in on him. He was trapped. He closed his eyes, drawing in deep breaths. They didn’t work. He ran the tap and rubbed cold water in his face. That didn’t work either. His body felt like nothing he’d ever experienced. He could feel something inside him, something on its way up. He lifted the toilet seat and threw up into the pan. His blood was on fire, circulating his body uncontrollably. In a mirror above the sink he saw a murderer looking back at him. He began to cry, gently at first, and then uncontrollably, tears pouring from his eyes and splashing into the sink. He put his hands on his face.
What have I done?
He was so disgusted with himself that he couldn’t look at his reflection. But he realized the job wasn’t over yet, they still had to take the children.
Taking in another deep breath, he opened the door and walked back to the bedroom.
‘You feel a little sick there Bill?’ Cyrus asked with a smile while tapping his feet impatiently in the hallway.
He ignored him and walked up to Chloe, who was crying.
Looking down at her, Bill was unaware of Cyrus holding the bottle of chloroform and rag.
Before he knew it, he was out cold.
Bill woke to find himself on the sofa staring up at the white ceiling.
That son of a bitch.
It took him a moment to focus before sitting up on the edge if the sofa.
Screaming bellowed from above.
Shit no.
He stood up quickly, too quickly in fact. The room was spinning around him and he stumbled into the living room door before regaining his balance and making his way back up the stairs.