The Wild Heart (18 page)

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Authors: David Menon

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BOOK: The Wild Heart
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     ‘ So what now?’ Mark asked as they looked round.

     ‘ He must be able to see us’ said Ian. He felt like they were an exposed target and he didn’t like it one little bit. ‘ He’ll call’.

     They could both feel the tension. Mark could feel the sweat on the palms of his hands but the adrenalin was flowing through every fibre of him. It was so bloody quiet. All he could hear was the distant rumble of traffic heading up Bury New Road a couple of blocks away. The mill was long past its heyday. Most of the windows were broken and any fertile ground around it was overgrown with
weeds. Mark noticed from the sign outside that it had been bought by a company of urban developers so it wouldn’t stay this way for long.

     ‘ Let’s see if there’s a way in’ said Mark.

     They were looking up at the side of the mill and walked up to the left but as soon as they turned the corner they froze. Mark’s car was parked a few metres in front of them. Graham was handcuffed to the steering wheel and his mouth was covered in thick tape. He was struggling to break free and when he saw Ian his eyes widened with desperate appeal but Ian didn’t have time to even try to go to his aid.

     The force of the explosion knocked them both to the ground and they wrapped their arms round their heads to protect themselves.

     ‘ Are you alright, Mark?’

     ‘ Yes, I’m okay’ Mark answered. They were both shielding their eyes from the brightness of the blaze and squinting when they looked up..

     ‘ It must’ve been under the car’ said Mark. ‘ I take it that was Graham?’

     ‘ Yes’ said Ian, his voice full of anger. ‘ It was Graham’.

     Ian’s phone rang again.

     ‘ Judas … ‘

     ‘ … you murdering fucking scumbag, Campbell!’ Ian roared. He looked all around them but couldn’t see anything.’ Where are you?’ he demanded. ‘ Come out here and face me you fucking coward!’

     ‘ The noose is getting tighter, Judas, and one day your neck is going to snap’.

 

     They ran back to the flat as fast as they could. They knew Campbell had to have been close but they didn’t know how close or if he planned to spring another surprise on them that night. They could count on nothing except their own wits.

     Mark splashed some water on his face. He could hear Ian arguing on his mobile. He came out of the bathroom to find Ian checking all the locks on the door. He looked at Mark and his face just crumbled. He fell back against the wall, slid down onto the floor and began to weep. Mark knelt down and held him as tightly as he could but it wasn’t enough to stop his body from rocking with all the emotion. He lifted Ian’s face up in his hands.

     ‘ Ian, listen to me, listen … ‘

     Ian did everything to avoid Mark’s eyes.

     ‘ Ian, look at me! … come on now … it wasn’t your fault’  

     ‘ I asked him to stay’ mouthed Ian feebly.

     ‘ You didn’t know it was going to turn out the way it did’.

     ‘ Nobody is safe around me’ Ian went on. ‘ I’m begging you, Mark’ he pleaded, tugging at Mark’s shirt and losing control again. ‘ Get yourself away from me for God’s sake!’

     ‘ Ian, you can’t lose it on me now’ said Mark. ‘ Campbell is still out there and now it really is personal. I saw the look on Graham’s face and we’ll get Campbell. One way or another we will get him’.

 

     DCI Jimmy Kent pondered the scene in front of him. The body had been taken away and they were still waiting for formal identification but it seemed certain that it was Shaun Campbell. Jimmy was standing in the bedroom where Campbell’s body had been found. The blaze hadn’t taken
sufficient enough hold for it to do untold damage to the structure of the flat but it had certainly made a hell of a mess. Most of the furniture in all the rooms had been lost and there wasn’t enough left of any of the doors for them to fulfil their purpose. All the carpets had gone up and the curtains were now nothing more than rags hanging over dusty windows.

     ‘ Who called the fire brigade?’ Jimmy asked.

     ‘ A man who was passing by walking his dog, Sir’ answered DC McAllister. ‘ He lives round the corner on the new estate’.

     ‘ They cost a pretty penny those houses’ said Jimmy, peering out of the window at the cluster of what are called executive style homes.

     ‘ Tell me about it’ said Pam McAllister. ‘ We live in one just like that’.

     ‘ Ah but your husband’s a lawyer’ said Jimmy ‘ You can afford a couple of those’.

     Pam scoffed. ‘ I wish. My Declan has got too much of a conscience so he has. He does too much legal aid work to keep me in the style to which I’d like to become accustomed’. She was well used to all the jibes she got about her husband’s profession. Police officers have a general disrespect for lawyers but she of course would argue that her Declan was a different kettle of fish altogether from those who seemed to get in the way of good police work. She was actually quite proud of him.

     ‘ Do we know yet what’s happened to Natalie Patterson?’

     ‘ We’ve asked everyone else in the block, Sir, and a lot of them had already left for work at that time. Those that were here remember hearing shouting and scuffling just after half past eight and that Miss Patterson seemed to be in some sort of distress’.

     ‘ But nobody came to see what was going on?’

     ‘ Not even when they thought she was trying to get out but was being prevented from doing so’.

     ‘ They weren’t going to interfere in any domestic happening in Shaun Campbell’s place’.

     ‘ Exactly, Sir. None of them would’ve risked it’.

     ‘ So what do you think, Pam? What are your instincts telling you?’

     ‘ Well we may be looking at the result of some form of domestic violence. It seems Shaun was prone to hitting Natalie, punching her even, when she wouldn’t do what he says. Sir, nobody saw anyone entering the building before whatever took place did. He could’ve hit her, she hit him back a bit too hard, he ends up dead and she panics … ‘

     She was interrupted by a call on her mobile.

     ‘ … that was the lab, Sir. It’s a definite. The body is that of Shaun Campbell but the interesting thing is that he was stabbed before he was burned’.

     ‘ Stabbed?’

     ‘ Yes, Sir, right in the neck and more than once. Whoever did it must’ve been really pissed off with him’.

     ‘ And then they covered him with fuel and set him alight which makes your theory look more than possible, Pat’.

     ‘ Or it could be a case of one of Campbell’s business rivals getting to him and Natalie Patterson either ran for her life or has been taken by them’.

     ‘ Right’ said Jimmy, thoughtfully. ‘ Well look, let’s get back to the station, Pam. We’ve got a few things to check out’.

     When they got back to the station Jimmy was called in to see the superintendent. They were being pushed to the margins of the investigation by officers from special branch and the intelligence services in light of the fact that DI Graham Armstrong, who was on personal business, had been blown up in a car bomb in Manchester and the prime suspect for having carried out the attack was Derek Campbell. 

 

     Freddie Burnside was getting ready to go to Manchester. Derek’s wife had been in too much of an alcoholic state to tell her husband that their son was dead and, knowing the effect it would have on Derek, Freddie had decided to go over and tell him in person rather than on the phone. He was just fastening his suitcase shut when his wife Sheila came upstairs and said he had a visitor.

     ‘ Who is it?’ Freddie asked.

     Sheila pursed her lips. ‘ Angela Patterson’.

     ‘ What does she want?’

     ‘ How the hell would I know? But get rid of her quick, Freddie. I can’t stand the snotty cow and I don’t want her in my house any longer than necessary’.

     Freddie had met Angela Patterson many times but he couldn’t say that he knew her. He knew that she and her family had been the financial backing to the Ulster Defenders and that she was now behind Peter Irvine’s breakaway campaign from the UDP. He went downstairs where Angela was waiting in the living room. She’d declined Sheila’s offer of a cup of tea and was standing in the middle of the room looking as if she wondered what in the world she was doing there.

     ‘ What can I do for you, Angela?’ asked Derek.

     ‘ I want you to cancel your plans to go over to Manchester’ she said, simply.

     ‘ Why would I want to do that?’

     ‘ Because I’m going to offer you a considerable sum of money’.

     ‘ Angela, Shaun is dead. Derek has a right to know’.

     ‘ Not until he’s completed the mission he’s been given’ said Angela ‘ He’s already going outside his remit by all these antics with that DI, Graham Armstrong, and I don’t want his attentions diverted by anything else’.

     ‘ His son is dead for God’s sake!’

     ‘ I said I was going to offer you a considerable sum of money, Freddie’ said Angela, keeping as cool as anything. ‘ Now will five thousand do it?’

     ‘ You know a man like me could never turn down money like that’ said Freddie, frustrated at the way he’d been cornered. ‘ I’ve never even seen a thousand in my whole life’.

     ‘ So you’ll take it then?’

     ‘ Yes, I’ll take it’.

     ‘ Good. I’m glad you’ve decided to be sensible’.

     Angela took a brown envelope out of her handbag and handed it to Freddie.

     ‘ You can count it if you like’ said Angela ‘ There’s five thousand there in used bank notes. Nothing will be traceable’.

     ‘ You won’t be able to keep it from Derek forever. It’ll be all over the papers’.

     ‘ The police have imposed a seven day ban on reporting the incident. They wouldn’t be aware of the positive consequences that has for us’.

     ‘ Where’s Natalie, Angela? Do you not want Derek to know about Shaun so you can protect her in some way?’

     Angela threw her head back and laughed. ‘ Protect that little bitch? She’s the one who killed Shaun. She came to my house and confessed’.

     ‘ So you’re prepared to shop your own daughter?’

     ‘ Natalie is the daughter of a Judas, Freddie. I washed my hands of her long ago’.

     ‘ What? You mean …‘

     ‘ … yes, that’s right. You know that I was seeing Duncan Laurence before he turned into an informer. Natalie is his daughter’.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Angela Patterson didn’t sleep with Peter Irvine for the sex which was very much less than ordinary. Once he got in there it didn’t last long before it was all over and he didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word foreplay. She slept with him in order to use it as an opportunity to remind him who was boss. Men like Peter will do anything you say if you let them between your legs and it was a shame that her daughter hadn’t learned to use this knowledge to her own advantage. She really did pity her for that.

     She got out of bed and had a shower. After she’d dried herself off she wrapped a towel round her and went back into the bedroom. Peter was sitting up in bed smoking a cigarette. She looked at him and didn’t know how she could have possibly done it. She didn’t remotely fancy him and had struggled even to fake it.

     ‘ What’s wrong?’ she asked, referring to the look on his face. She was sitting at the dressing table re-applying her make-up. It was nearly eight and Peter had promised to take her out for dinner. She liked coming to his flat in London. It was where he stayed when he was at the House and it was on the border of Westminster and Victoria. She liked the area very much and there were several good restaurants around. Tonight she’d chosen a particularly expensive French one considering Peter had promised to pay.

     ‘ We shouldn’t be doing this, Angela’ he said, gravely. ‘ You’re married and so am I. When God asks us to answer for our sins what’ll we say?’

     ‘ Do you enjoy our times together?’ she asked with as much innocence as she could muster without making herself throw up. Peter was so wrapped round her little finger. Sex and a guilty conscience were the two most potent weapons in a woman’s armoury.

     ‘ Angela, I take great pleasure from them’.

     I’m sure you do, thought Angela. He had no tricks up his sleeve in the bed department. The way
he did it was probably the same as when he first got married. For her the pleasure was indeed a chore.

     ‘ Well then enough of the guilt trip’ said Angela. ‘ After all, I think the Almighty will be more interested in our other plans than the breaking of our marriage vows’.

     ‘ Angela, what we’re doing is saving our people from being bounced into a united Ireland. We’re doing it for the sake of our community. The Lord God will see our actions as being part of a just war’.

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