Substantial Threat (29 page)

Earlier in the afternoon, Miller had taken Crazy to visit one of his contacts in Blackpool, a guy who was a radio technician, once actually having worked for the police, but who now made his money from house alarms, person-to-person radios and other such useful items.

He had provided Miller with the footpad alarm for £100 and had also fitted a radio into Miller's car for free and one on Crazy's bike plus an earpiece in his helmet for an extra £150.

Crazy had been impressed. He folded open the paper surrounding his kebab. Miller folded a curry-coated chip into his mouth.

Donaldson, again, observed what was going on without interrupting. Henry stood back while Burrows looked at the body of Marty Cragg on the tray sticking out of the fridge.

‘Marty, oh Marty,' she said sadly.

His face was a terrible mess, blown apart, skull splintered, brains oozing out, left eye completely missing. She sighed and touched his cheek tenderly. ‘I don't know why I love you,' she said. ‘I just do, I just do.' She looked over her shoulder at Henry. ‘All Ray's bothered about is his money. He didn't care about Marty getting hurt, it didn't bother him at all. I hate him for that. His own flesh and blood – and I hate him for what he did to me.' Her shoulders shook as a sob made her convulse.

Henry did not reach out and touch her. He wanted to know what the hell she was talking about. What money? What was all this about? He clamped his teeth together, not wanting to say anything, trying to judge how best to take this forward, because he knew that if he said anything out of place, he could jeopardize the possibility of catching Ray Cragg.

‘Yeah,' he agreed, ‘flesh and blood.'

She ran her fingers down Marty's face and ice-cold neck, then touched his distorted lips with her fingertips. ‘I loved him kissing me,' she said.

Henry held back the urge to shove two fingers down his throat. The idea of Marty, dead or alive, kissing anyone repulsed him. Burrows faced him again and Henry only just about managed to get his face back into sympathetic mode. Not that easy a thing to do quickly and he thought that Burrows may actually have seen him ready to hurl.

‘You probably won't believe this,' she said, ‘but Marty was good to me. We had a great time, had fantastic plans for the future.' She could not tear her eyes away from her dead lover and she looked longingly at him again. Then she did something that almost made Henry spew for real. She kissed Marty's lips, a soft, tender brushing of mouth to mouth. She hovered over his face and said, ‘I can make you beautiful again. I'll put you back together so that no one will know how bad you've been. I'll make you look like Marty again. Handsome . . . gorgeous . . .'

And a woman beater and maybe, Henry thought, a woman killer too. Why did women like bastards like him? he wondered.

Burrows stood upright. She inhaled deeply, pulled herself together. ‘When the body is released, I want to do the work on him,' she stipulated. ‘That is a condition of me telling you everything.'

‘Fine by me,' Henry said.

‘Right, I think I want to become a protected witness now, if you don't mind.'

As far as Henry was concerned, there was no time to waste.

‘Sorry about this,' he whispered hurriedly to Donaldson, ‘but I need to get things moving here. A bit of a twist I didn't anticipate.'

‘That's okay. I'll go along for the ride at the moment.'

‘Cheers.' He punched Donaldson on the shoulder then cowered away when the big man made to return the gesture. ‘Can you take her car to police headquarters at Hutton? Do you know the way from here?'

‘I'll find it, I've visited it often enough.'

‘Good. Park it somewhere well out of sight of the road and I'll arrange to have you picked up at the sports and social club, if that's okay?'

‘Sure.'

They were standing in the car park outside the mortuary. Burrows was leaning on her car, sobbing. Henry's mind was working fast. He strode over to her, followed by Donaldson.

‘Give him your car keys,' he told her.

‘Why?'

‘Because we're going to look after it for you. For a start it's a very obvious car, turns heads, and if you get seen in it, it might turn the wrong heads.'

She delved into her shoulder bag and came out with her keys which she gave to Donaldson. He peeled the car key off the fob and gave her the remainder back. Henry pulled her away from the door to allow Donaldson space to get in. His big frame squeezed uncomfortably into the sports car and he fired it up and opened the window.

‘Got your mobile phone?'

‘Yep.'

‘Keep it on . . . I'll be in touch soon.'

Donaldson nodded, reversed and was gone. Henry quickly dialled headquarters control room from his phone and told them that Donaldson was on his way to HQ and for them to tell the security people at the gatehouse to let him in. He noticed that the battery on his phone was running low and he did not have a car charger.

‘Right, Jack, first things first. Where does Ray think you are now?'

‘At home, I suppose.'

‘Will he be trying to contact you?'

She fished her own mobile phone out of her bag and said, ‘He hasn't done yet.'

‘He doesn't know you were planning to come here?'

‘No.'

‘Right.' His mind whirred. ‘I'm going to drive you to your house now. Because of what you are going to tell me, I think there's a pretty substantial threat against you, so I want to get you to a place of safety as soon as possible tonight. I don't know just where, yet, but it probably won't be very comfortable tonight, okay?'

She nodded understandingly. Henry thought how unlike she was now from when he had first met her a few days ago, when she had been cocky and confident. Now she was low and pliant. Love, he thought. And a beating. Amazing.

‘You are going to tell me everything, aren't you?' he asked. ‘That includes about Marty, too.'

Again she nodded.

‘Okay, let's get going.'

He led her round to the passenger door of his car and seated her firmly before getting in himself. A minute later he was driving towards the motorway, trying to keep to speed limits, but finding it hard because his fast-beating heart made him want to step on the gas.

He looked at the battery meter on his phone which told him how low it was. He needed to phone someone and hoped it would not pack up, though he could have used Burrows' phone, he supposed. He dialled a number.

‘Henry? Where the hell have you been? It's bloody chaos up here,' came the panicky voice of Jane Roscoe.

‘Just listen, Jane,' he said urgently. ‘In one hour I want you to meet me at . . . er . . . let's think . . . Kirkham police station.'

‘Henry, I can't just drop everything. There's been one of our prisoners murdered at the hospital, or had you forgotten?'

‘Listen. Just meet me, okay? This is very important and I don't want to say any more over an open line.' His tone quietened her down. ‘It's very, very important.'

‘I'll be there.'

‘And bring someone along to help.'

Henry's phone bleeped a warning that the battery was now almost lifeless. ‘Bloody things,' he mumbled and slotted the phone down between his thighs. He glanced at Burrows. She was staring blankly out of the window. ‘You okay?'

‘No.'

‘We'll look after you,' he said and tried not to guffaw. ‘Now, you need to listen to me and do some thinking.' She turned to him. ‘I don't need to tell you the danger you're in, do I? We are now going to your house and what I want you to do is this: think about all the things that are valuable to you and the things you're going to need of a practical nature. When we get there, go straight in and start to pack a suitcase. Do it quickly. Take whatever things you feel you need which are emotionally valuable to you. Make sure you've also got all your bank cards, credit cards, birth certificate, passport, driver's licence, stuff like that. You can't afford to dawdle. Just get in and do it, okay?' He wanted to know that she understood his every word. ‘Things'll be fine, I promise, but we need to move fast. Don't be tempted to make any phone calls or anything.'

They hit the motorway and he upped the speed. He breathed out long and hard, feeling very excited.

They reached her house in less than half an hour. He drew on to the drive and went into the house with her.

‘Go and pack quickly and please don't make a phone call from the house.'

‘Okay.'

‘Where is your stop tap?'

‘What?'

‘You know, where's your stop tap? The pipe where your water comes into the house?'

‘I have absolutely no idea, why?'

‘You go and pack. I'll find it myself.' He watched her trot upstairs, averting his eyes and thoughts away from her bottom, and went into the kitchen. The stop tap was where he expected to find it, under the sink. He reached under and turned the water supply off. Next he found the central heating control panel and slid the buttons to the ‘off' position. His next job was to read the meters. He found a small torch in a cupboard and found the triangular key for the meter cupboard on the wall outside. He took a note of the readings, just in case Burrows never came back to the house again, which he doubted she would. She would have to pay the bills up to date. Back inside, he shouted up the stairs, ‘How are you doing?'

‘Okay,' came a fairly weak response.

‘Mm, right,' he murmured.

She came downstairs a few minutes later, hauling a suitcase. She dropped it on to the hall carpet and went into the lounge where she opened the sideboard and scooped out a bundle of official-looking papers, placing them into a small flight bag. She then worked her way round the room, picking up photos and ornaments, putting some of them into the bag too.

‘Finished,' she declared. She was on the verge of breaking down. Henry knew this would be a critical point and that he had to get her out of the house before severe doubts made her change her mind.

He picked up her suitcase, which was so heavy it almost tore his arm off at the shoulder socket. ‘We'll go now,' he said, wishing to keep on top of the moment.

Her house phone rang, making both of them jump. She stared at Henry, wanting a steer.

‘Don't answer it.'

It rang and rang, then finally stopped. Almost immediately her mobile started to ring. She got it out and both looked at the display, but it was anonymous.

‘It'll be him. If I don't answer, he'll get suspicious.'

Henry relented. ‘Short and sweet.'

‘Hello . . . Hi, Ray,' Burrows said. ‘Yeah, I'm coming round . . . Ooh, that sounds great . . . Can't wait . . . See you. Bye.' She sneered at the phone. ‘He said he wants to suck my tits,' she said with disgust. ‘The bastard.'

The words were music to his ears because it meant her resolve to drop shit all over Ray from a very great height was still there. ‘Come on,' Henry said, ‘let's make a move.'

She went out ahead of him. He carried out the bags and made sure the door was closed and locked, unable to stop thinking that he himself would not mind doing what Ray had said, though he might have found a way to say it in a more diplomatic fashion. He would probably have used the word ‘breasts' rather than ‘tits.'

At the last moment, Henry had a deliberate change of plan. He stopped at a telephone kiosk outside the town of Kirkham and called Jane Roscoe's mobile. He fed a pound coin into the phone as she answered and saw it reduce immediately to 80p, then 70p. This urged him to get a message across as succinctly as possible.

‘Sorry – total change,' he said. ‘You'll see the reason why, so bear with me.'

‘I am waiting at Kirkham police station.'

‘Well done. Now I want you to go to Ormskirk police station. There's a police hostel above the nick and we're going to need two rooms for the night. Can you arrange that via a land line? Make sure we can get into the station, too, because I think it shuts to the general public at midnight. And make sure there are rooms to be had. Okay?'

‘Right, will do.'

With one penny to spare, Henry hung up and returned to the car. He explained what was happening and Burrows accepted things without a qualm, apparently.

‘You can't be too careful,' he said.

He headed back towards Preston and picked up the A59 southbound, which ran directly past police headquarters at Hutton, south of Preston. He turned in through the main gate, now properly guarded and controlled since a baddie had been bold enough to walk on to the site and toss a grenade at the force helicopter parked up on the rugby pitch. Henry was recognized immediately by the security guard and the barrier was raised for him. He turned right and pulled up near the single-storey social club situated behind the main HQ building. It was 11.30 p.m. and business was over for the evening, but he found Donaldson clutching the remains of a pint of lager at the bar, chatting to a starry-eyed barmaid who was definitely under his spell.

Jack Burrows saw her chance as Henry disappeared around the corner of the club. She got her phone out and called Ray Cragg.

‘And just where the hell have you got to?' he demanded instantly.

‘Can't tell you that, Ray, other than to say it's all over between you and me. I hate you and don't want to see you. I've had enough. It's true, Marty and me were lovers. He treated me right, didn't hit me like you've done.'

‘You were one of the lucky ones, then, you bitch.'

‘Yeah, I am, and there's more, much more. I'm going to tell the cops everything I know about you. I'm in protective custody now and I'm going to destroy you for the way you treated me and Marty.'

‘I don't think so,' Ray said confidently. ‘You'll be dead before you know it.'

‘Naah, Henry Christie will look after me. He fancies me and I fancy him. He can suck my tits, you bastard. You are going down, you complete and utter evil bastard! DOWN!'