Chapter 15 Wheels in
Motion
DS Steven Potter was working at his desk on so much
paperwork, they must have cut down a whole forest to print it. Most of it was
pointless. So many open cases, that would never be solved. He broke off to
answer his ringing phone.
He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He listened
incredulously to what the caller was saying. He ended the call by promising to
investigate and then hung up the phone. No way, the call he just got was a
joke. It had to be, but he was worried too. The scenario just seemed so
unlikely and yet....
He rubbed his tired eyes and took off his designer glasses.
He was working all the hours God sent to keep Princess Kayla in the cushy
lifestyle she was accustomed to. She spent his money like water, faster than he
could earn it, going shopping and lunching with the ladies and they were
getting on no better. This was his call, if he made the wrong one, he could
easily get demoted.
He made his decision and picked up the phone to dial his
superior officer’s number. He had decided to err on the side of caution.
Chapter 16 Heavy Duty
Later that night Darren sat in front of the TV, his second
whiskey in hand. Dutch courage he told himself. The twins were out for the
evening, so there was no one there to stop him. He could get as plastered as he
liked except... except she was counting on him.
He drained the whiskey glass and stood up. He reached for
his jacket and brushed the fat envelope in his pocket. There wasn’t even a
quarter of what they’d asked for in there, but he hoped he’d be able to promise
to get the rest and they would be satisfied. Yeah right and the Pope would
suddenly start advertising condoms.
Laurel was full of nervous energy. Something was happening
tonight, she could feel it. There was an excited air about the place. Her guard
had been as uncommunicative as ever when he’d brought her the remains of the
pasta, they’d had for dinner. His eyes had been as hostile as ever in his
masked face, but that didn’t matter, perhaps tonight it would all be over. For
the first time in a long time she prayed. Please Darren, please don’t stuff
this up.
Darren sat in his car in the park and took a deep breath.
Watching as the digital clock ticked towards midnight. Slowly he got out and
waited under the trees. The wind whistled eerily through the trees, an owl
hooted loudly, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin. He was barely
waiting 5 minutes when he heard footsteps and someone shone a torch right in
his eyes. He shielded them automatically. The person holding the torch nodded
once and someone grabbed him from behind. He started to struggle, but a voice
spoke in his ear.
“If you ever want to see your wife again, I suggest you stay
still”
Darren stiffened and immediately went still. The person
holding him threw him to the ground. He then proceeded to blindfold him and for
good measure kicked him in the ribs. Darren held in his pain as repeated blow
after blow rained down on him. He curled into a ball to protect himself.
After a while the blows stopped and he was forced to his
feet and made to walk. The sound of a car door opening and then someone pushed
roughly on his head, so that he had no choice, but to duck. Minutes later the
car moved off. As it did so the unmarked police car, waiting in the shadows
began to follow, keeping a discreet distance. Lights off, sirens quiet.
Darren spent most of the journey reflecting on the
situation. Is this the treatment Laurel had received when they took her or had
it been worse for her? Where were they taking him? What would they do to him
when they got there? Where were they keeping her? The same place, maybe. If so
would he be allowed to see her? Would he want to? What would he feel if he was
allowed?
He quashed the growing bubble of hope, rising in his chest
with difficulty. If you allowed yourself to hope, you made mistakes.
The car stopped suddenly and he was bundled out. Walking
clumsily, held up by two men, followed by several others. His muscles ached
from the beating they had received, but he dare not complain or slacken his
pace. Eventually after what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes he
was forced down onto his knees, where they preceded to thoroughly strip search
him, searching he presumed for hidden wires. Finding none they took his
briefcase and emptied out the money.
“This it?” The guy who seemed to be in charge asked. Darren
nodded.
“I need more time to get the rest. I...” he was cut short by
a sharp blow to his abdomen, which knocked the breath out of him. He rolled
with the blow, ending up on his back. It seemed that the person who’d punched
him was about to land another blow, but his companion held him back with a
sharp look.
“Seems like we’ll have to talk to the boss about you and
he’ll have to decide what to do about your wife. But as neither of you seem too
interested in giving him the information he requires, don’t bank on the
decision being favourable.
Without another word they left the room. Darren heard the
sound of the key turning in the lock. He ran his fingers through his hair. That
hadn’t gone at all well. In fact they couldn’t have gone much worse. Everything
now depended on a gangster who apparently routinely went around kidnapping and
hurting people being merciful. The odds didn’t look good.
Luke Timberlake stood staring out of his office window. What
he could see at this time of night was anyone’s guess. He was quite ordinary to
look at, no red tinted glasses that reflected his eyes blood red, no
wheelchair, no cat sat on his lap. He was just an ordinary businessman as far
as the taxman was concerned. Only his business was far murkier than most other
people’s.
He sighed exasperatedly as there was a loud knocking on the
door.
“Enter”
The door opened and two of his senior henchmen came in.
“He hasn’t got the money”
“Well he has, just not all of it”
“He’s asking for more time”
Luke smiled, enjoying how they talked over each other,
clamouring to get their explanations in before he could even think of blaming
them for the slight hitch in the plan. He put his fingers together and
considered what he was being told.
Yes it was an inconvenience. But not a major one. He wanted
someone to pay for the event that had changed his life forever, caused him to
go off the rails, enter the English criminal system at an early age. So what if
this person and his wife weren’t directly responsible, someone close to them
was. He wanted to send a message to that person. Innocents sometimes got hurt.
Collateral damage. He had taught himself patience in prison, patiently planned
this out. a little more patience was all that was needed.
“Let him go. He can have his extra time”
Darren breathed a sigh of relief as he was let out into the
open air. That was close. He really had believed they were both dead. He had
even said a quick prayer. Nothing had really changed though. He might be free,
but Laurel wasn’t. Somehow he had to get her released without any more harm
coming to her. But how? He was out of ideas.
No comments:
Post a Comment