Riot Read online

  “If you don’t mind me asking Sir,” said Marlow. “Did this Ray not have any guards with him?”

  “No. I didn’t dare trust his location with anyone else.”

  “Not even your own officers?”

  Dwyer’s eyes narrowed at what sounded to be criticism in Marlow’s tone. “Let me tell you something about the Maguires and Laws - they have eyes and ears everywhere and the cash to bribe the highest officials. The only way to keep Ray safe was to keep him a secret.”

  “I suppose,” said Marlow, not sounding very convinced.

  Dwyer was sick of the man but thanks to him he’d put together Ray’s assassination. There was no need for him to stay here any longer. The scenes of crimes officers would find nothing in that house, Mark Cameron was far too good at his job. “Well thank you for your time DI Marlow. I need to return to Manchester. Keep me informed of your investigation.”

  “Will do Sir,” he replied, glad when Dwyer got out of the car, wincing when he slammed the door shut unnecessarily hard. “Wanker,” he said when he’d gone.

  “Tosser,” mumbled Dwyer as he headed back to his own car.

  Both men failed to realise just how alike they were.

  CHAPTER 41

  Leonidas hadn’t yet had the chance to speak to DCI Dwyer thanks to the prison riot. He’d been allowed to wait inside the prison grounds, following every piece of news as it became available, praying The Make-Up Killer didn’t avoid justice by being brutally slain. His worst fears hadn’t been realised but the shocking truth of what the serial killer was capable of were revealed in gory clarity. He’d killed at least seven men in the riot with his bare hands. Leonidas was chilled to the bone when he thought back to when he’d arrested Carl. It would have been so easy for him to tear him to pieces but he hadn’t, he’d wanted to be caught. What would Carl have done if he’d been determined to escape? Every time he thought about it Leonidas’s testicles attempted to crawl their way up inside his body. He could have ended up in pieces on the kitchen floor of a serial killer.

  The prisoners had told stories of how Carl had been crying and weeping, saying he couldn’t control bad Carl before he’d morphed into another person, one who found it very easy to rip pieces off people. Deemed too dangerous to remain even in a category A prison, he was being transferred to HMP Frankland in County Durham to spend the rest of his life in the prison’s close supervision centre, locked in a single cell and being fed through a hatch. The van he was being transported in was escorted by the very group of soldiers who had quashed the riot. Even though his trial hadn’t started yet, it was clear from Carl’s actions in the prison that he would never be released.

  Now The Make-Up Killer was taken care of he could finally go and speak to DCI Dwyer, something he wasn’t particularly looking forward to, the man was a cock but he’d caught the scent of blood and he was obliged to follow the trail.

  He arrived at the Organised Crime Unit to find Dwyer had gathered his team together and he was roaring at them while they looked back at him blankly. It appeared they had no idea what he was talking about.

  Dwyer spotted the intruder and yelled, “What do you want?”

  “Just a quick word Sir,” replied Leonidas. “It won’t take long.”

  Dwyer rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like for fuck’s sake.

  “Get back to work,” Dwyer snarled at his team before storming into his office, leaving the door standing open.

  Miller returned to her desk and watched with interest as Leonidas strolled into Dwyer’s office without a care in the world. She also wondered what he was doing back here, they’d taken over the investigation into Estelle’s death.

  She slid the earpiece into her ear. Fortunately she’d be able to listen to every word.

  “What can I do for you DI Leonidas?” said Dwyer in a rush. His temper was still up and this was the last thing he needed, he had so much to do.

  “Problems?”

  “A witness has been shot to death,” he puffed, red faced.

  “A witness in the Estelle Law case?”

  Another furious huff. “No. The Amber Maguire case.”

  “Oh dear.”

  Dwyer’s eyes narrowed. “Are you here for a reason?”

  “To find out if there have been any updates in the Estelle Law case.”

  “Couldn’t you have picked up the phone for that?”

  “I was in Manchester anyway. The Make-Up Killer got caught up in the riot.”

  “Oh, yeah. I heard he killed a number of prisoners.”

  “He did but he’s being shifted to a close supervision centre, so he’s not my problem anymore.”

  “Right, well, Estelle’s killer is locked up awaiting trial. So there you go, you can go back home to Liverpool now.”

  “I’d like to take a look at the evidence you have Sir, if that’s alright?”

  “Why?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “DI Leonidas, this is a police station, not a museum. You can’t come in and browse whenever you feel like it.”

  “We think there could be possible cross-contamination with The Make-Up Killer’s victim that was dumped on top of her.”

  “And how on earth did that happen? She was buried six feet deep and your body was found just after it had been dumped.”

  “Just so we can rule it out Sir. We don’t want anything compromising the trial.”

  “How can your perpetrator’s trial possibly be compromised? After what he’s done Jack the Ripper has more chance of being reintegrated into society.”

  “My DCC doesn’t want to chance anything. The media’s all over what he did during the riot. We can’t risk any more embarrassment and Estelle was killed on our patch.”

  “Fine,” sighed Dwyer. He threw himself into his chair and brought up the email from forensics showing the DNA found on Estelle’s clothing was from Jez. This particular email failed to state how it was generated from very low levels of DNA.

  “Happy?” said Dwyer.

  “What other evidence do you have?”

  “That’s it.”

  Leonidas raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect Sir, you managed to get someone remanded to prison on this evidence alone?”

  “For Estelle’s murder yes but don’t forget Jez is also going to trial for conspiracy to murder Amber Maguire too.” He grunted and kicked the leg of his desk. “And my star witness against him is now dead.”

  “A bit of a blow Sir.”

  “You think?” he retorted. “Is that it then?”

  “I wondered if I could talk to whoever processed the DNA on Estelle’s body?”

  Dwyer’s shit detector started going off. He’d been too caught up thinking about Ray’s death to worry about this arsehole but he was pressing too much. Something didn’t add up here. “Why, are you a forensic scientist too DI Leonidas?”

  “No Sir.”

  “Then what could you possibly have to discuss? That’s why they send us these reports,” he continued, indicating the email on his screen. “So us mere mortals can understand the results of their work. I fail to see what a chat with our man in forensics could offer.”

  “I just like to cover all bases Sir.”

  “Well you can’t, he’s on holiday. Anything else?”

  “If I could get his name and phone number…”

  “Anything else DI Leonidas?” he said with a warning glower.

  Leonidas sighed. “No Sir.”

  “Good. You’ve got a long drive back to Liverpool, so I won’t keep you.”

  Leonidas nodded. “Thank you for your time Sir.”

  “I’m glad you’re grateful because it won’t be given again.”

  When Leonidas had gone Dwyer buried his face in his hands and attempted to drive away the memory of that photo of his brother hanging in his cell. Sometimes his face was overlaid by Ray’s. A permanent chill had settled deep within his bones, one he wasn’t sure would ever go away.

  “Fucking Maguires,”
he hissed. “Fucking Leonidas.” He raised his head to glare at Rachel’s image. “It’s all your fault,” he told her. “Everything’s down to you, you fucking slag.”

  His temper snapped. He shot to his feet, withdrew the small penknife he always carried around and rammed it into the centre of her face, the blade piercing the photo and penetrating the wall behind.

  Miller was on the stairs one level below the Organised Crime Unit’s office waiting for Leonidas when he stomped through the door, looking a little dejected. He was surprised to see her milling about.

  “You’re looking into Estelle Law’s case, aren’t you Sir?” she said.

  “That’s between myself and DCI Dwyer err…”

  “DS Miller Sir.”

  “DS Miller. And how do you know what I came for?”

  “It’s the only explanation as to why you’re here.”

  “I suppose,” he said, not entirely convinced.

  “I can send you some information you’d find very interesting Sir.”

  “What information?”

  She glanced up and down the stairs. “I’d rather not say here.”

  “You’d go against your own DCI?”

  “Not usually Sir but what’s happening and has been happening for quite a while is wrong and it needs to stop.” She’d had a word with the ACC and he’d given her permission to bring in one person to assist her. He’d left who to her own judgement.

  Leonidas studied her before nodding and held out his card. “My contact details. Send me that information.”

  “Thank you Sir,” she replied, taking the card from him, watching as he continued down the stairs. Although not traditionally handsome he did possess a certain something that was very attractive. She liked the big rough type.

  After sliding his card into her trouser pocket she headed into the ladies, needing a reason to explain her absence. In her ear she could hear Dwyer in his office railing against not only Leonidas but the entire Liverpool police force and Rachel Law. The guy was losing it.

  Jules and Ryan were waiting to greet Mark at The Manor. When he walked through the door she took his face between her hands and gave him a big smacker on the cheek.

  “You fucking beauty,” she beamed at him.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before,” he smiled, amused.

  “Excellent work Mark,” said Ryan, shaking his hand.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’ll get a fucking good bonus for this,” said Jules.

  “It wasn’t hard to be honest, he had no idea I was there. That lot in Blackpool set up a cracking distraction.”

  “How did you get on working with them?”

  “No problem, they’re a good bunch, clever.” His eyes twinkled. “I liked Faith.”

  “I’ll bet you did, she’s a bit of alright.”

  “She certainly is. Is she seeing anyone?” He tried to sound casual and uninterested but failed.

  “No idea but if you want to find out I won’t object.”

  “Thanks Boss but I won’t until after all this shit is put to bed.”

  “Well thanks to you and the Chambers family we’re a lot closer to that. The main witness is gone. Without him that leaves Declan and Joyce with their crap evidence.”

  “Mikey and Jez could go for bail again,” said Ryan. “If they get a different judge they would definitely get it. With Declan gone too the case against them will fall apart entirely.”

  “Even if it does,” said Jules. “Dwyer will never stop coming after us.”

  Ryan didn’t like the look in his sister’s eyes. “No Jules.”

  “What?”

  “You are not killing Dwyer.”

  “I think I should, the guy’s a proper wart on our collective arses.”

  “Everyone would know who’d done it and the police would come straight for us.”

  “What does it matter if there’s no evidence to find?”

  “Dwyer is only coming after us so hard because I gave the order to kill his brother. Benton only went after Rachel and almost killed her because he was convinced she’d killed Superintendent Jarvis. We need to learn from the mistakes of the past and not repeat them or we’ll never be free from vengeful policemen.”

  “Do you agree?” she asked Mark.

  “Well Boss, he does have a point.”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “We probably won’t need to top him anyway. My little mole in the station tells me the DNA results on Jez are suss and that Spartan king from Scouseland is suspicious about McGinnis’s statement, not that that is worth a tiny turd anymore.”

  “Spartan king?” frowned Ryan.

  “The copper who told us about Estelle snuffing it. His name’s Leonidas.”

  “Ah, him.”

  “If Dwyer is done for falsifying evidence then the boys are free and clear.”

  “Unless they get the same judge.”

  “I’ll take care of that fruity old fart. No one will think twice if he has a heart attack.”

  “You look like shit Riley,” said Paula as she arrived on Cathy’s ward, ready to start her shift.

  “Lovely to see you too Paula,” he retorted.

  “What’s up? I’ve never seen you look so wrung out.”

  “I’m just a bit tired,” he muttered, standing aside so she could take his place at the door to Cathy’s room. “Beth can’t get comfy in bed at night, which keeps me awake too.”

  “Any activity?”

  “Course not, she’s due to give birth.”

  She smiled, stifling a laugh. “I mean here Riley.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry,” he yawned. “No, it’s all quiet but stay alert.”

  “Will do. I’m glad Mikey and Jez made it safely through the riot. They’re nice guys.”

  “That’s not what people usually call them,” said Riley with a wry smile.

  “Only people who haven’t met them. Get yourself home, you look done in.”

  Riley nodded. He’d be glad to get back and grab some shut eye, he’d been here all night and he felt quite queasy. Perhaps he should see a doctor? Something wasn’t right. “See you later,” he told Paula. “Anton will relieve you at seven.”

  “Lucky me,” she winked.

  Riley ambled off the ward with none of his usual energy and Paula watched him go, concerned. That man definitely wasn’t well but he was the type to keep it all in and not mention it, hoping to work through it.

  Paula popped into Cathy’s room to check on her, as she always did at the start of every shift. She liked Cathy and admired the way she was coping with her recent ordeal. She found her sitting up in bed, anxiously watching the television.

  “Alright Paula?” she smiled when she walked in.

  “Not so bad thanks. How are you doing?”

  “Feeling better. My stomach doesn’t hurt as much now. My surgeon said I should be able to go home in a couple of days. I can’t wait, I miss my babies so much.”

  “I’ll bet you are, they’re cracking kids.”

  The compliment made Cathy beam.

  Paula glanced at the television, which was tuned to the news, the riot still the main topic of discussion. It had kicked off a huge debate about overcrowding and underfunding in the prison system. “It’s okay now, the riot’s over. They’re safe.”

  “I won’t rest easy until they’re out of that place and back home. There will still be people in there wanting to kill them.”

  “And they won’t let them. They always win.”

  “One day they might lose,” she said sadly.

  Paula knew nothing she could say would make her feel better, so she didn’t bother trying. Instead she squeezed her hand. “Is there anything I can get you? How about I sneak you in a bottle of vodka?”

  This made Cathy smile. “Thanks for the offer but vodka makes me sick. A nice bottle of pinot would go down pretty well though.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she winked, making Cathy giggle. “Right, I’d better get back to my post. Gi
ve me a shout if you need anything.”

  “Will do,” said Cathy before turning her attention back to the television.

  Paula returned to her vigil outside Cathy’s door. Although the danger seemed to have passed she remained vigilant. Unpredictable things tended to happen around the Laws and Maguires.

  A porter was mopping on the ward and Paula watched him from the corner of her eye. It was a member of staff she’d never seen before. The man was large with sandy hair and a beard. New members of staff appeared on the ward all the time and she was always careful to keep an eye on them until she could verify their identity. It wouldn’t be the first time the family’s enemies had posed as hospital staff to gain access to them.

  When the man meandered off down the corridor and didn’t reappear, Paula relaxed. Obviously just a member of staff.

  CHAPTER 42

  Ronan retreated to the next floor of the hospital before making the call.

  “Jordan,” he said. “Be on standby. Visiting time starts in twenty minutes and Riley Cutter’s gone home. There’s just some blond woman guarding Cathy’s door.” He smiled at Jordan’s response. “Now don’t get carried away, okay? We’re not here to kill Cathy, not yet anyway and don’t do too much damage to the woman guarding her. We’re here to kill members of the family and no one else. Got it? Good.” He hung up, hoping Jordan didn’t go too far. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Declan met up with Ronan on the stairs in disguise - he’d shaved off his blond stubble, padded out his face and donned a black wig over which he wore a baseball cap. It was a good disguise but Ronan wasn’t sure it would prevent someone he knew well from recognising him. Personally he would have preferred it if Declan had remained back at base but he’d insisted on being here and this was his show, so who was he to dictate?

  “Are we on?” said Declan eagerly.

  Ronan nodded. “Cutter’s gone home and there’s only that woman with short blond hair on guard duty.”