Riot Page 42

  Archie didn’t tell his friend that he’d never handled a gun before, he was only copying what he’d seen his dad and the men with him do during that horrible time when he’d kidnapped them all.

  Craig shifted uneasily as Archie stared at him, for a moment convinced his friend was going to pull that gun and shoot him, just to find out what it was like.

  “Let’s go,” said Archie, heading to the door.

  Craig exhaled with relief and followed him, careful to keep a safe distance behind him. They left via the front door, quietly closing it behind them, the rest of the family oblivious.

  Twenty minutes after they’d gone Beth returned home with two uniformed police officers in tow, both of whom were in Jules’s pay.

  “Wait here,” she told them, leaving them in the lounge. “I’ll get my mum and dad to take my other children out. I don’t want them here for this. They’re probably in the garden. Archie won’t be, he never joins in,” she ended sadly.

  The officers nodded and remained where they were while Beth headed into the back garden.

  “Mum,” cried Holly, the first to spot her. She raced up to Beth and threw her arms around her. Alfie followed suit, Ellie hurrying to catch up.

  “How’s Dad?” demanded Alfie, eyes wide with worry.

  “He’s going to be fine, thank God.”

  Her heart went out to him when tears of relief filled his eyes. If only both her sons experienced emotion the same way.

  “Hi baby girl,” said Beth, cuddling Ellie. She looked to Alfie. “I need to have a word with your gran and granddad.”

  Understanding completely, he took his sisters’ hands and distracted them with a football.

  “You said Riley’s going to be okay?” said her mum anxiously, who adored her son-in-law. She considered him to be a vast improvement on Alex Maguire.

  Beth nodded, wanting to cry her heart out on her mum’s shoulder but she kept it inside. Looking to her children she saw they were all happily distracted, relieved now they knew Riley was going to be okay.

  “Beth, what’s wrong?”

  “Where’s Archie?”

  “In his room. Why?”

  “Riley was poisoned with rat poison,” she whispered, voice shaking.

  “Rat poison? How did that happen?”

  “Archie.”

  Her parents paled but neither of them said that wasn’t possible.

  “I’ve brought the police.”

  “The police? Beth, isn’t that a bit much?”

  “He could have killed Riley. If he hadn’t collapsed in a hospital he would be dead now. How can I ever let him around my other kids again? Or what if he’d given it to me?” she said, wrapping her arms around her belly, thinking of the child inside her rather than herself.

  “Okay sweetheart, if you think this is the right thing to do.”

  “It is. Could you take the kids to the park? I don’t want them here when they take him away. You can go out the back gate so they won’t see the police.”

  “Of course. I’ll just come in for their jackets in case it rains.”

  While Beth’s dad made sure the children were distracted, her mum returned inside with her.

  As Beth passed by Riley’s office something caught her eye and she froze. “Oh my God,” she breathed.

  “What is it?”

  “Riley’s safe is open.”

  “Safe? What does he keep in there? Money?”

  Beth bent down and peered inside “His gun’s gone.”

  “He keeps a gun here?”

  Beth rushed upstairs as fast as her belly would allow and threw open the door to Archie’s bedroom but it was empty. Just to be sure, she checked all the other bedrooms and the two bathrooms but he was gone.

  “Oh Christ,” she said, hurrying back downstairs, bypassing her mother, who was standing at the bottom looking confused.

  Beth burst into the lounge, startling the two officers. “My son’s gone missing and he’s got a gun.”

  Leonidas was considering returning to Liverpool when DS Miller called and asked to meet up with him at a café on the opposite side of the city to the station she was based at.

  Thanks to his crap sat nav getting all turned around he was fifteen minutes late for their meeting.

  “Sorry,” he said, sitting opposite her at the table in the corner. “I got lost.”

  “It’s alright,” she said, although inside she was angry, thinking she’d been stood up again. She sniffed the air, wondering why he smelled of passion fruit.

  “It’s my vape,” he said, producing it from his pocket as proof. “I’m trying to quit.”

  “Good for you Sir,” she smiled, amused. “I’ve had a tip-off from an ex-colleague about Dwyer. She told me to look into the Portendorfer case.”

  “Who?”

  “Portendorfer,” she repeated. “I struggled with it at first too. Apparently it’s a surname on the verge of extinction in this country.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Michael Portendorfer was sentenced to life in Manchester Prison for murdering his wife by manual strangulation. My source tells me she was certain his best friend, David James, was actually responsible. I pulled the file. Apparently Giselle Portendorfer had been having an affair with him. Dwyer reasoned that the husband must have found out and killed her but there was no evidence that he even knew.”

  “How long did the affair last?”

  “Six months. David was the first to point the finger at Michael.”

  “Why would David want to kill Giselle?”

  “Her best friend, Marion Ballantine, said she was going to end the affair. Marion was certain she had and David didn’t take it very well.”

  “Did David have an alibi?”

  “Yes. Apparently he was at a busy nightclub with friends but Giselle lived a five minute drive from the club. His friends were totally plastered and wouldn’t have noticed if he’d gone missing. CCTV at the club doesn’t show him for the twenty minute window it would have taken him to kill her, Giselle’s time of death was put down at about one o’clock in the morning. Michael didn’t have an alibi as he was away on a business trip in Bradford, which is only twenty seven miles away.”

  “So he could have made the journey there and back to Manchester. He could have found out about the affair.”

  “Yes Sir but Michael suffered from a condition called trigger thumb, which affects the tendons and makes the thumbs lock when bent towards the palm. It’s a painful condition and would have made it very difficult for him to strangle anyone with his bare hands. No one else knew about this. Michael was the sort of man who saw illness as a weakness, so he hid it.”

  “So David wouldn’t have known about it.”

  “Precisely Sir.”

  “Surely that would have been enough to exonerate him in court?”

  “It might had it not been for the DNA evidence. Michael’s DNA was found on her neck.”

  “Wouldn’t that be expected, being her husband?”

  “She’d been swimming just that day, after he’d left for Bradford. Any DNA should have washed off. That and the fact that he couldn’t produce an alibi were enough to find him guilty. I spoke to another officer who worked the case. He said Dwyer was so convincing on the stand. He knows how to work a jury and play on their sympathies. Dwyer knew he couldn’t get David James done for it, there was no DNA linking him to the crime and he had half a dozen people vouching for him. Michael was an easy target. Dwyer has never been interested in real justice, just how his arrest record looks. The Portendorfers were a prominent local family, it was a high profile case so, in his eyes, failure was not an option. Better for someone innocent to get sent down than his career take a hit.”

  “I’ve only met the man twice but I can well believe it.”

  “That’s the general consensus of everyone who’s worked with him.”

  “And do you agree?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “We need to talk to Mich
ael Portendorfer.”

  “We can’t. He was killed in the prison riot, stabbed in the stomach and left eye.”

  “Oh hell,” he sighed. “Is David James still around?”

  “Yes Sir, he still lives in the city. Luckily this murder was committed six years ago, so all the evidence is still in storage. I’ve sent the DNA evidence for retesting.”

  “Well that should be interesting.”

  “I’ve spoken to my ACC. He said not to speak to David James until we have the DNA results back, he doesn’t want to put him on his guard.”

  “I agree.”

  “I told him I was going to approach you with this and he approved. He said as you’re from another force you’d be neutral.”

  “I am. Anything else we can look at?”

  “Yes Sir. I’ve dug up another couple of Dwyer’s cases that were suspect. Before I go any further are you sure you want to hang around for this with it not being your force?”

  “My DCC has given me leave to look into it. Jez Law has been charged on DNA evidence. If Dwyer has a habit of faking it then we want to know as that case is interlinked with our own against The Make-Up Killer and Estelle was killed on our patch.”

  “Alright Sir,” she said, producing a buff file from her handbag. “Here are the other two cases.”

  CHAPTER 45

  “Come on,” said Craig. “Give us a go.”

  “In a minute,” replied Archie, taking aim at a tree trunk with the gun.

  The park they’d chosen to visit was pretty quiet. As it was raining there was no one on the play park and the dog walkers had already scurried indoors, so they were alone.

  “Will the rain damage the gun?” Craig asked him.

  “Nah,” said Archie confidently, although in truth he had no idea. He didn’t think so. He’d seen people firing guns in the rain on films, so he figured it would be okay. Besides, it was starting to ease off.

  He squeezed the trigger rather than pull it, like he’d overheard his dad telling other people. There was a bang and the gun recoiled in his hands, the bullet ploughing into the ground beside the tree.

  “Cool,” grinned Craig. “Although it wasn’t as loud as I thought it would be.”

  “It shit those birds up though,” said Archie, indicating a flock of sparrows rising up into the air.

  “Stupid birds,” giggled Craig. “Come on, it’s my turn now.” He went silent when Archie gave him one of his creepy looks that said if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to shove my fist down your throat.

  Archie took aim again and this time when he fired he hit the side of the tree, splintering a bit of wood off it.

  “You hit it,” exclaimed Craig, rushing to study the damage. “That is so awesome.”

  “Oy,” said a voice.

  They looked round to see a group of five teenagers marching up to them. They looked older than themselves, probably seventeen or eighteen years old.

  “What have you got there?” demanded the leader of the group. He looked big and hard but the look was ruined by the acne covering every inch of his face.

  “Nothing,” said Archie, hiding the weapon behind his back.

  “You got an air gun?”

  “No.”

  “Liar. Show me what’s in your hand.”

  “Do yourselves a favour and fuck off,” he glowered in a perfect imitation of his dad.

  The boys weren’t expecting such aggression from a lad younger than themselves, even though he was fucking massive and they all looked at each other.

  “He thinks he’s tough,” laughed the leader.

  His friends joined in the laughter but they didn’t look as sure of themselves.

  “Give us the gun.”

  Craig swallowed hard when all expression fell from Archie’s eyes.

  “Fine,” he said. “Here you go.”

  He aimed the gun at the boy, who failed to realise it was real as some of the air pistols looked so realistic.

  Archie squeezed the trigger and the boy was pitched onto his back, blood staining his t-shirt. His friends stared down at him in mute horror.

  “You killed him,” whispered one of them, face pale.

  In response his friend groaned and shifted on the floor, putting a hand to his injured shoulder.

  “You wanting some of the same?” said Archie, aiming the gun at them.

  Screaming, the boys turned and ran, leaving their friend wriggling and bleeding on the ground.

  “Oh my God, that was amazing,” exclaimed Craig. “Let me have a go, I want to shoot him.”

  “No…please,” cried the boy, blood trickling through his fingers.

  “Look, he’s pissed himself,” said Craig excitedly, pointing to the widening stain on the boy’s crotch. “What a fucking pussy. Come on Archie, give me the gun.”

  Archie noted the couple just entering the park with a large alsatian on a lead. They hadn’t noticed them yet but they soon would. There was a family just coming through the other gate too with two young children. He tucked the gun into his jeans. “Let’s get out of here, there’s too many people. I know of another place.”

  “Okay but you let me have a go when we get there,” said Craig.

  “Deal.”

  They wandered off, leaving the boy bleeding out all over the grass. Only when they’d vanished from view did he dare call for help.

  Beth sat on the couch with a female PC by her side who seemed extremely concerned about the stress the situation was placing on her in her condition. She kept patting her back and fetching her cups of tea. At first Beth had appreciated how kind she was. Now she was getting on her tits.

  “They’ll bring him home safely,” said the constable, who was called Mary. “You’ll see.”

  So you’ve said twelve times already, Beth wanted to snap back at her but instead she gave her a wan smile.

  They both looked up when a man Beth knew to be a detective sergeant entered the room. He was responsible for relaying all information about her son’s movements to her. Beth’s parents had taken the rest of her children to one of her hotels. She didn’t want them anywhere near this and she thought it wise to hide them in case Archie turned up at his grandparents’ house with a gun.

  “We’ve had word on your son,” said DS Gillingham.

  Beth didn’t like the look in his eye. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.

  “He shot a teenager in a park not far from here.”

  Beth paled and sank back onto the couch. “Is the teenager okay?”

  “He was shot in the shoulder but a couple walking their dog found him and got him to hospital in time, so he’ll be alright.”

  “Oh thank God,” she breathed.

  “Are you okay Beth?” said Mary when she started to gasp, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

  Beth closed her eyes and willed her pounding heart to slow, certain she was on the verge of a panic attack but that would help no one. To her relief, it began to abate. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing,” she murmured, exhausted. “He’s not…right in the head.” There, she’d finally said it. Her son wasn’t troubled or recovering from a trauma. Something was seriously wrong with him. It couldn’t be denied any longer. “We’ve sent him to child psychologists and psychiatrists but none of them have been able to help him. But he’s been better since Ellie was born. I never thought he’d do anything like this.” Even as she uttered this last statement she knew it was a lie. Archie had been a ticking time bomb and finally he’d exploded. “Do you know where he is?”

  “He moved on from the park after he shot the teenager. We’ve got officers studying CCTV. From what we can see he’s moving south, away from here. We’ll find him soon. We’ll keep you updated.”

  “Thank you,” replied Beth.

  “The boy who was shot said Archie had a friend with him - a thin boy with dark hair, freckles and green eyes.”

  “Sounds like Craig Brown, Archie’s only friend. They go to the same school and are as thick as thi
eves.”

  “I’ll pass that information on, thank you Beth. I’ve to stay here, in case Archie returns,” added Gillingham, opening his suit jacket to reveal the pistol holstered there.

  “What the hell are you going to do if he does turn up?” she retorted. “You are not shooting my boy.”

  “Of course not Madam, it’s just a precaution. I’m a trained firearms officer, so I know what I’m doing.”

  “Alright,” she nodded, exhausted. “God I feel so useless. I should be doing something but I’ve no idea what.”

  “How about another cup of tea?” said Mary.

  Beth swallowed down the temptation to slap her. “Sounds good.”

  Dwyer had watched Rachel swan about the shopping centre like she owned the place. Little did he realise that she actually did. He had to give her her due though, she’d bought very little, bypassing the jewellery and clothes shops, which he’d assumed she’d spend hours in. In truth she didn’t even glance at them as she passed by. Instead she stopped at a small fruit and veg cart, a bookshop and a drycleaners.

  She left with a couple of carrier bags and one of her dresses draped over her arm covered in clear plastic. As she returned to her car Dwyer got out of the one he’d hired at the airport and hurried to greet her. She was alone, the gorilla who had been on guard duty at her home absent.

  “Rachel,” he said as she was pulling her car keys out of her handbag.

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you want now? Don’t you have a life outside the force?”

  “Not at the moment. It’s all hands on deck because someone executed one of my prime witnesses.”

  “Oh dear,” she said flatly. “How sad but I don’t understand why you came all the way down here to tell me.”

  “I know your family was responsible.”

  “Prove it,” she said, lips twitching.

  “I don’t fucking need to because you are going to turn yourself in for what you did.”

  “Not this again. I already gave you my answer.”

  Dwyer knew he wasn’t being recorded because she hadn’t even known he was there and with her arms full of shopping bags, dry cleaning and her keys she couldn’t reach her phone. “If not I’ll ensure Mikey and Jez go down for life. I’ll conjure evidence against them that will mean they both die in prison. I’ll also find some against Jules and throw her into prison too. Then I’ll make sure all three of them are put in prisons down south where no one owes them anything and where everyone wants them dead. They wouldn’t last five minutes, despite how tough they are.”