Dead Watch: a fast-paced thriller you don't want to miss Read online

  ‘You’re lucky,’ Phil said. ‘Explaining that one could have been embarrassing for you.’

  Wesley nodded as he stepped away from the cliff edge. ‘It won’t happen again, that’s for sure.’

  ‘No, I’m sure it won’t.’

  The sound of sirens made them turn and look up to the road. The police and ambulance had arrived simultaneously. As they negotiated their way back up the bank, Wesley spoke again. ‘If the police want to preserve the scene and leave the body in situ, are you okay with us getting away? I don’t see there being anything else for us to do now.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Phil said. ‘I wouldn’t want to spoil your crew’s beauty sleep any more than is necessary.’

  Wesley took on board what had been said and thought about it for a moment. ‘You’re an on-call officer, aren’t you, boss?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘So, didn’t you have to get out of bed to respond to this call?’

  Phil turned to face him. ‘I expect that sort of response from that idiot over there,’ he nodded at Lenny who was air-drumming the solo of “In the Air Tonight,” ‘and not one of my officers… Don’t make me regret the decision to make you operational.’

  Wesley nodded. ‘Sorry, Phil.’

  The journey back to the station was almost silent, so much so that Harrison felt the need to intervene. ‘What’s up with you lot?’ he said. ‘You mourning that guy in the beamer? I’m sure he was very nice.’

  It was true what people said; firefighters really did have a black sense of humour. They had to, especially when it came to RTCs. When you watched someone take their last breath in front of you, or you got to see up close the body of a small child that had taken the full impact of a crash, then you had to learn how to deal with it. For most firefighters, that involved making inappropriate jokes or comments that would have left the average member of the public in shock. Because that was what the firefighters were – in shock. The best way they knew how to deal with such traumatic events, without having to go off sick, was to laugh about it, discuss it with their colleagues who had also been there and then put it behind them and move on. If they didn’t, they’d all end up going crazy.

  It was Dylan who finally broke the silence. ‘I can’t do this. We’ve got to go back.’

  ‘Do what?’ Harrison asked.

  Dylan looked to Lenny sitting next to him. ‘If we go back now and explain what we did, I’m sure we’ll be okay.’

  ‘Shut up and calm down,’ Lenny said.

  Harrison looked over his shoulder towards his passengers. ‘What’s he talking about? Why do we need to go back?’

  Wesley laughed. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s just playing silly buggers.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Harrison said, not buying it. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘We fucked up,’ Dylan spurted out. ‘We just made a terrible mistake, and now, we need to sort it out, before it’s too late.’

  Harrison looked to Wesley as the vehicle slowed down. ‘What the hell’s going on here? Don’t make me ask again.’

  ‘Forget it,’ Lenny said, leaning forward into the front of the cab. ‘Just get us back to the station. I think he just needs a good kip.’

  Harrison slammed on his brakes almost throwing Lenny into the front of the vehicle. Even though he had been told hundreds of times, he always refused to wear his seatbelt when he sat in the back.

  ‘Now you listen to me,’ Harrison said, ‘I’m not going anywhere until you lot tell me what the hell is going on. Something ain’t right here.’

  Wesley turned to address his driver. ‘There was a pile of money in the back of that car.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, we took it.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘We took it. I know we shouldn’t have, but if you’d seen it lying there–’

  ‘I would have left it and told the police, you fucking idiot,’ Harrison looked over his shoulder again, but this time, he was staring at Jo. ‘Please tell me he’s joking?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Right!’ he shouted. ‘That’s it. We’re going back.’

  Lenny reached forward and placed his hand on Harrison’s shoulder. ‘Whoa, just hold on a minute, would you? What the fuck do you think you’re going to achieve by going back?’

  ‘He’s right,’ Wesley said. ‘It’s too late now. If you go back, we’re all going to end up getting sacked.’

  ‘No, we won’t,’ Dylan said. ‘Not if we do it now, and explain it was just a moment of madness. If we don’t, they’ll find out, and we’ll be fucked anyway.’

  Lenny looked at him and shook his head. ‘Do me a favour and shut the fuck up for five minutes. The adults are talking.’

  ‘Adults?’ Harrison said, ‘I’d hardly say that what you morons have just done qualifies as adult behaviour. Now, all of you do me a favour and shut the fuck up. We’re going back. I’ve got less than a year left in this job. If you think I’m going to risk my pension over this shit…’ He put the vehicle into drive and turned the wheel to point them back the way they had come.

  ‘That’s right,’ Lenny said. ‘You just think of yourself and your nice big pension pot. If you were in the same situation as the rest of us, perhaps you wouldn’t be so quick to judge.’

  Lenny’s comment was a low blow in anyone’s book. Harrison was probably the most selfless person at the station. He had put other people’s problems and worries before his own for as long as he could remember. So much so, that his own private life had come to resemble a train wreck as he struggled to help other people preserve theirs.

  There was some truth to Lenny’s outburst, though, no matter how unfair it was. As part of the government’s decimation of the fire service, the contracts they had signed up to when they first joined the job had effectively been torn up. Firefighters would now have to work for at least five years extra, contribute a larger portion of their wages into their pension scheme (even though they already paid substantially more into their respective pot than almost anyone else) and get far less in return when they retired. Not surprisingly, they were furious, and this was one of the main reasons why they had reluctantly taken strike action.

  The only people not being affected by these changes were the ones in their final ten years of service. This meant that Harrison would be leaving the job in just under a year with a lump sum and pension that was worth far more than his younger colleagues could ever imagine. None of the others on the watch fell into the category. Lenny had missed it by a year and Jimmy by a matter of weeks. For a man who had built his whole career on solidarity with his fellow workers, this anomaly did not sit at all well with Harrison. Lenny had succeeded in finding his weak point.

  ‘How much money are we talking?’ Harrison asked.

  Lenny shrugged. ‘Fuck knows, but it’s a lot. Hundreds of thousands of pounds maybe.’

  There was a pause before Harrison spoke again. ‘You okay with this, Jo?’

  She shrugged back at him, unwilling to meet his stare.

  ‘And you, Dylan, you still want to take it back?’

  Dylan shook his head, seeming to have calmed down. ‘No, I’m okay now. We should keep it.’

  He looked to Wesley with nothing but contempt. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point asking you.’

  ‘I’m in, if that’s what you mean.’

  Harrison looked to each of their faces. ‘There’s one condition, actually make it two, for me to not go back right now.’

  ‘We’re listening,’ Wesley said.

  ‘First, I want nothing to do with this money. Like Lenny said, I get my lump sum next year. I don’t need or want anything to do with it.’

  ‘Fine,’ Lenny said in a heartbeat. ‘I can live with that.’

  ‘Second, if you want to keep the money, Jimmy and Bodhi get equal shares.’

  An Inspector Calls

  ‘Five hundred and fifty thousand pounds.’ Wesley placed the final bundle of money in
the bag then looked around the table.

  ‘Five hundred and fifty motherfucking thousand pounds,’ Lenny corrected him. ‘Not a bad night’s work, I think we can all agree.’

  ‘Actually,’ Harrison said, ‘I think I made it pretty obvious that we don’t all agree. I don’t agree with what you’ve done one little bit, and if you’d told me then it was from drugs, there’s no way I’d have gone along with it.’

  The room fell silent, even though it was obvious that there were things people wanted to say. Lenny wanted to ask Harrison where else he thought the money might have come from. Who the fuck else, except for drug dealers, had just over half a million pounds stashed in a sports bag in the back of their BMW? Dylan wanted to argue the case for the drugs themselves. Why was it acceptable to drink beer and smoke cigarettes – both drugs that had screwed people up for decades, if not centuries – yet it still remained illegal to smoke a doobie?

  They both wanted to ask the questions, but instead, they restrained themselves and said nothing. When it came to drugs, it was best to avoid the subject with Harrison, regardless of the context. That was one subject you never argued with him about. Ever.

  ‘Maybe it’s not drug money,’ Dylan said hopefully. ‘Maybe the guy just didn’t trust banks.’

  Harrison’s stare told him not to bother.

  ‘So, I take it you’re still not interested in taking your share?’ Lenny said finally. ‘’Cos you know, right, it is your share.’

  Harrison shook his head. ‘No, it’s not. It never was, and it never will be.’

  Lenny shrugged. ‘Fine, if that’s how you feel. The other thing I was thinking, and I know you’re just going to think I’m being a selfish bastard here, but are you sure it’s wise to get Jimmy and Bodhi involved in this?’

  ‘I meant what I said. They get equal shares.’

  ‘Fine, but what if they react like you did? I mean, they weren’t even there. They’re not going to understand what we did. What if they don’t want the money? What if they decide to go to management or the fucking police about it? We’d be fucked. Maybe it’s best we kept it between ourselves, is all I’m saying.’

  Harrison shrugged. ‘That’s just the risk you’re going to have to take. If you’re not happy with those odds, then I’ll call the police now and tell them we’ve made a terrible mistake.’

  Lenny sighed. ‘All right, Harrison, you win. We split it six ways.’

  He looked across to Dylan. ‘You feeling a little bit calmer now, pissy pants? I think your career as a criminal may be over before it began.’

  A faint chuckle went around the room, lightening the mood slightly.

  ‘I’m not going to lie to you,’ Dylan answered. ‘I shit myself there, big time. Right now, though, I’m not scared, I just feel pretty bummed out by the whole thing.’

  ‘Why? You’re nearly a hundred grand richer,’ Lenny paused and looked to Harrison, ‘or just over a hundred grand, depending on how we divvy out the money.’

  Dylan nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Jo asked.

  ‘I mean, I didn’t need the money. I was just being greedy. I’m happy as I am.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Lenny said, ‘We haven’t all got a rich girlfriend to keep us. You may be happy, but I’m fucking not. I’ve got a heap of debts, a piece of shit car, and a rented basement flat that stinks-to-fuck of mould. Money may not buy happiness, but I’m damn well willing to give it a try.’

  ‘Fair play, and I’m not try to piss on anyone’s bonfire here, it’s just… I guess this is what George Clooney must have felt like when he started selling cappuccinos, that’s what I’m getting at.’

  ‘Nah, mate,’ Lenny said. ‘I’ll tell you how he would have felt. Financially better off, that’s what. Now, quit your moaning and do what George did. Smile for the camera and think about the money.’

  The beam of a car’s headlights flooded the room with light as it turned onto the station’s forecourt. The vehicle pulled up in front of the middle bay, blocking the fire engine’s path, should they get a call.

  ‘Go on see what that fucking asshole wants,’ Lenny said to Dylan.

  Without arguing, Dylan got to his feet and walked across to the window.

  ‘Fuck!’ he shouted when he got there and witnessed a policeman getting out of his vehicle and heading towards the door.

  ‘It’s the Old Bill!’ he yelled at the others. ‘We’re fucked.’

  ‘All right, just stay calm,’ Wesley said. ‘Perhaps they’ve come about something else.’

  Jo approached the window and peered out. ‘Like what? When do the police ever visit us?’

  ‘Listen,’ Dylan said, ‘let’s just take the money out to him now and explain what happened. It’ll be better for us that way.’

  Lenny got to his feet and grabbed the bag of cash. ‘Fuck that,’ he said, before charging off in the direction of the locker room.

  Harrison calmly took a sip of tea from his mug. ‘This is a surprise.’

  ‘Thanks for that,’ Wesley said, then turned to Dylan. ‘Right, get over here, sit down and be quiet. I’ll go and speak to him.’

  The doorbell rang just as Dylan did as he was told. The officer that Wesley opened the door to was a youngish guy, probably not much older than Dylan. He recognised the man as soon as he saw him. He had been the first uniformed officer to turn up and meet them when they were back up the bank. Without trying to take over and throw his weight around, he had been involved in preserving the scene until traffic turned up and began their investigation.

  ‘How you doing?’ Wesley asked him. ‘You want to come in for a cup of tea?’

  The officer gave him a grateful smile. ‘No thanks. I’m still on the clock.’

  ‘So, how can I help you in that case?’

  ‘I just thought I’d give you guys a heads-up about what we found back there. I know these things don’t always end up getting back to you.’

  ‘Tell me about it. The grapevine doesn’t usually extend this far… So, what did you find out?’

  ‘It’s about the driver of the vehicle.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. If you were wondering why there wasn’t much damage to the car, I think I can help.’

  ‘Really?’ Wesley said, swallowing hard.

  ‘Really,’ the police officer repeated. ‘It wasn’t the impact that killed the driver. Someone shot the guy in the head.’

  Jo brought the coffee pot across to the table, sat down and pushed down on the plunger. ‘What I don’t get,’ she said, ‘is how in God’s name didn’t we realise he’d been shot.’

  ‘That’s easy,’ Lenny answered. ‘A bullet from most handguns is actually pretty small, probably no more than a centimetre in diameter.’

  He pushed the tips of his fingers together, bringing them into a point, and pressed them into the palm of his other hand. ‘It’s not the entry wound that causes the real damage when someone is shot.’

  He quickly opened his fingers as wide as they could go. ‘The exit point is where the real damage is done. I’m guessing the gun didn’t have much spunk to it, and the bullet got lodged somewhere in his skull.’

  Jo looked at him with more than a hint of disbelief. ‘And how would you know that?’

  ‘Andy McNab. The man can tell you pretty much everything you need to know about modern warfare. His are the only books I bother to read.’

  Dylan laughed. ‘Explains a lot.’

  ‘Actually, he’s pretty much right,’ Wesley said, ‘or at least in that copper’s opinion he is. He said you could hardly notice where the bullet went in, what with all the blood and snot hiding it.’

  Dylan got up and paced around the table. ‘This is bad, man, this is really fucking bad.’

  ‘I thought you were going to stop being such a massive pussy about all this!’ Lenny yelled at him. ‘I mean, seriously, what the fuck are you going to do when Felicity wants her vagina back?’

  Dylan stopped
pacing and turned to Lenny. ‘Tell me something, have you seen No Country for Old Men?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well that’s we are in right now: a No Country for Old Men situation. And just in case you’ve forgotten, things didn’t end well for anyone in that film.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ Lenny said, ‘that was just a film. This is real life, and shit like that don’t happen in real life. Just because the guy was shot, doesn’t change anything. Nobody knows we’ve got the money, and as long as no one knows, we’re all safe. So, please, do me a favour and stop fucking panicking. Okay?

  Dylan nodded reluctantly.

  While they were talking, Harrison chuckled away to himself.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Jo asked him.

  ‘No Country for Old Firemen,’ he said.

  The others looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

  Lenny nudged Harrison with his elbow. ‘No Cunt for Old Firemen, more like. Ain’t that right, mate?’

  Jo looked down her nose at him and shook her head. ‘You really are a disgusting piece of shit. You know that, right?’

  Their laughter was broken up by the sound of the bells going down, telling them they had another call.

  Jo

  Jo dipped her arm into the water, cupped some into in her hand then splashed it onto her face. Even though it was May and she was in a river as opposed to the sea, the cold temporarily took her breath away. She inhaled deeply then submerged below the surface. When she came up again, she had to force herself not to gasp. The race would be starting in the next few minutes, and she had to be ready for the scrap that would inevitably take pace in the first fifty metres. The swimmers would be climbing over each other to try and get ahead at this critical stage, and fists, elbows and feet would be flying indiscriminately in the carnage. That was not the time to acclimatise to the water temperature. The other competitors would be ready for the chaos, so she needed to be firing on all cylinders too.

  While the rest of the Watch were eating their breakfasts, Jo had driven to Arundel to take part in the triathlon. Ginger Balls off Green Watch had come in for her an hour early to make sure she was ready for the nine o’clock start. She had done him plenty of favours in the past, so hadn’t felt guilty about asking him to give up his precious free time on a Sunday morning.