Nick Oldham - Nightmare City

Kate raced to the door. She and the Donaldsons had been sitting in the lounge, tense, awaiting any developments. Karl stood with her at the threshold.

‘ Is Henry Christie here?’ Gallagher demanded.

‘ No, I-’

Before Kate could say anything more, Gallagher interrupted. ‘He’s wanted for assault, allowing a prisoner to escape and other corrupt practices, including rape and sexual assault. We’re gonna search the house.’

Donaldson stepped forwards. ‘Now hold on a moment, buddy.’

‘ By force if necessary,’ Gallagher warned him.

‘ Where’s the warrant?’

‘ Under English law we don’t need one. Now step aside and let us in, or we’ll gladly kick the fuck out of you.’

The officers poured in to the house. They pushed past Kate and one went straight through to the back door which he opened to allow three more detectives in. They had been watching the rear to prevent Henry escaping out back.

‘ What do you mean, rape and sexual assault?’ Kate cried. She was confused and on the edge of tears.

Gallagher sneered evilly at her. ‘Your husband can’t keep his hands off other women, can he?’ he said with extreme cruelty.

‘ Shut it, asshole,’ Donaldson warned him, and stepped forwards menacingly. Gallagher and he were much of the same height and build. It would have been an interesting conflict.

‘ Go on, do it,’ Gallagher invited.

Donaldson gritted his teeth and held back.

The moment passed.

‘ Now I suggest you get everyone in the house assembled in the living room,’ said Gallagher.

They parked the Granada in a badly-lit street in South Shore, and sat there hoping not to draw attention to themselves.

Henry found an oily cloth in the glove-box and pressed it to his ear. The bleeding had lessened. Coagulation was taking place.

They had another brief argument about presenting themselves at a police station. Henry’s instinct told him this was the way forwards. Rider laughed at him.

‘ That’s what comes of never having been on the wrong side of the law,’ he sneered. ‘You wanna look at it from a crim’s perspective occasionally. When a cop’s out to get you, it’s a godawful feeling when you know you can’t trust anyone. And for some, that’s what it’s like. A police station can be a place where everything you do or say is twisted.’

Which was hard for Henry to perceive. He had always — truly — believed that if he was in trouble he could go to the law and be dealt with fairly and justly. In a matter of days his world had been up-ended. Now he didn’t know who to trust, who to turn to, where to go. The badness of this squad seemed limitless, its influence phenomenal. Who could he go to who wasn’t touched by it?

Sitting there with a bleeding ear, a thumping head, in soaking wet clothes, he felt very much alone. He knew he could trust Karl Donaldson — but how could he get to him? And he knew he had to trust John Rider.

There was a silence between the men, filled by the engine ticking over. Warm air blew out of the vents.

‘ So did you kill Munrow?’

Rider turned his whole body in his seat to look at Henry. A slash of yellow light fell across his eyes. The rest of his face was in darkness. He said nothing.

‘ I thought so,’ Henry concluded.

The search had been thorough. An hour after starting, the police withdrew, taking nothing away with them despite having visited every nook and cranny.

Gallagher looked cheated.

‘ What did you expect to find?’ Donaldson asked him. ‘He ain’t done nothin’ wrong, bud — unlike some people I could mention.’ He looked knowingly at Gallagher then gladly closed the front door behind him.

Donaldson returned to the lounge where the two exhausted daughters had crashed out on the settee and the two weary women, hollow-eyed, looked tiredly at him.

Kate had gone beyond crying.

‘ Is it true?’ she begged desperately. ‘Can Henry really have helped a murderer to escape? And rape? What does it mean?’

‘ You can take it from me that Henry has not raped anyone, nor has he helped a murderer to escape,’ Karl hissed quietly, one eye on the two girls. This was a conversation they didn’t need to overhear. ‘Henry’s as straight as an arrow; he’s just become involved with people who aren’t.’

‘ What do we do now, Karl?’ Karen asked.

‘ Wait,’ said Donaldson. ‘I’m sure he’ll contact us when he can. In the meantime, let’s have a cup of tea and get these little ladies back to their beds.’ He winked at Karen and gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen.

‘ They were after those statements as much as anything,’ Donaldson said quietly to her. ‘What did you do with ‘em, babe?’

‘ They’re down my knickers — almost. As soon as I heard them at the door I grabbed the paperwork and folded it down the front of my jeans.’

Donaldson’s face turned into a wide smile. ‘Now I know why I love you,’ he said. ‘Any chance of me removing them with my teeth?’

She punched him gently on the arm. ‘Every chance.’

Henry was wet and shivering again, the dryness of the car having been left behind ten minutes ago.

He and Rider were, once more, in dark shadow. This time they were fifty metres down the road from the front of Rider’s club, watching the last of the stragglers stagger away from the doors.

At last the place closed up and the lights went out.

The street was quiet. Nothing moved.

Ten minutes later the door opened again and the staff left en masse, a small posse of people probably on their way to a curry house.

The door closed.

‘ Jacko should be leaving soon, then we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

Ten more minutes.

No Jacko.

‘ I don’t like this.’

‘ Perhaps he’s robbing the till.’

Rider ignored the remark. ‘I didn’t see the bouncers, either. They usually leave with everyone else.’

He nudged Henry. Both of them trotted across the road and into a high-walled alley which ran down one side and the rear of the club. They stuck to the building line and at the point where the alley took a right-angled turn, Rider pressed Henry and himself into a doorway.

‘ Two minutes here, just in case,’ Rider whispered into Henry’s good ear.

The rain continued to fall, straight down, like thin steel rods. Unrelenting. Cold.

For Henry the wait was interminable. He needed to lie down. Here would do, but preferably in a hospital bed with lots of nurses fawning over him.

Rider tugged his sleeve.

They stepped out of the doorway and almost immediately there was a scuffling noise and a cough behind them. Rider flattened himself against the wall, dragging the slow-witted Henry with him.

A man walked down the alley, back-lit by street lights. He had that peculiar stagger which denotes someone pissed out of their heads who firmly believes himself to be sober.

The man paused unsteadily in mid-step, looking in their direction, peering towards them in the gloom. He was ten feet away. Henry could smell the beer and spirits on the man’s breath.

The man unzipped his flies, turned to face the wall. With both hands he directed his urination up and down the wall, making fancy patterns. He belched, broke wind, then vomited through the arc of piss. He spat the remnants of the Chinese meal out and finished his bodily function. He shook the drops off and slid the member away.

Henry’s stomach turned.

The man wiped his mouth on his sleeve, turned and wandered happily back out of the alley, muttering something.

They let him go before moving again.

Rider located the gate which led into the back yard of the club. It was locked.

‘ We’ll have to go over.’