Nightmare City Read Free Page A

six
newsagents in the last nine weeks, all in the Fylde area of
Lancashire. They were getting to be a real headache for the police
who had warned that it was only matter of time before someone got
killed.
    ‘ Mmm, sounds like,’ Henry agreed.
    ‘ And apparently it looks like they blagged another shop in
Fleetwood before doing this one.’
    ‘ Oh?’ Henry perked up. ‘Where did you hear that?’
    Luton cocked his thumb at the female officer who’d been first
on the scene. ‘Just came over the PR when I was chatting to
her.’
    ‘ Any details?’
    ‘ Round about seven-ten, seven-fifteen. A newsagents.
Discharged a shotgun, but no one got shot. Helped themselves to the
contents of the till, seven hundred quid or so. Usual MO. Usual
dress. Same lot, I’d say.’
    ‘ Then they’ve been busy,’ commented Henry. He considered what
Luton had told him. His eyes narrowed while his brain chewed it
over. ‘Hang on . . . like normal, they rob a shop and fire the
shotgun, like they’ve done on every job, then they tear-arse eight
miles down the road like shit off a shovel to do this one? They
steal money from up there, like they normally do, yet murder
everybody in sight here - and apparently leave all the cash in the
till. Fucking odd, if you ask me. And if that guy in the body
armour really is a cop, what the fuck was he up to?’ Henry shook his head.
‘I’m not saying it’s not possible, Degsy, but. . .’
    Several cars were pulling up outside. Henry’s boss, a
Detective Chief Inspector, got out of one; the others disgorged a
mixture of policemen including Detective Chief Superintendent
Robert Fanshaw-Bayley, known colloquially as FB, Head of Lancashire
CID, and Brian Warner, Assistant Chief Constable
(Operations).
    Henry’s gaze returned to Luton. ‘Looks like the circus has
arrived and here come the clowns. Let’s give’ em what we’ve got and
retire with good grace. I doubt if I’ll be involved in this
investigation, which is a shame. Looks like being a juicy one. But
you might get a shot. I’ll see what I can do.’
     

Chapter Two

    Henry and Luton spent another two hours at the scene before
finally handing everything over and returning to Blackpool Central
to book off duty.
    Henry was correct: he would not be forming part of the team
assembled to investigate the murders. He’d been told by FB to
continue with the reactive CID work which was his normal job. This
was no surprise. Someone had to hold the fort. Other crimes did not
stop being committed and they had to be dealt with. In truth he did
not mind too much. As Acting DI he had the responsibility for
running the CID office whilst the real DI was off sick. Henry
intended to apply for promotion later in the year; his proven
ability to manage a busy department was something positive to tell
the Board.
    Luton, however, was told he would be going on the squad. Henry
smiled when he saw the young detective’s reaction. Although he had
been involved in a couple of domestic murders and one night-club
stabbing, this was Luton’s first major enquiry. Henry was pleased
for him. It would be invaluable experience.
    Henry patted him on the back and congratulated him. Inside he
was envious. Having been on many major murder enquiries himself, he
knew what a real buzz it was to be part of such a team.
    In the car on the way back to the office, Henry asked Luton to
keep him abreast of all developments. Luton promised he
would.
    Back at Blackpool, Henry declined Luton’s offer of a quick
drink in the club on the top floor. He wanted to get home, shower,
put his feet up and watch Match of the
Day with the assistance of a large Jack
Daniel’s and his wife, Kate.
    Luton waved good night and left. Henry was alone in the
deserted office. He sat down at his desk and quickly shuffled
through the mountain of paperwork and scanned the array of yellow
post-it stickers which desecrated his desk top. There was nothing
that couldn’t wait.
    Yawning, stretching, he stood up