Grave Intention: Intention series, #2

PROLOGUE

Fearfully, Charles Dugan searched his dark proximity. One tiny bulb, mounted way up high from a beam in the centre, lit the cavernous warehouse. To a stranger, it would appear to be empty, but Charles knew that Hawley, his adversary, never showed up anywhere without his boys.

Again, he gulped down the bile tickling his throat as he took one tentative step, then another, towards the light. Hawley had definitely put his trademark intimidation tactics to work. Charles’s stomach churned with the Italian meal he’d bolted down at lunchtime, and he took another few steps, regretting—not for the first time—ever getting involved with Hawley and his gang.

A rasping noise off to his left alerted him to movement. Although he had no inclination what it was, he could hazard a guess. He wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth, to hold back the scream desperate for release. However, before he had the chance, two sets of strong arms grabbed him from behind and forced him to the ground. Lying face down, Dugan realised struggling would be pointless. A pair of polished black shoes came to a standstill in front of him, a mere ten inches from his nose. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact.

Get him up.

Charles felt his six-foot frame being lifted and then lowered abruptly into the waiting chair, which sat alongside the light, just like in a torture scene from a movie about the CIA. All right, Larry? he asked, trying to disguise his rising hysteria.

Hawley bent down, and Charles could feel the warmth of the man’s breath against his cheek when he sneered. I will be, when I get what’s owing to me, scumbag.

Charles gulped noisily. Ah, about that…

"Don’t bother giving me any more of your useless bullshit, Dugan. This has been going on for weeks now, and I’m at the end of my tether. No more delays. No more ‘just give me another few days to come up with your money’ shit. Your time’s up. Today is the deadline we both agreed on. Am I right?"

When Charles didn’t answer immediately, one of Hawley’s men punched the back of his head. Jolted into action, he replied, Yes, that’s what we agreed.

So? Where’s my money?

Charles stared at Hawley, agog.

Lost the use of your tongue, have you? Hawley nodded, switching his gaze to one of the men standing behind Charles.

Charles prepared himself for a beating. Terrified, he shouted, No! Wait. I’ll get it to you by the end of the week. I promise.

Not good enough. We had an agreement, Charlie boy, and you’ve reneged on that. Now it’s time to pay…‌with your life, if need be.

A fist hit one side of his head, then a second blow hit the other before Hawley raised his hand to stop the onslaught. Wait. I’ve just had an idea.

An ominous silence descended over the group. Charles closed his eyes. From past encounters with the notorious gang, he had a feeling what Hawley was going to say next.

How’s Mrs. Dugan and the little ’un? What’s her name now? Ah, yes, Peaches. She must be all of thirteen now, yes?

"They’re nothing to do with this. Larry, I’d rather keep them out of this. I swear I’ll get you your money. I’m begging you not to hurt my family. Your gripe is with me, not them."

And you think you’re in a position to barter for either their lives, or yours? Hawley spat at him, his eyes bulging with contempt. He swivelled on the heels of his expensive shoes, turned his back on Charles, and strode off into the darkness. His footsteps echoed to a dull thud before a door slammed.

Charles knew that his life was about to change—how, he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe he would know more once Hawley’s men had finished with him—if he survived the imminent thrashing.

Behind him, metal jangled. He turned and instantly wished he’d kept his inquisitiveness in check. His face took the brunt of the force of the heavy chain. The blow sent him reeling to the ground.

That’s sure to improve his looks, the one known as Tiny joked. Both men laughed as Charles spat out the teeth that had rattled loose in his mouth. His lips swelled up straightaway. He swiped a hand across his mouth and gasped when he saw the amount of blood covering the back of his hand.

He needed to try to buy some time. Convincing the men it would be in their best interest not to pummel him to a pulp was imperative. Come on, boys, we can come to some sort of arrangement now your boss has gone. What do you say?

The other goon who went by the name of Sloath answered him with a kick in the gut. "You know what, arsehole? Deals like that are the ones that got you in this mess in the first place. You better shut your mouth if you know what’s good for you. Take your punishment like a true man, not the snivelling shit the boss thinks you are."

Charles knew arguing with the thugs would be a waste of breath. He clamped his mouth shut, closed his eyes to block out the smirks on the gorillas’ faces, and took the punishment Hawley had ordered them to mete out, like a man.

After the ten-minute thrashing he could barely move. The men homed in on his lower back and kicked the shit out of it. Pain erupted at several points throughout his body. He recognised immediately that several bones were broken, among them a rib or two, and his right arm. He even feared that his kidney wouldn’t be salvageable.

Dazed and on the verge of drifting into unconsciousness, he could only plead for his family’s safety. Please, don’t hurt them…

The men’s crazed laughter echoed around him as the blackness descended. Whether he would wake up from the spiralling darkness, he had no idea.

CHAPTER ONE

Smiling, Ellen watched her nephews messing about on the newly erected trampoline in her brother’s back garden. They’re naturals, aren’t they?

Suzie, Ellen’s sister-in-law, was sitting in the chair next to Ellen, sipping her Pimms and lemonade, a proud grin lighting up her pretty face. You know what? It’s so nice to see them out in the fresh air for a change. Sometimes, I wish Jim had never bought them the darn Xbox. They don’t get nearly as much exercise as they should do.

I agree. I bet thousands of families around the country wish the same thing.

I’m glad we invested in the trampoline with the net surround. I think we’d have a few broken bones to contend with otherwise.

They both laughed as Ellen’s brother, Jim, joined them with a stern face. I’ve been called into work. Don’t give me that look, hon. I think it’s going to be a big case. He leaned over and kissed Suzie on the lips.

What about the barbecue? Suzie asked, disappointed.

It’s all prepared. I’ll fire it up before I leave. Ellen can do the cooking for a change.

What? Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin. First of all, that monstrous device happens to frighten the crap outta me, she complained, pointing at the stainless steel gas barbecue her brother had treated himself to in the end-of-season sale the previous September. And second, you wouldn’t thank me if your family ended up in hospital with salmonella, would you?

Jim pulled a confused face, and she sensed a witty riposte coming her way.

But salmon isn’t on the menu, Sis.

Jim chuckled and was already halfway to the back door before Ellen caught up with him. She jumped on his back the way she used to when they were kids and flicked the back of his ears as punishment.

Ouch! You know I hate that, Jim whined, sounding more like one of his kids rather than the twenty-nine-year-old, hard-man copper he actually was.

The kids shouted for their dad to retaliate. He tipped backwards so that Ellen ended up buried beneath him. Fits of laughter broke out. Ellen had prepared herself for the fall—it was the only way he could ever shake her off.

They both stood and dusted themselves off. Look, I’ve got to go. Just this once, will you please attempt to cook for my family?

Crap, if I must. What’s the case?

A fire out in Malvern.

Ellie frowned. Really? You don’t usually get called out to them, do you?

Not unless it’s suspicious. Hey, I can’t hang around here all day chatting, much as I’d love to.

Go on. You go. I’ll start up the barbecue. The instructions are all in the manual, aren’t they?

They are. Suzie will show you where they are. Won’t you, love?

Suzie nodded and waved goodbye. Go. We’ll muddle through.

I’ll check in later. Damn, I was looking forward to sampling that new marinade I soaked the filet steaks in. Have fun, everyone.

We’ll be sure to save you some, Ellie called after him. Don’t count on any wine being saved, though.

Same old, same old, her brother shouted back before the front door closed.

I’m dying to know what that’s all about, Ellie said when she re-joined Suzie at the table.

He’ll let us know when he gets back. We better get ‘the beast’ fired up. Otherwise, Jim won’t be the only one going without dinner.

Ellie and Suzie left the boys having fun on the trampoline and went inside to track down the instructions for the beast. With the half-inch-thick booklet in hand, Ellie stepped back into the garden and tried to follow the instructions. A full fifteen minutes later, she managed to locate the button to ignite the damn thing. Her frustrations got the better of her, and her good mood had dwindled. She went back inside the house. What say we cheat and grill the steaks in here instead?

Suzie laughed. We could always rub some charcoal over the steaks before we grill them to give them that authentic barbecue flavour.

Ellen held out her hand, and Suzie shook it. Done. Now we just need to find a way of getting the boys not to snitch on us.

Ah, that’ll be the sticking point. We better fess up the minute he gets back before the boys get to him.

If we must. Ellen gave a dejected shrug. Either way, I’m just glad I’m here and not back at home today.

I thought things were working out fine with your new housemate.

Oh, they are with Sasha. It’s her boyfriend crashing virtually every night that’s annoying the hell out of me.

Did she run that past you before you entered into the house-share agreement?

Nope. Most of the time, I can put up with it. Although he’s a right slob where the bathroom is concerned, he’s quite handy in the kitchen. Lucas is a chef. It’s the night-time activities I object to, really. I’m not joking when I say they’re at it at all hours. If there was an Olympic sport for the bedroom activities, they’d win, hands down.

Suzie laughed. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t laugh, but…

Hey, I don’t blame you for laughing, if someone else had to deal with their gymnastic sex, I’d be hysterical with laughter about it, too. However, when I’m only getting about two or three hours kip a night, it’s beyond a joke.

Have you spoken to them about it? Suzie asked, her smile slipping.

I wish I could summon up the right words. ‘Do you mind stop screwing at night? Your insatiable sexual appetites are keeping me awake.’ Somehow, I don’t think that will go down too well, do you?

You have a point. Hey, they might even invite you to join in.

Ellen’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. Christ, I hope not. I think I’d die if ever that subject reared its ugly head. Ew… Ellen shuddered at the thought.

Maybe have a quiet word with Sasha when she’s on her own one day.

Maybe. Enough of this doom and gloom—I’m starving. I bet the boys are ravenous, as well, after all that bouncing.

Ellen took the steaks out of the fridge, and one by one, she placed them into the sizzling griddle pans on the stove. Using her forefinger and thumb, she treated the meat as if it were contaminated with a deadly disease. I hate handling raw meat.

Suzie laughed. With a glint in her eye, she said, I thought we had changed the subject.

Ha, ha. Very funny.

Eventually, their so-called barbecue was ready to serve. After clearing up the kitchen, Ellen decided to leave her sister-in-law and the boys to their nightly bath-time ritual and venture home, apprehensive about what her housemate and her boyfriend would be up to when she got there.

She made a point of slamming the front door when she entered, and the recognisable sound of giggling coming from Sasha’s bedroom ceased immediately. As she sat down on the couch in the living room, she noticed she had a message from her partner at the Worcester Missing Persons Hotline on her mobile phone.

She called him back. Hi, Brian. You rang?

He exhaled a deep breath. Have you seen the news?

What news? In the paper or on TV?

On the TV. It’s on the local news.

What is? Give me a hint, hon?

There’s an ongoing fire raging out of control in Malvern.

Oh, that. Yeah, Jim got a call to attend the scene.

That’s strange. Why Jim? Brian asked.

Not sure. Something about it being suspicious. Ellen fiddled with the remote control and turned on the ITV news, which was showing a story about some of the local teachers being on strike, wanting a pay rise of sorts to come in line with inflation—the usual thing. Once the VT had finished, the newsreader recapped the breaking news of the fire. Holy crap! That place is huge. Do you know who owns it?"

An ex-banker by the name of Charles Dugan. That’s what the reporter is saying. Do you fancy taking a trip out there?

Er…‌why?

Er…‌’cause I’ve got nothing better to do, and I’m going out of my mind with boredom.

Ellen looked up at the ceiling. The increasing momentum of squeaking bed springs during her housemate’s workout helped her make up her mind. What the heck. Do you want to pick me up?

Yeah, I was hoping you’d say that. I’m dying to clap eyes on your housemate.

You’re in for a disappointment there, matey. She’s upstairs at the moment with her fella. I reckon it won’t be long before she starts swinging from the chandelier.

After a moment’s silence, Brian snorted. Oh, I get it. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

I’ll be at the top of the road, waiting for you.

That bad, eh? Brian laughed before he hung up.

Ellen gathered her handbag and coat. Yeah, it’s that bad, she grumbled under her breath as she walked out the front door and trotted up the road. As she passed the row of terraced houses, a strange thought entered her mind. I wonder how many other couple are at it right now on a Sunday afternoon. Was her life that miserable that what others were up to on their days off should be her primary concern?

Brian tooted his horn as he pulled up. Ellen jumped in the passenger seat, and they set off on the twenty-minute trip out to the Malverns—her favourite spot to accompany her father on their days off before he’d died a few years ago.

When they arrived, the road had already been cordoned off, and four uniformed police were patrolling the area to keep rubberneckers at bay.

Hi, Sam. How’s Tracy? Ellen asked the young copper, whom she used to work with on the West Mercia Police Force.

Ellen, long time, no see. Yeah, Tracy and the baby are doing great, thanks. What brings you out here?

She crossed her fingers in the hope that the lie she was about to tell wouldn’t come back to bite her in the arse. Jim called me. I’m here to offer my advice.

Sam smiled and raised the tape so she and Brian could duck under. Yeah, I saw Jim milling around here earlier. I think he’s around the back. It would be best if you went that way. The officer pointed to where the flames seemed less out of control.

Cheers, Sam. Good luck being a new daddy. I hear it’s major hard work. Brian here can vouch for that.

I’m sure we’ll cope. I’ll give Tracy your regards.

Brian fell into step beside her. Once the PC was out of earshot, he said, Neat work. I’m impressed. Perhaps I can start coming out in the field more with you?

Puzzled, Ellen turned to face him. But you don’t like getting your hands dirty. Right from the outset, you’ve said that your strengths lie back at the office, as the ‘office geek’—your words, not mine.

Yeah, but I’ve been thinking. After that Endersbe case, and the fieldwork I did with Jim to rescue you from that Fallon bloke—well, it got my adrenaline pumping. Maybe we could employ someone else to do the office side of things. I could still lend a hand with any necessary research, but I think the time has come for me to join you out in the field. I’d much rather be doing that than keeping my seat warm back at the office, anyway.

Ellen stopped walking and stared at him. Nothing much got past her. Now wait just a minute. Cut the bullshit, Brian. It sounds to me like you’re talking about babysitting me.

The colour rose in her partner’s cheeks. No. I wouldn’t put it quite like that.

Ellen stomped off and mumbled under her breath, One mistake—one lousy mistake—and you’re going to punish me for the rest of my life.

Brian pulled her arm and spun her around to face him. It’s not that. I swear it’s not, Ellen.

Then what is it? she snapped back. Brian’s face contorted while he tried to come up with a feasible excuse. Before he had a chance to offer one, she clicked her fingers together. "It’s Jim, isn’t it? He’s put you up to this, hasn’t he?"

No.

Don’t lie to me. She stormed off again and shouted over her shoulder, I haven’t got time for this now. We’ll thrash it out later. I’ll guarantee you that, partner.

This time, she sensed Brian knew not to bother trying to catch her up, and his footsteps laboured behind her.

Don’t you dare feel guilty about speaking to him like that! He had it coming after doubting your abilities.

Ellen spotted Jim in the crowd of emergency crew in front of her and strode towards him. She tapped him on the shoulder. Have you managed to find out anything yet?

What are you doing here? Her brother’s gaze fell to her partner standing a few feet behind her. Brian?

"Yeah, it’s all his fault. Nice for me to be able to pass the buck sometimes. Bri, saw it on the news and wanted to come take a look. You haven’t answered my question. Found anything yet?"

Jim shook his head, more in recognition that arguing with his elder sister was pointless than in answer to her question. The fire is still too intense for the fire crews to go in using their breathing apparatus. They’re trying to focus on dowsing the flames down enough in that section over there in order to gain access to the building. I overheard one of the firemen saying that the stables out the back are also on fire.

No, really? I hope there weren’t any horses in there.

Jim pulled a face. Yeah, there were. They’re all dead.

Brian joined them and stood alongside Ellen. Damn, that’s tough, he said. Any news on the family? Were they at home when the fire broke out?

We’ve yet to determine that, Brian. I sure hope not. The early report from the officer in charge is that he thinks some kind of accelerant was used.

That would explain why the fire took hold so quickly, Ellen replied.

How do you know that? Jim frowned.

It was on the news. Who’s to say whether that’ll turn out to be the truth or not?

Well, I’m sure we’ll get the lowdown on the circumstances behind the blaze soon enough. Let’s hope if there is anyone inside that these guys rescue them soon.

I think it’s too late for that. Ellen crossed her arms, resting against the car behind her as she watched another section of the burning building collapse. The noise of the rubble hitting the ground made her jump.

•     •     •

With a heavy heart and hot tears streaming down his face, Dugan hid behind a tree, watching the fire devastate the home he had shared with his wife since the birth of their beautiful fourteen-year-old daughter, Peaches. He’d been hiding in the same spot for more than an hour, observing the flames lick through every room of his treasured mansion. His wife, who was a former interior designer, had lovingly and tastefully decorated each room. Every time the fire engulfed another wall, fresh tears flowed from his already painfully sore eyes.

How had it come to this? He regretted the nights he’d sat around a poker table, frittering away thousands, which had quickly turned into millions, of pounds. What sort of man did that to his family? What kind of man put his own flesh and blood through the torment of going from having millions tucked away in their bank accounts to scrabbling around for pennies overnight? At least, that was how it seemed. In truth, he’d been gambling, with mixed success, for almost a year. But poor Tina had no knowledge of the fact. Every time she returned from hunting for the latest designer outfits to put on her credit card,