Chapter 53
617 Words
53
‘Put the knife down, sir. You’re in a police station,’ Liz Shipton called from behind the front desk. She’d been trained to know how to deal with a situation like this, but it wasn’t something she’d expected to see.
In the case of someone kicking off in reception, there was a button which would alert officers around the station, summoning them for assistance. This wasn’t an option Liz wanted to take in this instance. Any sign of a commotion and the man could plunge the knife into DS Knight’s neck within a millisecond.
Officers were often reminded how to deal with situations such as these. The current terrorism threat level meant they were always hyper-aware of what to do should someone enter a police station or public area and take a hostage or threaten to blow themselves up. Going in all guns blazing just wouldn’t do.
But if Liz pushed the panic button there would be the best part of a dozen officers in the room within a couple of seconds, and she had no way of knowing how the man would react to that. She decided, within a fraction of a second, that gentle negotiation might be the only way to save DS Knight’s life.
‘I know where I am,’ the man replied. ‘And I know who this b***h is, too.’
‘John, you don’t need to do anything silly,’ Wendy said, her voice sounding strained and nervous.
‘Yeah? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shove this knife right through your f*****g neck,’ he sneered, alcohol fumes making Wendy blink and retch.
‘Because you don’t need to,’ she said, struggling to stay calm and not get Lucas any more agitated than he already was. ‘Is this because we interviewed you over Freddie Galloway’s death?’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Lucas said, unconvincingly. ‘All my life I’ve been shat on. Everywhere I turn, every time something is going well in my life, you lot turn up and piss on my f*****g bonfire. And I’m sick of it!’
Lucas’s voice raised to a shout, and Wendy felt a small trickle of blood start to run down the side of her neck as the increased pressure from the blade pierced the skin.
‘Do you have any idea what that’s like? That f*****g i***t turning up at Trenton-Lowe. You lot have never forgiven me for that. You never will. I didn’t ask him to come, did I? That was his own bloody fault. Then Galloway f****d us all over and swanned off to his bloody mansion while I rotted in jail. And then what happens? Someone does what we’ve all wanted to do and burns his house to the ground, on the day I get out of f*****g prison! Well, what do you know? Your lot are round at my door again. I was a free man for not even twenty-four hours, and you’ve got me back in a cell. ‘Cos you just can’t get over it, can you? You can’t get over the fact that your mate was stupid enough to turn up on his own that night. So at every chance you get, you’re going to try to make sure I suffer.’
‘That’s not true, John,’ Wendy said.
‘How’d all that s**t get in my garage, hmm? Who put it there? Was it you or the fat one?’
‘John, we know you didn’t kill Freddie Galloway. We know you didn’t set fire to his house.’
‘Oh yeah? Don’t give me that bollocks. I know you’ve been sniffing around still. The bloody cleaner told me you’d been round again, so don’t give me that.’
‘It’s true,’ Wendy said, her voice shaking as she started to feel the pain of the blade inside her raw flesh. ‘We know you’ve been set up, John. And we know who by.’
Lucas stayed silent for a moment, seeming to consider this. ‘Go on then,’ he said, eventually. ‘Who?’
‘Put the knife down and I’ll tell you, John. It’s something we need to discuss properly.’
Lucas snorted and used his left hand to yank Wendy’s hair back.
‘Wrong answer,’ he said, as he shoved the knife into her neck.
- Writer
