Read Concrete Evidence Online

Authors: Conrad Jones

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #International Mystery & Crime

Concrete Evidence (2 page)

“You have to give it to him though,” he joked, “he tried hard.”

“Too hard!”

“You could be a model though.” 

“I don’t think so but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My hero,” she said sarcastically. She clinked his glass and sipped the coke. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“Mike,” he smiled. “And you are?”

“Jayne with a ‘y’.”

“Nice to meet you, Jayne with a ‘y’.” They touched glasses again and she gulped the cold liquid down. The sporadic waves of dry ice had made her throat dry. “What do you do, Jayne?”

“Oh I don’t normally tell people that,” she giggled. “It puts people off.” She saw his smile disappear again. The mask slipped for a second. His eyes narrowed and for a second, he wasn’t as attractive. She didn’t want to lose his interest. “You first and then I’ll tell you what I do,” she relented.

“Okay then. I’m a student,” he grinned. His eyes smiled again and she melted under his gaze.

“A student?” she laughed.

“Yes. I’m a student.”

“A mature student,” she frowned and shook her head. “You must be thirty something?”

“Cheeky!” he tilted his head. “I’m a medical student now.” He left the sentence unfinished.

“What do you mean, ‘now’?”

“I was a police officer for four years but I had an urge to become a doctor so I quit and went back to school.” He shrugged as if it was nothing unusual to leave one career and jump into another.

“Wow, you gave up the force,” Jayne said impressed. She touched his glass with hers again and drank her coke thirstily. “Good for you!”

“Thank you. It was a tough decision but it was what I wanted to do.”

“I’m very impressed and that makes it much easier for me to tell you what I do.” She smiled. As they chatted, his eyes flashed in the strobe lights. She felt dreamy. She felt like she had known him forever. She felt safe. Although she felt a bit tired too. Tired and weak. It was getting late and it had been a long week. A cloud of dry ice engulfed them and the strobe made real time seem much slower.

“Easier for you how?” he frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“To tell you what I do,” she said. Her mouth felt a little odd. Her lips felt numb. “I don’t normally tell,” she explained. “Did I tell you that it puts people off?” she raised her eyebrows in question and noticed that they were struggling to move as normal. Her forehead felt awkward. ‘I wonder if that is what Botox feels like?’ she thought. Then she forgot the debate which was going on in her mind immediately. In fact, she forgot what she was thinking completely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”

“You mentioned something about it putting me off but I wouldn’t worry about putting me off,” he smiled. He put his hand on her arm, “Come on let’s dance.” Before she could speak, he had guided her to a spot not far away from where Jackie was dancing. The music drifted from one track to another, mingling into one deafening tune. At one point, Jackie had gyrated over to her and whispered something about a Porsche and a jet-ski, giggling like a schoolgirl and then she gyrated away just as fast as she had appeared. Jayne wasn’t the best dancer in the world but tonight she couldn’t keep her feet moving in time with the music at all. Mike held her hand, which reassured her somewhat. She could feel sweat trickling down her back. She had never perspired that much. The more she danced, the faster her blood pumped through her veins and the worse she felt. Another cloud of dry ice swallowed her and she closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep. The image of the Barton kid drifted into her mind. He was handcuffed and begging for help. A car crash victim from the month before flashed into her head, his brains dribbling down the windscreen. She felt sick and closed her eyes again to make the image disappear. When she opened them, the image was gone. The music seemed to warp from one genre to another, some she liked and some she hated but her legs would only maintain one beat. Left, right, left, right, left, right. ‘Rhythm is dancer’ boomed out. Her favourite tune but rhythm had deserted her. She felt like her heels were filled with concrete. Time merged with the music. She was trapped inside a bubble looking out. Everything else was outside her bubble in a different dimension. The strobe flickered faster and the world became a time lapse movie.  

Mike watched her intently. He looked concerned. His concern made her uneasy. Why was he concerned? He took her arm and she felt that she had floated back to the spot where they had been standing earlier. Her throat was dry. She picked up her empty glass and Mike replaced it with a fresh one. You don’t accept drinks from strangers, Jayne. Don’t you tell young girls that every day? Don’t you?

“You were telling me about your job?” Mike said in her ear.

Has he asked me that already? Maybe he hadn’t heard her. She tried to maintain control of her speech. “I don’t usually tell people because it puts them off,” she mumbled. She felt that she was repeating herself. “Have I said that already?” Her tongue felt alien in her mouth. Mike laughed and nodded his head patronisingly. Had she said that already or not? She questioned herself in her mind. “I don’t normally tell people but I think I’ll tell you.” She nodded thoughtfully.

“Oh, I see, well I’m very flattered,” he smiled. He seemed to be studying her as they spoke. That wasn’t odd for a doctor though was it, studying people? “Don’t keep me in suspense. What do you do?”

“JLS,” she said pointing to the dance floor. She was confused because she was sure Labyrinth had been booming out a second ago. She noticed that Jackie had gone. Was she lost in the fog of dry ice? Probably at the bar or in the toilet. She needed the toilet but her feet felt rooted to the sticky carpet. Sticky like congealing blood. Sticky like grey matter on glass.

“You like JLS?”

“What?”

“You were telling me what you do for a living, then you mentioned JLS,” he said confused. She listened to the music. The track was something completely different. Jackie still wasn’t dancing. If she had gone outside with that guy then she would never go out with her again. “Are you okay?” he added.

“I was gutted when they split up,” Jayne mumbled. She could hear her own voice but it sounded different. The revellers on the dance floor were thinning out. In fact, nearly everyone had gone. “They split up.”

“Really?” he nodded. He was still smiling but he looked concerned. At least she thought it was concern. “You were telling me what you do?”

“I’m a police officer too,” she mumbled. “Just like you are. Were, I mean.” She felt tired. “Well, I’m a Special Constable. At least for now anyway.” The smile disappeared from his face again. This time it had gone from his eyes too. She felt drunk which was impossible. She sniffed the empty coke glass but it had no odour. Could he have put vodka in her drink? He said he was a police officer for a while hadn’t he? Yes he had. Had he drugged her? Get a grip, Jayne, he was a police officer and now he’s a medical student.

“Which force were you with?” she asked. A lucid moment made her feel much better. She was just tired. Her voice seemed to echo around the club as she spoke. Echo around the club or your head? “Cheshire?”

“Merseyside,” he smiled.

“Oh wow,” she smiled. “Me too. What station where you at?” she asked in a whisper. At least she thought she’d asked him that. He didn’t seem to have heard her. She felt herself gliding across the dance floor. Her feet were moving without direction from her brain. She didn’t have any input into her movements. Rhythm is a dancer was playing again but no one was dancing anymore. The dance floor was empty and all the people were drifting towards the doors. Bouncers the size of grizzly bears stood around snarling at anyone who moved too slowly or still had a drink in their hand. Jayne was floating, being taken by an invisible current in a direction that she didn’t want to go. She had to get a grip. Something wasn’t right. She felt drunk. Chunks of time had simply disappeared. She felt that she was watching proceedings from behind glass. She wanted to bang on it and shout for help but she was mute. ‘Zombie, zombie, zombie nation’. The tune rattled in her ears.

Suddenly, she knew in her mind that she had been drugged. She turned to shout for help. Help. Help. Help. Her mind shouted but her voice didn’t work. She looked around and the world was dark. The club was gone. The people were gone. It was dark and she felt a sensation of motion. The vibration of an engine. There was a radio playing music. JLS? Or was that in the club? She couldn’t remember. Dull yellow light illuminated her mind at regular intervals. Darkness, yellow light, darkness, yellow light, darkness, yellow light. It reminded her of something from her childhood, red lorry, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lorry. She could never get the tongue twister right. What was she thinking before that? Where was she? Yellow light, darkness, yellow light, darkness, yellow light, darkness. Open your eyes Jayne or bad things are going to happen. She begged and pleaded with her brain. Work you bastard. Please work. Fight the drug, please fight it.

Jayne felt her eyelids twitch and then they opened to nothing more than slits. Streetlights raced by. Trees, houses, taxis, a big green bus. Yellow light, darkness, yellow light, darkness, yellow light, darkness. Her neck wouldn’t bear the weight of her head. She tried to look around and her head lolled uselessly as if she was a scarecrow with no sticks attached or a marionette with the head string cut. Cut. Cut. She didn’t want to be cut. She pushed the word from her mind but it kept coming back. The Barton kid sneered at her through the glass, wide eyed, tongue lolling from his black lips. Go away! She screamed in her head. She slammed a door closed in her mind and he was gone but she knew he was waiting on the other side eager to come back. Her eyes focused again. The stereo was like the one in her car. It was the same brand but in the wrong position. The steering wheel had a BMW logo on it just like hers. So did the gear stick. The driver had sunglasses on the dashboard. They were just like hers. They were next to some loose change and a packet of Polo mints. Jayne did that with her change too. And she kept Polo mints there but on the other side. Her car was the same. Same radio, same logo, same sunglasses, same Polo mints. The car smelled familiar. Except something was different. She looked again. It was her car but the perspective was from the passenger seat. She was sitting in the passenger seat of her car. How had she got there? Who was driving? Her chin was resting on her chest. She strained to see the driver’s face and as she focused, she felt a sob trapped in her chest. She felt hot stinging tears run from her eyes, tickling her skin as they rolled down her cheeks.

His head was bald. Huge tufts of white hair stuck out from above his ears. Like a mad professor. The nose was hooked and the eyes were sunken but unnaturally so. The mouth was fixed into an evil grin. She recognised the face from somewhere. Somewhere from her childhood and it frightened her. It wasn’t real. It was a rubber mask. It had frightened her as a little girl and it still frightened her.

“You’re awake?” he rasped but the mouth didn’t move. It was rubber. Just like the mask he was wearing. Why would you wear a mask? “That’s good. We’re nearly at your place.” Jayne wanted to scream until her lungs burst but nothing happened. A tiny sob escaped her lips. “Have you got the back door keys?” the voice asked. He seemed to be looking in the rear view mirror. She hoped that he was worried about being followed. Worried about the police. She sensed someone moving behind her but she couldn’t be sure. My house keys are on the car keys, she thought. She was frightened and confused. Darkness clawed at her, threatening to drag her down into unconsciousness. There would be no escaping danger there, no rest, no peace. She could sense evil nearby. It was an inky black pit. She didn’t want to go down there. Please, God help me, she thought but he didn’t.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

             
Detective Annie Jones shivered as she climbed out of her Audi. The wind was blowing through the trees, which bordered the garden of a three bedroom detached house. Oak, ash and elm stood strong against the gusts although their golden leaves were starting to fall forming piles of rotting foliage against the kerb stones and the walls of the house. The well manicured lawn was dotted with shifting spots of gold. Each time the wind blew, the patterns changed shape. Each gust made her good eye water blurring her vision. Her eye patch had been causing a skin irritation lately and she had reluctantly started using a prosthetic, which she hated. It left her feeling vulnerable and naked. Her patch gave her comfort somehow. A physical covering up of the terrible injury she had sustained at the hands of a murder suspect four years prior. A lapse of concentration, and a biro in the hands of the wrong person became a weapon. Her eye was destroyed and her face was changed in a moment. The memory was as sharp as if it had happened yesterday. She still couldn’t leave a pen on a desk.

 

The wind whistled through the branches once more chilling her exposed skin. It hinted at the cold winter months ahead. She had tied her dark bob into a ponytail to combat the wind and her decision to opt for faded jeans and Ugg boots was the right one. She pulled her quilted jacket tightly to her neck and wiped a tear from her good eye as she looked towards the house.   

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