Blood Snooker (Part 3)
Title: Blood Snooker (Part 3)
Author: Jeannie
Word Count: 2,819
Rating: Bluey/brown Cortina
Summary: The mass murderer has stuck again, now the team must step up their search to find them.
Sam walked hurriedly through the front doors of the station, looking over his shoulder occasionally to check he wasn’t being followed. Ever since the incident last night, he’d been slightly twitchy. He’d practically run past The Railway Arms this morning, his eyes searching all the dark alleyways for signs of his attackers. He hadn’t looked in the mirror, for fear of seeing bruises; he just had to hope that if he had any, no one would notice.
He walked quickly past the office, avoiding Phyllis’ searching gaze and hurried through the door, that led towards CID. He clutched the pathologist’s report close to his chest as he hurried along the corridors, trying not to bump into anyone in his haste to reach the safety of CID.
“Sam?” He sighed as he heard Annie’s voice sound from behind him, he turned to see her watching him curiously.
“What happened to you last night?” She asked, walking closer to him a small smile on her face.
“Had to stay to pick up the pathologist’s report.” He gestured to the report in his hand, and smiled back at her. Suddenly her smile faded and her eyes narrowed, her gaze had gone from his eyes to his neck.
“Sam, what’s that on your neck?” His eyes widened in shock for a minute, before he put a hand up and felt the tender flesh. That stupid thug had managed to bruise his neck!
“Oh it’s nothing.” He said, trying to sound casual but he knew that Annie would see past it. She had a knack of picking up on things that others missed, when something was wrong she seemed to be able to sense it. Thankfully just before she could ask him any questions, the door to CID banged open and Chris came hurrying out.
“Uhr, boss?”
“Yes Chris?”
“The Guv wants ya.”
“Oh joy. Sorry Annie, the monster calls.” He flashed her another quick smile, before he hurried off towards Gene’s office. As he walked past the desks, most of them empty, he braced himself for what he may encounter in there. He could be getting the bollocking of a lifetime, or he could be praised for something. Sometimes the man was unreadable, which was desperately annoying when you wanted to find out if you were going to be slammed up against a wall or get given a pint.
Soon he reached the door, pushed it open cautiously and walked into the office. Gene was sat in his chair, with his feet on the desk no doubt crumpling some important papers.
“You wanted to see me, Guv?” He asked, managing to keep his voice level and calm. Gene turned to look at him, his green eyes cold and unnerving.
“You got that pathologists report?”
“Yeah,” He walked towards the desk and laid the report next to his DCI’s feet, “Basically most of the victims were tortured before they were killed. Although I think that the killer liked the psychological torture better than the actually physical kind.” Gene lifted his feet off the desk, and picked up the report and flicked through it slowly. When he said nothing, Sam decided to fill in the silence with what he’d gathered.
“The torture seems to vary for the two sexes, it’s as if he’s trying to be a gentleman.”
“Whilst torturing them.”
“Yes. The men have more substantial bruising on their chests, arms and faces. Whereas the women only have bruises on their arms and faces. The pathologists things the bruises on the arms could be from the killer dragging them around, or just from ropes.”
“So we’re assuming that the killer’s male.” Sam paused for a moment, his brain working furiously. It would make sense that the killer was male, because of the two different forms of attacks. But it could equally be a man-hating feminist, who didn’t really want to hurt women. No that didn’t make sense.
“Yes, for now.”
“Good,” Sam looked up at Gene quickly, his eyes questioning. “Means Peterson’s still a suspect.”
“Gene, Peterson isn’t a suspect. He’s a guy some dodgy snout…” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Gene was up, round his desk and pinning him against the nearest filing cabinet.
“Can you jus’ for once, not go against me?” Gene snarled at him, his teeth bared and his hands tight on Sam’s jacket.
“But Guv we’ve got no evidence, we can’t link anyone to the crime! No one at all!” Gene’s hands loosened slightly, and Sam lowered his gaze to the floor. He hated to be the one to say this, to bring everyone back to reality, but if he wasn’t the one to do it then no one would and this team would go around locking up any random person they didn’t like for crimes that they could not possibly have committed.
“Well at least we can try eh, Tyler?” Gene let go and stepped back, his fury gone. Sam looked up at him and nodded slightly, this seemed to perk Gene up and soon he was back round his desk and grabbing his coat.
“Alrigh’, you and me Tyler, we’re gunna find ourselves a killer.”
XXXXXXXXX
“So…uhr boss, what d’ya call this again?”
“It’s called surveillance, Chris, we’ve done it before.”
“Oh yeah, sorry boss.” Sam felt a small smirk begin to form, so he bit his lip to stop it from spreading. Now all he had to do was focus on the job in hand, watch Peterson and find out what he was up to. Yes the Guv had got his way, and now they were sat in Ray’s poor excuse for a car, waiting for the man to leave his factory and go home. Sam highly doubted that they’d actually find anything incriminating, but sometimes you never know. Ray was sat in the driver’s seat, and Gene was sat next to him, his fingers tapping an annoying rhythm on the windowsill. Chris was sat next to Sam in the back, and was staring at the factory before him as though it was going to burst into flames at any minute.
“So Gladys, this the only way we’re gunna catch him out?” Gene asked casually, finally stopping his infernal tapping and turning to look at Sam. Ray snorted slightly, but kept his face turned towards the factory.
“Yes Guv, we’ve gotta catch him in the act, of…well some kind of criminal activity.” Gene grunted, and turned back to watch the factory door. Suddenly the door banged open and a young man was thrown down the stairs, and landed in a heap on the floor. All four coppers sat up straighter, and waited for the man’s attacker to appear. Two other men walked casually down the steps, until they were next to the young man on the floor. Sam’s eyes narrowed slightly, as he took in the scene before him.
“Guv?” Ray said quietly, his hand on the door handle ready to spring into action. Gene was staring at the two men, waiting for something. Soon enough the DCI saw whatever he was waiting for, and he opened the door of the little car and clambered out. Ray, Chris and Sam followed suit and soon they were striding purposefully towards the three men. As they drew nearer they could hear the voices of the two men, who were now leering over the younger man.
“You don’t question the boss, right? You may be new ‘ere, but you need to learn the ropes mate!”
“Well what ‘ave we got ‘ere, then?” Gene said loudly, as they walked up behind the two bruisers. As they turned to face the coppers, Sam had a flash back to last night where he’d been almost throttled. He blinked, trying to force the memory away but it kept surfacing, making the scene around him vanish.
“Oh, hello Mr. Hunt. Just showing this lad, the ropes like.”
“Oh yeah, shoving ‘im down the stairs is showing ‘im the ropes, is it?” Gene asked casually, his fingers in his belt hoops.
“Jus’ a bit of fun, Mr. Hunt.” Sam finally managed to push the memory aside, but his hand flew to his neck and he rubbed at the bruise there. One of the men spotted him, and smirked. Gene noticed the interaction and shot a curious look between the two, Sam hurriedly dropped his hand to his side.
“Yeah well, get back inside.” The two men eyed each copper in turn, their eyes lingering on Sam for just a fraction too long before they slowly moved back up the steps. The minute they were out of earshot Sam piped up,
“Why didn’t you arrest them Guv? That’s assault!” Gene ignored him, and walked towards the poor man. He was one of the immigrant workforce, and was lying shivering on the floor. When Gene reached the man he squatted down and put a hand on his arm, the man shifted away quickly fear evident in his eyes. Sam took this as his cue to come forwards, so he slowly made his way towards Gene. When he reached the two of them she squatted down next to his DCI,
“Are you okay?” He asked softly,
“Y…yes…pl..please…l…leave.” Sam’s eyes grew concerned, but Gene had had enough.
“Fine then, we will. Come on Tyler.” Sam ignored Gene, and continued to talk to the man.
“You don’t have to put up with that, we can help you!” The man’s eyes watched him, and he opened his mouth to speak,
“P…please j…just leave.” Sam watched him for a moment longer, before he nodded and reluctantly moved away. He could see Ray and Chris already stood by the car, bickering about something. Sam wasn't in the mood to put up with another, sibling-like quarrel. Right now he just wanted to get back to the station, and find this ruddy murderer.
“So boss, we finished with the surveillance thing?” Ray asked as Sam drew nearer to them,
“Yeah, Ray. Those two know we’re here now, no point sticking around. Where’s the Guv?” Sam turned around on the spot, trying to see where Gene was. As if by magic Gene appeared by the side of the car, his face a mask of stone.
“Well that was a ruddy waste of time.”
“No, Guv it wasn’t.”
“Oh yeah, mind enlightening me eh Sammy-boy?” Sam sighed and lent his arms on the top of Ray's car; he didn’t want to tell Gene but knew that it’d come out anyway.
“Those two guys over there,” He pointed to the alleyway they had just vacated, “I’ve seen them before, they ‘hinted’ to me that investigating this case may prove fatal. I think we’ve got something on Peterson.” Gene’s eyes lit up, and a small smile played across his face.
“That’ a boy!”
XXXXXXXXX
“Doctor?”
“I think Sam’s ready for us to start the stimulant. Are you ready nurse?”
“Yes. Are you sure his heart will be able to cope?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Sam, you’ve got to hang in there, we may have you back with us very shortly.”
“The injection’s ready."
Sam woke suddenly, his arms shooting out into the air as he tried to fend off invisible attackers. As he opened his eyes, and saw that he was back in his horrible, grungy flat he sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. From what he could tell the doctors were now going to give him the bloody stimulant, and then who knows what would happen! He could be fine, and wake up to a hospital bed with his mum and Maya around him or he could, like last time, be as high as a kite.
Slowly Sam got up, dressed and moved into the kitchen to make breakfast. He grabbed some bread from a small bread tin on the counter, and began to butter it. Before he’d even managed to make a decent meal, there was a bang on the door. He closed his eyes briefly; he was not in the mood to deal with Gene just yet.
Yesterday they’d pulled Peterson in for questioning, and the smug bastard had just sat there denying everything. In the end they’d had to let him go, and off he’d gone back to his factory. Gene had not been happy, and his mood had not improved when they’d got a call telling them that one of the workers from Peterson’s factory had been found dead by the canal a few minutes ago.
They’d made their way over there, and found the body to belong to the guy they’d tried to help earlier. The poor man had been beaten and then hit over the head with a long, blunt object. From then on Gene had been in his office, scoring old case reports and every file about Peterson that he could lay his hands on. Sam had refused to enter the office, because he knew that the Guv wouldn’t enjoy his company and he’d end up with a few new bruises.
At the end of the day most of CID had gone off to the pub to drown their sorrows, and only Sam and Annie had been left in the office to go through all the old reports. Thankfully they’d found something, one little connection, which might help. Both of the murders consisted of torture, and although the weapon of choice varied all bodies were hit over the head at least once. It wasn’t much, but at least it was a start. Now all they had to do was try and find those goons from the other day, then see if they have anything to say. Simple.
The knocking on the door persisted, and soon Sam found that he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He moved towards the door and opened it, expecting to see the figure of his DCI behind the door. Except the figure beyond the door was no Gene Hunt, it was a tall, muscular figure with a face as grim as death itself. Sam opened his mouth to say something when a heavy object became visible underneath the man’s coat; Sam’s eyes widened and he took several steps backwards into his room.
“Who are you?” The man advanced into the room, and closed the door behind him.
“I think you know who I am, Mr. Tyler.” Sam’s eyes narrowed in confusion, he’d never met this man before in his life so how could he know him?
“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t!” Sam edged around his bed, until he was next to his phone. Yeah it was a long shot, but if he could just dial the station’s number then they could get over here. Unfortunately the man seemed to realise what was going on, and he lunged at Sam. He dodged and hit the man hard in the middle of the back, and watched with triumph as he slumped heavily onto the floor.
'That was too easy', he thought as he picked up the phone. He quickly dialled the station’s number and was just about to speak to Phyllis, when he heard something behind him. He turned and saw the man stand up and lunge at him again, this time Sam didn’t have time to dodge and he was slammed against the wall. The wind rushed out of his body, and he fought for breath but the man didn’t give him time to catch it. No, instead he began to punch Sam in every available place, his face, his chest. Sam let out small cries of pain as he tried to protect himself, occasionally getting in the odd punch or two, but never doing much damage.
Finally with a final blow to the face Sam crumpled against the wall, bleeding and unconscious. It was then that the man realised the phone was still on the hook, and from the receiver he could hear a man’s voice calling a name. He reached a gloved hand towards it, and put the phone to his ear.
“Sam? Sam, what’s going on?” The man chuckled softly, as he listened to the slightly frantic voice on the other end.
“Who’s there? Answer ya bastard, I know you’re there.” Ah what was a bit of beating, if you couldn’t have a bit of fun as well?
“Blood runs cold.” He called down the phone, and then slammed down the receiver. He allowed himself a small smile, before he got back to the job in hand. Carefully he picked up Sam’s leather jacket from where it was put over the back of a chair, and laid it across Sam. After a while he took it off, and could see several small dark spots where the blood had soaked through. Then he laid the jacket on the bed, as a present for when the coppers came looking. Then when his job was done, he picked up Sam easily and hurried out of the door, closing it softly behind him.
*Fin*