Storms by David Menon Page A

apprehended the killer yet. But you and I both know that it was all an act designed to throw us off the scent. Well it didn’t work, Mrs. Patterson. All it did was lead to you being discovered in all your unlawful glory’.
    ‘Where did you get all this so called evidence from?’
    ‘We had someone on the inside’.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your nephew Jackson Williams? You won’t have heard because it’s all happened whilst you’ve been in here talking to us. He’s alive and well and living in America after being adopted by a family in Philadelphia when he was five years old. The young man you knew as your nephew was in fact an undercover police officer who gathered up a lot of very useful information for us’.
    Melanie knew she was trapped now. She’d confided everything to Jackson especially after Leroy had been murdered. She started to cry.
    ‘My son is barely cold in his grave after being murdered in horrific circumstances and you hit me with all of this and then top it all by telling me the young man who I thought was my nephew come back to me was one of yours? You sick excuse for a human being’.
    ‘I recommend you find yourself a lawyer, Mrs. Patterson, and fast. I’m afraid this is not going to end well for you’.
    Jeff and DCI Mike Phillips had been watching from the other side of the two way mirror.
    ‘She’s impressive’ said Phillips. ‘DI Stockton? I’ve heard she wants to leave your squad, sir? Why is that?’
    Jeff paused and then said ‘She has personal reasons’. 
     
    Monica went round on her regular visit to dress the ulcers on Ralph’s leg and she found him in a pretty agitated state. 
    ‘What’s wrong, Ralph?’ she asked. She was kneeling down and unpeeling the old dressing from the affected area just above his ankle. He was usually full of chat and had a jovial nature which was why she looked forward to her visits. Some of the oldies on her list were like the walking dead. It wasn’t necessarily their fault and she did feel awful for thinking it but Ralph liked to make an effort to stay vibrant and aware. Too aware when it came to the activities of the Gorton boys.
    ‘Why are you asking?’
    ‘Because you don’t seem like your normal self’.
    ‘That’s because I’m not’.
    ‘Well then tell me what’s wrong? I might be able to help you’.
    ‘It’s the death of that young policeman who was working on the estate’.
    ‘Oh I know that was awful’ Monica agreed. ‘I read all about it in the papers. But don’t upset yourself about it, Ralph’.
    ‘You don’t understand’ said Ralph. ‘I saw him’.
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Well it must’ve been the murderer’ Ralph went on. ‘I saw him dump the poor lad’s body across the road. He was in the same car as before. Why haven’t the police responded to my letter? They need to know what I know’.  
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    STORMS NINE
    Sending that police officer in undercover had been a master stroke. He would concede that. In fact he would congratulate the police for showing some initiative that otherwise was seriously lacking from their pathetic empty spaces they call a brain. How sweet it was that the police officer in question had fallen into his hands. That would really send a message to them. One day when all of this comes out they will realise the consequences of not taking action when they should appreciate how much they should do. It will make them wake up to themselves and their failings. That’s what he hoped anyway.
    He opened the door into the chamber. He could hear his latest victim shaking with fear. He could smell the urine that had dried into the floor. Fear always makes them piss themselves and he was well used to having to work around it. He could hear the poor misguided creature struggling against his restraints. They always do that too even though it was pointless.
    Aidan was upright and his arms were bent and raised so that his hands were level with the top of his head. His wrists were