46

 

With his camera hooked up to his laptop, Vincent sat in the driver's seat of his car, reviewing the photos he’d snapped of DI Rob Loxley talking to an unknown man behind the village hall.

The man hadn’t looked like a police officer, although he had been wearing a suit. He sported a shaved head, a goatee and was a big man. Not someone he’d want to piss off. But the real question was, who was he and what was he speaking to Loxley about?

He’d been following Loxley and the case for the past few days, and this was the first thing he’d seen that even came close to being worthy of reporting to Bill Rainault. He had no idea if it was anything dodgy, but if it was, Bill would probably figure it out.

As the images continued to download, Vincent grabbed his phone and called Bill. He answered moments later.

“Good evening, Kane.”

“Bill,” Vincent replied. “I might have something for you.”

“Oh? Anything good?”

“I don’t know. I saw Loxley speaking to some guy behind the village hall. I’ve got no idea who he was or what they were talking about, but thought you should know so you can look into it.”

“Did you get any photos?”

“I did, actually. I’m downloading them to my PC now, I’ll fire them over as soon as I can. Any idea who it could be?”

“What did he look like?”

“Big, bald, with a goatee. He was wearing a suit.”

“And you’ve never seen him before?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, good work, fire them over.” He hung up.

Vincent gave his phone a quick glance over at the sudden end to the call when the driver's door was suddenly yanked open.

Huge hands, like slabs of meat, reached in and grabbed him by the front of his clothes and hauled him out of the car. There was no fighting it. The huge arms were like pneumatic power arms, an unstoppable force that just ripped him from the car.

“What the hell.”

A massive, giant of a man lifted him and then slammed Vincent against the side of the car. The man’s ugly, brutish face was just inches from Vincent’s own.

“Ooof. Um, ouch.” Fear flooded his system with adrenaline, but there was no fighting this beast, and he knew it. Better to do what they wanted and survive to tell the tale. “Hey, chill, man. You can have whatever you want.”

The man grunted but said nothing. Movement beyond his attacker caught Vincent’s attention. It was the man he’d seen speaking to Loxley. He was watching dispassionately, a short distance behind the monster that was holding him.

“Oh…”

“I don’t appreciate having my photo taken without my permission,” the man said as he walked over. He reached inside Vincent’s car and grabbed his camera and laptop. “So, I’ll be taking these.”

Vincent glanced at the beast and then at the mysterious man. “Fuck you.”

The beast shook him with a grunt.

The man held up his hand. “Phone.”

“Aww, come on. I’ve got my whole life on that thing.”

“And if you want to continue living that life, I suggest you do as I ask,” the man said, while the beast tightened his grip, and growled.

“Shit,” he hissed, and handed it over.

The man glanced at it, then held it up. “Unlock it.”

“God damn it.” But he did as the man asked as the beast continued to hold him aloft and pressed against his car. It cut into his back in an excruciating way. The man tapped the screen a few times before he held it up for Vincent to confirm his security code again and remove the security features from the device.

“Thank you. You see? Easy, wasn’t it. And now I don’t need to ask my friend here to do something you wouldn’t enjoy.”

The beast lowered him to the floor.

“Arr, yeah, thanks.” There was a sudden flash of movement, and the beast's fist appeared out of nowhere, moving quicker than he’d have thought possible. The punch slammed into the side of his face and sent him sprawling into the car with a thud.

“Still, wouldn’t want to deprive him of some fun, would I. Good day to you, Mr Kane, and stay out of my business.”

Dripping blood from his mouth, Kane looked up from the concrete and watched the pair of men get into the same car he’d seen at the village hall but noticed the number plate was different. He guessed these would be false plates, too, as he rolled onto his back while the engine of the car roared into the distance.

There was no denying it now. He’d stumbled onto something juicy.