The Replacement Phenomenon
He wondered whether he could find the middle ground, as far as his career was concerned. He would be unlikely to find a job advertisement for 'Part-Time Government Agent / Part-Time Desk Clerk.'
Whilst thinking about his future, as well as his past week, his eyes were fixed on the phone on his desk. He was responsible for dealing with difficult customers and those who needed to speak with a senior staff member in order to resolve their complaints.
Occasionally he had seen lights flash, indicating that someone had called his department, but none of the calls were being transferred to him. He was not looking at the phone in anticipation of receiving a call, but with thoughts of making one of his own.
He stretched out his arm, picked up the receiver and pressed the number nine to access an outside phone line. He dialled a number scribbled on a pad in front of him, and waited for someone to pick up on the other end. After three rings, someone answered.
Jake responded. “Hello. This is Officer Jacobs of the Metropolitan Police High Tech Crime Unit. May I speak with Detective Inspector Arnold concerning a case?” He expected to hear a sceptical objection, but he was instead given a polite response. This officer evidently believed his lie.
“I'm sorry, Officer Jacobs,” was the response. “He's been called away on urgent business.” Jake thought his idea was falling flat on its face, but he was suddenly given hope. After a quiet second or two the officer spoke again. “I can give you his mobile phone number if it is important.”
“It's very important. Thank you for your help,” Jake responded. He reached for a paper and pen, and had a smile on his face when he thought how easy it was to fool an administrator in law enforcement. He hoped the rest of their staff were not so easily fooled.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was nothing unusual about the home of D.I Arnold. It was part of a new housing estate. With every house built of the same red bricks with the same red pantile roofs and white UPVC windows, they looked almost identical to each other with only slight differences in size and shape. Some houses offered two bedrooms, some three, and some four. He remembered the whole estate being built only a couple of years earlier. It had been built on ground in the dilapidated Faverdale area of town which had stood pretty much desolate for years. The old industrial area had been considered a toxic area until it was cleaned over a period of several years prior to the new housing estate being built.
It was the kind of housing development Jake had seen in every housing company brochure he had ever looked through. The estate had a surprisingly narrow winding road, leading eventually to number 78.
He parked at the end of the Arnold property but stayed in the car. There were no other cars on their property, so wherever the policeman was, he had not yet returned home.
Jake had managed to get an uncomfortably large amount of information from the guy who picked up the phone in the police station. Not only had he been able to get D.I Arnold's home and mobile phone numbers, but he had been able to find out where he lived.
It was quite alarming to him to discover how liberal some people were with private information. The administrator, after giving away everything but Mr Arnold's life history and bank details, had offered to leave a message for D.I Arnold. Jake had tried calling the man himself, but had not been able to get through.
His last chance to contact the man was to drive to his house and wait for him. He had no idea whether or not the guy would be expecting company when he returned home. He had no idea how long he would have to wait to find out.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Detective Inspector Andrew Arnold sat in the comfortable leather front seat of his new car, looking directly in front of him. Through the windscreen he could clearly see the abandoned factory. He had seen this place only once before, a couple of days earlier, when this whole thing had started. It was not particularly large, but would easily be big enough for his needs. It had been suggested as a good place to conduct business by Paul Ironside, and it seemed that when that man made a suggestion people listened or they would soon regret it. He had even been told that there was a comfortable office already set up inside for him to use.
Andrew Arnold did not want to take part in any of this, but what choice did he have? His family had been threatened. His daughter was already missing, and he was certain they would be watching his home. He was sure that they would be watching every aspect of his life, and so they would know everything that his wife was doing. They could take her just as easily as they had taken his daughter.
He found himself wallowing in self-pity again. He was in this mess because he had done his job several days before. Every detail was planned. Every possible scenario had been accounted for, but somehow his team had it all wrong.
For months they had been tracking Ironside, following every deal, and they had a good idea of how he worked. They knew he managed to oversee every deal done in his name, even if he was not at the exact location when it happened. They also knew that he had the area well-guarded, and another outer ring of guards to protect the deal, as well as himself, from any interference.
Unfortunately, no one had found any proof that there were yet more guards. Another perimeter was set up around the two levels of guards already there.
Thinking back to the ordeal, it was quite amazing that they had managed to get out of the area alive. The police officers had taken out what appeared to be the outer level of guards when they were surrounded by yet more.
They could have all been killed right there, but instead they were brought before Mr Ironside. He held a 'private meeting' with Andrew where he promised to spare their lives if he himself would agree to do the next trade.
Did he really have a choice? He could have said no, which would have meant sacrificing the lives of almost an entire police force, but he said yes. He did not so much care about his own life at that moment, but his colleagues and family were involved as well. Anything he refused to do would result in someone being hurt. He could have handled that if the only person being hurt was him, but it needed to be an instant decision that would affect everyone connected to him.
The deal could have been worse than the one proposed. Ironside offered to spare his life, the lives of his family, and of every officer in his force. In addition, he had offered him a substantial amount of cash. As unattractive as his involvement was, the money would set him up for life. He could leave this place and his career behind him in order to make a fresh start elsewhere. He would not earn his police pension but he would not need it if everything happened as Ironside said it would happen.
As much as he hated to admit it, the money was a small but contributing force to his actions. He could feel himself becoming less and less honest with every passing hour, and he needed to reach the end of all of this. However, he still doubted that Ironside would simply pay him and let him go. To Ironside, a corrupt Detective Inspector might be extremely useful.
Andrew Arnold was still thinking about possible alternatives to what he was now doing when he heard a mobile phone ringing. He reached into his pocket, realising that his phone was turned off. After hunting around, he found another phone in the glove compartment. He did not recognise the phone or the number, but he knew who would be on the other end of the call. He had no interest in speaking to the man, but he felt that he had little choice. “Hello.”
“Andy! How are you?” He recognised the voice of Mr Ironside on the other end of the line, speaking far too enthusiastically for his liking.
“I've been better,” Andrew responded. “And it's Andrew, not Andy, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, Andy,” came the response, blatantly ignoring the correction, “You appear to have a visitor.”
Andrew looked around him, and in his car mirrors, and saw no one. “He's not there with you… He's outside your house.” Andrew froze, eyes widening. This man was not only watching his home, but he was watching him inside his car as well. He had managed to get in and plant the phone and some kind of remote transmitting camera w
ithout setting off the alarm. He was clearly dealing with a very clever professional.
“You're probably wondering what I'm about to ask you to do, but I'll get to that in a little while.” Mr Ironside seemed to be enjoying the corruption of a policeman. “First of all, you need to deal with the person outside of your house. Your wife has never seen him before, but I have a feeling you have.” The phone went quiet for a minute or so. “Andy, you have half an hour to get here and remove this man from this situation or I will get involved. I'm sure you know what I'm capable of, so don't make me angry.” With that comment, the line went dead. He was obviously in no mood for pleasantries. He suspected the man was never in the mood for saying hello, goodbye, please or thank you.
By D.I Arnold's watch, it was 2pm. He had only a short amount of time to figure out what was going on. There was a strange man outside his house and he needed to get rid of him within half an hour or Ironside would get rid of his wife. Simple, but also far too complicated for his normal everyday life.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jake had been outside the house for nearly half an hour and D.I Arnold was still nowhere to be seen. He had tried phoning his mobile phone again, but there was still no answer. He must have been doing something important to be away from work in the middle of the day, and to have cut off contact with everyone.
He could see some movement inside the house. The guy's wife was still inside, and was probably watching him, wondering what he was doing there.
He was on the verge of starting his engine and heading out of the street when he heard a car approaching. A new black Audi estate car, still with the paintwork sheen of a showroom, pulled into the driveway of number 78 and stopped. He could see D.I Arnold getting out of the car with an angry look on his face. It seemed wherever he had just been, he had not received any good news. He swung the door of his car closed and stormed towards Jake.
Jake was startled. He had expected a look of confusion on the officer's face, not one of anger. He did not know what to make of the reaction but it did not look good. Did D.I Arnold somehow recognise him, or was he just in a bad mood?
The policeman knocked on Jake's window, and Jake opened it with the usual button to talk with him. “Who the hell are you?”
D.I Arnold had no intention in waiting for Jake to wind the window all the way before asking his question. “I-”
“I don't really care!” He didn't let Jake explain himself. “Just get out of here.”
“I'm here to stop you making a mistake,” Jake added.
“Well, you've already made one. You shouldn't be here.”
“Why not?”
“You're causing me problems by just being here,” D.I Arnold said, growing red faced with anger.
“How?”
“I can't tell you. It’s none of your business. Just go.”
“No. Not until I talk to you about what you're about to do.”
“How could you possibly know what I am about to do? I have no idea who you are!”
“I know more than you think.”
D.I Arnold's phone rang, interrupting Jake's comments. “Yes!” He shouted impatiently.
“I can see and hear everything you're doing,” came the voice over the phone. “There is a directional microphone pointed right at you. I'll give you one minute to get rid of him.” He did not recognise this voice. It must have been one of Ironside's helpers.
“Okay,” replied D.I Arnold, emotionless. With that he ended the call and put the phone in his pocket. Turning to Jake he said, “Whoever you are, and whatever you're doing here, you must leave now.”
“Not until I talk to you about tomorrow!” Jake shouted in response.
“What can you possibly know about tomorrow?”
“I know what you're planning, and I'm here to stop you giving in to Ironside's demands.”
D.I Arnold stepped back, shocked. It was as if he had been told some horrifying news. “How could you have any idea who Ironside is?” he asked with a panicked tone to his voice. Jake opened his mouth to answer, paused to think of the words, and then Arnold's phone rang again.
“What?!” Arnold shouted down the phone.
“Your time is up,” said the man on the other end.
“What do you mean? It's only been a few seconds.”
“He knows too much. He needs a little encouragement to get moving.”
“And what do you suggest?” he retorted. “I’m doing my best.”
“You'll see.” The phone was silent. He'd hung up. D.I Arnold turned his head and looked through his living room window. He could see a figure approaching the window. He looked closer. It seemed like a man dressed in all black clothing, and he was holding something. He looked back at Jake. His phone rang again, and he pulled it from his pocket. “What?”
“I thought you might like to hear this. It's the sound of the consequences of your actions.” The man stopped speaking, but this time he stayed on the line.
He could hear the noise of someone moving in the background, and something small and heavy being moved. The next sound was unmistakable. It was the clink of a handgun being cocked. He heard mumbling which was almost certainly his wife. The mumbling became louder as the man clearly walked towards her holding the phone and a gun. He listened intently to any background noise. Without any warning a loud bang caused Andrew Arnold to move the phone away from his ear, lessening the deafening sound erupting from the handset. As he did so, he knew the sound all too well, and he felt a chill run down his spine. That loud bang, which he could hear without the aid of his phone, was the sound of a handgun being fired.
He listened again. There was no more mumbling in the background noise. His eyes widened and he started to panic. “Hello?” There was no answer. He raised his voice to an almost ear splitting shout. “Hello!”
“I'm still here,” came the answer from the man on the other side of the window. “However, someone else is not here anymore. You know who to blame, and if you don't eliminate him now then I will.” No more words were spoken and the line went dead again.
D.I Arnold turned to face Jake again. “You have no idea what you have just done!” he said. Jake looked confused. “Your being here has just ruined my life. Now I intend to ruin yours.”
The look on Jake's face changed from one of confusion to one of concern, then panic as the officer spoke. He continued, “And if I don't do something to you,” he paused and pointed to his own living room window where Jake could see someone's hand moving a net curtain to allow them a clear view from the front of the house. He continued to speak with emotion breaking his voice, “If I do nothing, the man staring at you from the other side of that window over there will do something to you, and then to me.” With that, he turned and walked back to his car.
Jake had heard a muffled bang that suggested someone inside had been the unintended victim of his own interference, and he had a rough idea of what was about to happen. He watched D.I Arnold walk to his car, open the driver door, reach under the seat, and place something in his pocket. This did not look good.
Jake started his car engine as quickly as his fumbling fingers allowed him to turn the key in the ignition. D.I Arnold spun around. Jake put the car in reverse, then reached down and took off the handbrake. He needed to act quickly. He was quite certain that two people in his eye line were determined to hurt or kill him.
With no further thought, Jake slammed his foot on the accelerator, flinging the car back at break neck speed to the sounds of squealing rubber and amid a new cloud of smoke. In the next few seconds Jake heard rapid gunfire, and everything breakable on his car was shattered almost in an instant. He ducked out of the way of the bullets flying around him, below the top of the dashboard, and the hole where his car windscreen had been just a few seconds earlier.
He had no idea where his car was going, whether he was close to any parked cars, or if anything was driving the other way down the road. The clunking sound of bullets piercing bodywork ceased, and he assumed that both
men had run out of ammunition, or that they could see no sense in shooting randomly down a residential street. It made a lot of sense for the two of them to stop shooting at him, and he agreed wholeheartedly with that decision. The problem was that this meant that they would now start chasing Jake as aggressively as they had been shooting.
He lifted his head up and looked out of the gaping hole that used to be his rear window. The road was curving and he needed to turn the car around. He turned the wheel hard to the right and pulled on the handbrake, spinning the car around in a perfect one hundred and eighty degree spin. He had never done a manoeuvre like that before and was surprised and pleased with himself at how well he pulled it off.
He drove out of the new estate as fast as he could, knowing that D.I Arnold, as well as the mystery shooter, would be after him within seconds. Not only was a random shooter and an apparently vengeful person about to be on his tail, but one of them was a policeman. The man would certainly use the tools at his disposal to capture Jake. He needed to hide and he needed to do so very well and very quickly. His life depended on his making good decisions in the next few minutes.
CHAPTER 15
Friday 23rd January, 2:49pm
It had been almost ten minutes since Jake had hurriedly left the street where the Arnolds lived. In that time it had seemed like he had checked his rear view mirror about five hundred times. There were no other cars on the road behind him. It would be difficult for them to keep up anyway. He was driving as fast as the roads, and his bullet-ridden car would allow. Of all the damage the car had sustained, the most significant was the removal of the windscreen. This limited the top speed of the car to whatever wind speed his face could stand. That was still a fair amount above thirty miles per hour in residential areas. He thought about racing drivers and how the most powerful cars in the world had no windscreen. These were, however, driven by guys with strong necks and stronger helmets. He had neither of those.
Despite the damage to the car Jake could still exceed the speed limits with relative ease. He knew that by doing so he was risking being caught speeding by traffic police, but he would be in more trouble if a certain off-duty police officer caught up with him first.