The Replacement Phenomenon

  They had moved from the side of a car dealership to the car park of a warehouse which had been left empty and was unguarded at night. They were more inconspicuous there.

  The drugs pick-up had happened an hour and a half previously, meaning this interrogation was his last task for the day. He would have considered the old factory for questioning, but did not know whether his friend in the passenger seat would be able to stand up on his own and walk the distance to the only seats in the building.

  He did not expect Jake’s reaction to the cocktail of drugs to be quite so drastic. He must have given him too much of the epilepsy treatment. He had only discovered what it was after finding the packet in some corner of a cupboard at the police station and looking it up on the internet. For all he knew it was actually a much stronger drug in the bag.

  He was losing patience with Jake. Not only was he giving him some tall tale while under truth serum, but he found it difficult to understand him anyway as he was slurring his words. He needed answers, but was not going to get anything sensible out of Jake any time soon.

  It was not good to have someone around who knew what he was planning, regardless of how crazy he seemed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he intended to frame this guy for the murder of his wife earlier that day, he would probably have shot him by now. The whole thing was becoming massively frustrating to him, stuck in the middle of a situation he absolutely hated being in. In his entire police career, he had never had to kill anyone before, and would have preferred it if he could keep it that way. He still needed to find a way to keep this man quiet, whatever he did. Jake would soon be held for Mrs Arnold’s murder, but he would no doubt tell them of Arnold’s involvement in everything. If he spoke to them in this way no one would believe him.

  The real question was that of proof. In all of his years working for the police, he knew that stories meant nothing more than the words from which they were composed. People were not convicted by witness statements alone very often. Courts needed cold, hard evidence. Everything the police did these days came down to gathering and preserving evidence. Without this evidence, a case would never even reach a court. Without reasonable cause, it would not even reach as far as a search warrant. Why would they believe the story of some lunatic who would say anything to get out of a murder conviction? There was no chance of anyone believing anything else he was likely to say anyway. Why believe part of his story when the rest was so absurd? The problem was that he needed to show case prosecutors that he could prove beyond all reasonable doubt that Jake was responsible for the death of his wife. He could make evidence point to Jake. There would be witnesses on his street who could be convinced that they had seen Jake do it. He felt that someone somewhere might doubt those events on hearing the words of a desperate man.

  He decided to ask one or two more questions, after which he would dump him near his own house and would call the station with an anonymous tip about his abandoned car.

  He looked at his watch. It was nearing seven o’clock. After relinquishing Jake, he would go home and plant as much evidence as he could in order to place Jake at the crime scene with his late wife, before reporting the murder and playing the part of the distraught bereaved husband. He wouldn’t have to act, anyway. He was certainly distraught, that was true. It was everything else which was a lie.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Jake’s eyes opened, and at first he expected to find himself at home, on the morning of the previous day. He was disoriented and confused. He vaguely remembered the events he had gone through since sitting in his wrecked car opposite a used car showroom. He was lying fully clothed, face-up on a pavement, with rain falling relentlessly on him. His drenched clothing suggested he had been there for a little while. He lifted up his left arm and looked at his wristwatch. It was almost 8:00pm. This was evidently the same day, but he could not figure out where the day had gone.

  Fuzzy memories of the evening came to mind. He had been asked a lot of questions, and had been open and honest in his responses – perhaps a little too open and honest. This officer would now probably consider him to be some kind of nutcase. He would have thought so, too, in D.I Arnold’s shoes.

  He remembered small fragments of their conversation. Arnold was being forced to do this drugs trade because of… something. Ironside had something of his, but Jake could not remember what it was. Arnold was being threatened with something, but Jake’s head was so messed up that he could only remember snippets of the interview and interrogation that the policeman had so kindly inflicted upon him.

  Jake brought himself back to the present and looked around. He knew where he was. He was outside the west entrance to the train station, just over half a mile away from his house. He picked himself up, straightened his clothes a little and started walking home. It was hardly worth running to get out of the rain when he had clearly been out in it for so long.

  He wondered how he would explain what had happened to him to his wife and kids, assuming he could get near his house without being arrested. As far as the family were concerned, he was wanted for murder and was a fugitive from the law. There was no doubt that they would know about his activities by now, although the alleged true version they would have been told would be wildly different to his own version of events. Assuming they would be likely to believe an official series of events as told by a police officer, he hoped the effects of the truth serum had worn off. He had about ten minutes to come up with a valid lie.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Andrew’s mobile phone started to ring, and he picked it up to answer the call. “Hello.”

  “Make sure you can’t be heard by anyone,” said the voice on the other end. He instantly recognised it as that of Mr Ironside.

  “I’m actually alone. My wife’s gone and you know where my daughter is.”

  “Of course I do. Well Arnold, how did your conversation with the guy go this evening?”

  “He’s crazy. He says he knows this stuff because of time travel. Even if he went to the police with his story, they would probably just humour him, then section him under the Mental Health Act and call the men in white coats to drag him away.”

  “You may be right, but somehow he still knows something. He would arouse suspicions, which may be enough to get the police sniffing around.”

  “I am the police. If I say there’s going to be no investigation, there will be no investigation.”

  “There's still a risk of someone taking this further. You need to silence this man for good. Call me when it's done.”

  The line went dead, and D.I Arnold was left trying to figure out what to do. He knew where Jake lived. He had ordered the police to stand down from the man's house earlier, as nobody really expected Jake to be dim enough to turn up at his own address while being hunted as a murder suspect. They had already found and removed Jake's car from outside the used car lot, and were of the opinion that Jake had to be miles away by now.

  Arnold doubted that, however. He had a plan of his own. He had of course been granted immediate compassionate leave, following his wife’s murder. He had politely refused the company of Police Family Liaison officers, telling them that he would travel to stay with relatives instead. Nobody questioned the grieving D.I.’s decision. Nobody would be expecting him in at work for some time. That would allow him the opportunity to pick Jake up when he inevitably returned to his own home and do whatever was necessary to ‘silence this man for good’ as Ironside had instructed.

  He knew he needed to plan this carefully if this idea of his was going to work. He figured a late night assault on Jake’s house would work best. Now he just had to figure out how to do it.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A bang caused Jake to wake up with a jump. He expected to wake up in the previous morning again, not in the middle of the night. Once again something was not right.

  Amy turned over in bed. “Did you hear something?” She had been kind enough to stand by him, believing his version of events and refusing to inform the police
of his arrival home.

  Jake nodded in response.

  “I’ll go and check it out. Stay here.” He got out of bed and reached for his dressing gown. He knew where the wooden floor creaked, and was careful to avoid that spot as he crept silently to the door.

  He could definitely hear someone moving around downstairs. He reached for the door handle. He opened the door slowly and silently, pausing on the landing while he gathered his wits and his courage. He needed to make his way downstairs to confront them.

  As he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped and looked around. He had nothing he could use as a weapon. The intruder would certainly be armed with something, so Jake needed something too. It would make no sense for him to put himself in danger without some means of self-defence.

  As he stepped back, trying to think of something suitable he could use, someone or something came rushing up the stairs with the force of a train, knocking him to the floor a couple of feet away. A dark figure fell on him and they crashed through the bedroom door. They both fell together amongst the splinters of wood as he heard his wife screaming in the background.

  A rag was placed over his nose and mouth, leaving behind a taste of some kind of alcohol based substance. He could not help but breathe it in. He started to feel dizzy, and soon the screams, and everything else, faded into blackness.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Jake was beginning to tire of waking up in the same day. Nothing about today had gone well, and he just wanted it to be over. He could not wait for yesterday to start.

  Each time he woke up, the situation in which he found himself was much worse. This time, he was sitting in the old blue car where he had been drugged earlier. His hands were taped to the steering wheel with a strong looking grey duct tape. His feet were also tied and his mouth was sealed with the same tape. He could not move or speak. The best he could do was to make grunting noises. He wondered what on earth was going on, but it hardly needed a genius to figure out that D.I Arnold had found him again.

  He glanced into the rear view mirrors. He could see someone walking up to the car from behind. The door opened and, as expected, D.I Arnold was looking down on him. Jake was growing weary of seeing his face today. He suspected the man was tired of seeing Jake's face as well.

  “I have orders to find a way of keeping you permanently quiet. Ironside doesn’t think my getting you convicted will work as well as I do, so I’ve decided to do something else.” D.I Arnold sounded vengeful and frankly quite evil. It was clear that he was beyond reason.

  Jake started to panic. He realised where the car was parked. He was on a slight hill by the side of the river Tees. They were next to an old stone bridge dividing two villages four miles south of Darlington. Ahead of him lay the river bank lined with trees which belonged to the village of Croft in North Yorkshire, with the River Tees between it and the bank that belonged to the village of Hurworth and the smaller neighbouring village of Hurworth Place.

  Jake generally liked the apparent beauty of the area and had in fact considered moving there when he and Amy had just married. The cost of transportation into Darlington was the only drawback. With petrol prices constantly climbing he decided to move somewhere a little closer to work. He considered that to be a shame as the quaint villages were picturesque. He now looked out over a darkened, tree lined river bank. The thing of concern to him at that moment was the rather deep section of the river between both villages. There was easily enough water for the car to be immersed completely. It would probably go unnoticed for several days as he suspected the river was rarely used for sailing activities. He figured that the river was his obvious destination as he sat in the car.

  A look to his left showed the handbrake was not engaged. All it would take was one swift push and the car would end up in the water, taking him with it. This was obviously what Arnold had meant by keeping him permanently quiet.

  Jake tried to struggle, but to no avail. He wasn't going to get out of that seat.

  “I don't know what you're going to see after this life, but if there's anything else there, say hi to my wife for me.” This man was not just an unfortunate policeman caught up in a horrible situation. He was a man waiting for a chance to show his true colours.

  Before Jake could make any sound in response, Arnold had closed the door, walked to the back of the car, and was pushing the car gently onto the slope leading into the river. Jake felt the car start to move forward. With every passing second the car picked up speed. It took no time at all for the front end of the car to hit the water, with greater force than Jake had expected.

  After a few seconds the car started to sink beneath the surface of the river with water quickly flooding inside. Jake's feet were soaked, and before he knew it the water level was just below his knees. He looked behind him to see D.I Arnold disappearing along the street. He was not about to hang around in a public place and risk being seen near a sinking car.

  The water on the outside of the car was up to the windscreen. Jake was certain that this would be the end of his life. He was not sure if he had actually died at any previous point, but now he felt that he was going to know what dying would feel like for sure. There was no way out. In just a minute the car would sink entirely.

  The inside was now almost entirely filled with water. Jake had a couple of seconds to inhale his last breath. As he did so, the car gurgled down under the water. If Jake didn't find a way out he'd be dead very soon. He had never been able to hold his breath for very long. However, even great escape artists would struggle with this one.

  Jake started tugging on the steering wheel, noticing that the tape was starting to peel away from his wrists and that his feet were looser than they had been several seconds earlier. It appeared that D.I Arnold was not particularly expert in securing people without the aid of handcuffs and zip ties. The tape he had used was obviously not fully waterproof. Jake could not believe his luck. Okay, he was trapped underwater in an old car and was still facing a herculean task which would be beyond the skills of Houdini, but the tape was coming loose and things were looking up, even as he was sinking.

  Jake wriggled his left hand free of the tape and the steering wheel, losing most of the hairs on his wrist in the process. It hardly mattered in the circumstances. He was then able to free his right hand with his left and yanked the tape from his ankles. All he had to do now was get out of the car.

  He noticed the doors were locked from the outside and the keys were gone. He tried lifting the small peg inside the door. It failed to move. The door would not unlock. It seemed to be jammed, which was not surprising given the low cost of the car. And of course Arnold would have planned it this way.

  He tried moving to his left to try the passenger door and realised his seat belt was holding him in place. D.I Arnold had been curiously safety conscious about someone he was trying to kill. He may have sent Jake into almost freezing water, potentially ending his life, but at least Jake would not hurt himself if the car crashed into anything.

  He unbuckled the seat belt and was a little bit surprised at how easily he could open the passenger side door. His lungs were burning with the need to breathe out and then in again, but he was still several seconds away from being able to do so. He scrambled out through the door, ready to rise to the surface of the water.

  He exhaled, hoping the pain in his lungs would ease. Unfortunately that made things far worse. It felt like his chest was about to collapse in on itself, as if someone had somehow power-kicked him in the chest underwater. It seemed like an eternity before he broke through the surface of the water and could finally breathe again. He gasped for air, taking great heaving breaths and feeling elated to be able to breathe again.

  The simple act of getting oxygen into one's lungs had never seemed so sweet to him as it seemed at that moment. His body relaxed and be could feel the tension leave his muscles as if being washed away by the water that surrounded him. He spun around in the water, realising that he was surprisingly far from the rive
r bank. The current had dragged him and the car further away than he had expected. He swam for the side, reaching safety within a couple of minutes.

  Jake clambered up the grassy bank then up onto solid ground, and fell onto the ground in a heap. It was not raining any more, but it really didn’t matter. Why would it? He could not have been any wetter than he already was. He had had an exhausting day, and needed to rest. He had no energy, no more strength and no desire to move a muscle. He was falling asleep at that very moment, and he did not care enough to fight it. He collapsed on the top of the grass bank, lying on his back. His heavy eyelids closed and he was out like a light.

 

  CHAPTER 16

  Thursday 22nd January, 7:30am

  Happy to wake up in another yesterday, Jake climbed out of bed and readied himself for another day of work. By the term 'work' he was not thinking of his seemingly endless job at Nannotek. It seemed like a million years since he had been living his normal working life. No, he was consumed by thoughts of the effort which would still be required in preventing the deaths of several innocent people in his town over the next week.

  He did not have an action plan for the day. He needed to remember what he could from yesterday to help with today. The trouble was that his head had been so badly messed up yesterday that he would probably have difficulty making sense of what he knew. D.I Arnold had divulged several things during the interrogation yesterday, but Jake had been under the influence of at least two different drugs at the time and his memory of what had happened was hazy at best.

  He pieced together what he could remember. Arnold's wife had been shot by someone working for Ironside to confirm the threat to him. Arnold was being blackmailed into doing the drug trade, and he had gone along with it in the hope of getting his family back, as well as making enough money to safeguard his future in the process. It had seemed that Arnold had already made up his mind before Jake's influence had made things worse. The man's mind had probably been made up during his previous involvement with Ironside.