The Sweet Smell of Rain

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Hannah was uncharacteristically nervous as she knocked on the front door of the Hodder household. Rapid, heavy footfalls could be heard as the door was opened almost immediately. Grace stood at the open door, dark shadows under her eyes suggesting a lack of sleep or excess tears, but more than likely a combination of both. ‘Yes’? said Grace…’Oh Hello, my name is Hannah White, Jeff Baxter’s girlfriend’…as she said this she realised that this too, was the first time that she had used that phrase and it felt strangely satisfying…she continued ‘We met briefly at the hospital when Lauren was there…Jeff is out looking for her with Jim and he suggested that you may want some company…but if it’s not convenient’.

  For a few seconds, a pregnant pause filled the void between the two women. This may have been because Grace was trying to remember Hannah from the myriad of other uniformed staff that she had encountered at the hospital, or it could have been that the last thing she wanted to do was to invite just the latest in a long line of strangers into her home.

  Finally, Grace said ‘Oh Yes, please forgive me come in…any friend of Jeff’s’. Grace stood aside and let Hannah enter the hallway. Breeding is everything, and Hannah was amazed when given the trying circumstances, Grace went straight into ‘hostess mode’, taking her coat, offering tea, coffee or ‘perhaps something stronger’. Demonstrating her own pedigree, Hannah said that ‘Coffee would be fine’ but went on to mention that her decision had more to do with an early shift than any devotion to the temperance movement…this seemed to break the ice between them and they shared the first of many laughs on that difficult day.

  An added bonus for Grace was that her mother Rose, went to the spare bedroom ‘to get rid of this raging headache’…and as she walked from the room Grace concluded that she too was getting rid of a headache. For all his faults, it was hard to disagree with Hodder, that her mother really was a difficult woman to get along with.

  Hannah had decided that it would be best to not press the subject of Lauren and just to let the conversation take its natural course…naturally, she (Lauren) was never very far from the surface and Grace seemed to retreat ever so slightly into her shell when her name was mentioned. It occurred to Hannah that Grace already seemed to be grieving. Grieving for someone who as far as anyone could tell, was still alive. It was truly awful to watch. Hannah who witnessed so much tragedy and heartache on a daily basis found herself easily, but more importantly, genuinely empathising with Grace.

  When Grace told Hannah that she had called Baxter whilst en route from Clennell Hall, she was keen to extol his virtues. Hannah had to suppress laughter when she mentioned her jealous outburst when the phone call disturbed her first date with Baxter…’So, I am the older, other woman’ said Grace as they shared the joke. Hannah blushed at her lack of faith in Baxter…she would not have cause to doubt him again. Whilst back on the subject of Baxter and Hodder Grace said ‘Do you know where they are…I haven’t heard anything for ages, and it just gets harder the longer it goes on’.

  ‘I don’t’ was the honest reply…’But, I’m sure of one thing. They will do everything possible to find her and if what Jeff tells me about Jim is only half true…I am certain that he will bring her back safely to you…it’s pointless saying don’t worry but those two are as thick as thieves and it would not surprise me if they all three of them walked into through the door at any moment’.

  Grace was unable to control her emotions any longer, and not for the first time that day, she broke down. It was second nature to Hannah to deal with situations like this…granted this was different because it was not exactly a work situation, but none the less, in that moment as she embraced Grace, an enduring friendship was born.

  By the time Baxter realised that he had been ‘duped’ by Hodder it was too late…he was locked inside the foundations of the monument without a phone with only the Love Heart crunching Palma and the rats for company…he was unsure which he preferred, but the rodents were leading by a short head. Baxter resolved that if he survived this day, then the first thing that he was going to do was to kill Hodder!

  The young Police Officer was quite used to spending extended periods of time in the company of criminals. This however, was different. Normally, the conversation would be ‘driven’ by the pre-determined agenda of the interview, and because there was none of that, the conversation felt somewhat forced and stilted. Other than the occasional ‘When do you think Mr Hodder is coming back’? things felt just a little ‘artificial’ to Baxter. As the silences grew longer and much more uncomfortable, Baxter was reminded of the uneasy atmosphere of enforced work or family get-togethers.

  Baxter was a copper with the ability to do immense harm to Palma, but, even in a situation like this as the batteries in the torches faded and the smell from the makeshift toilet increased, Palma was reluctant to talk about his business activities…it was in actual fact the only thing they had in common. The only thing that is, apart from the fact that neither man could get out of this goddamn awful place. ’All said and done, Mr Baxter, we all have to put food on the table. It’s just that some of us choose do it in a different way. The thing about it is if I had a ‘normal’ job, I know that I wouldn’t have the money or the home that I have. The down side is that I am constantly looking over my shoulder expecting someone to stab me in the back at any time’.

  Heavily laden with irony, Baxter said with a long sigh, ‘Sounds just like the police service to me’, and thinking more of himself than Palma, Baxter said ‘Do you know that you have been double crossed Davy’?

  ‘What do you mean’? and although Baxter could not see Palma’s face, it was obvious by the questioning tone of his voice that he was confused…’What do you mean’? he repeated.

  ‘What I mean is that whether you know it or not, you would have died in here…not today, not tomorrow but you would have died a long, slow agonising death’ and as he said this Baxter wondered if he would ever see Hannah again. He knew that if Hodder fell foul of Parks, no one other than Hodder knew that they were locked inside the monument and they were as good as dead.

  ‘Bollocks’ was the less than convincing reply from Palma…’you are just trying to screw me for information’.

  ‘No, I’m not, and the reason that I know this is because your good friend and colleague Dean Parks, who I should tell you, grassed you up for the booze in the first place, leaves Love Hearts sweets at the scenes of his crimes, it’s a bit like a calling card. It’s the last thing he does before leaving the scene for the final time. And it’s no different this time, so prepare yourself for a long wait and just pray to the Patron Saint of Criminals, that Hodder comes back soon. Otherwise, my friend, we are both ‘bushed’.

  Just as the slight echo of Baxter’s words faded, so did the final glint of light from Palmas head torch.

  As Hodder sped along the 50mph zone of the A1058 Coast Road towards Newcastle and beyond, he saw the flash of a speed camera. He hoped that it was one of the many rumoured to be no more than cosmetic street furniture used to keep the travelling public in check. ‘Just another problem to put in my ‘in tray’’ he contemplated as the yellow box grew ever smaller in his rear view mirror.

  Hodder then negotiated his way around the City Centre, avoiding what passes in the North East as rush hour, and he was soon heading westwards along the A69. Travelling along this road, Hodder pulled into a bus stop adjacent to a small ruined section of the Roman Wall, and made two phone calls. During the first call he received instructions, and during the second call he passed on those same instructions.

  As he continued along the road he saw a sign for Darras Hall, and he recalled his recent visits there. ‘Exactly what’ he wondered, was a certain criminal, germane of that parish, doing at this precise moment?

  Parks was a most ungracious travelling companion. Michael Palin would have hated him. He complained endlessly that his human rights were being violated, that he was hungry and he needed the toilet, in fact, anything at all. Parks
was adamant that when he got to the police station he was going to make sure that Hodder and Randall-Ord paid the full price for their indiscretions.

  After all was said and done, they, were a Police Officer and a lawyer and they above all, were not supposed to break the law! Had they no sense of decency, surely they must know what is right and what is wrong!

  The urban sprawl of Tyneside finally gave way to the rural landscape of the Tyne Valley and the vast, sparsely populated county of Northumberland. Still on the A69, Hodder stopped in a layby just to the east of Hexham from where he made two more calls. He was then instructed to pass directly over the Hexham roundabout and continue on the A69 before leaving at the Corbridge roundabout before progressing further into the county upon the A68. He was instructed to ‘Call again when you get to Bellingham Village’.

  By this time, Parks was really starting to ‘bug’ Hodder with his constant complaining that interfered with his thought processes. So, Hodder stopped the car down a narrow country lane where he decided to ‘call his bluff’. ‘Look Dean…if you stay quiet for about half an hour I will let you go…if you don’t I will gag you and beat the living shit out of you…this is entirely your choice and when the opportunity arises you can complain all you want about me…I have things on my mind…do you understand’?

  ‘Where are we going’? said Parks.

  ‘Just a bit further along the road…you have my word that I will let you go…but the deal is that you can’t tell anyone is that okay’?

  ‘Do I have a choice’?

  ‘Dean, I was saying to someone just before that we all have choices, it’s just that some are easier to make than others’…Hodder could also have added that ‘And some are more right than others’, but he did not want to further burden either himself or Parks, with the cryptic nature of his thinking.

  This seemed to have the desired effect upon Parks, because he remained strangely silent for much of the journey to Bellingham. Once there Hodder received more instructions and made a second discreet phone call. He just hoped that he was not being watched or he may unintentionally scupper his own plan. Hodder, the car and Parks, left Bellingham and as instructed, followed the signs for Kielder Water, a place where despite the unforgiving and ravenous midge population he had previously spent many a happy hour.

  At the C200 Hodder followed the Kielder Village signs. There was something not quite right about this road. When he saw that it was a ‘C’ classification Hodder assumed that it would be a narrow single track road but he was amazed that it was modern and wide. It was only when he saw the ‘convoys’ of Forestry Commission logging vehicles that he remembered that Kielder Forest covered some 250 square miles and is the largest working forest in Europe.

  ‘What a place to ‘lose oneself’ he thought as a speeding logger heading his way narrowly missed colliding with him. ‘At least that shut Parks up’ he thought as he sighed loudly with relief. At Kielder Village, he received further instructions and followed signs for the Forest Drive toll road where he was instructed to make his way towards Kielder Viaduct, park up to await further instructions.

  Until 1958, Kielder Railway Viaduct carried goods and passengers on behalf of a succession of small independent Railway companies serving rural Northumberland and the Borders. As road transport became more efficient, it fell into disuse and was eventually sold for £1.00 in 1969 to the Northumberland and Newcastle Society who set about preserving this impressive structure. The viaduct was very much a product of its time…the style was dictated to the designer John Furness Tone, Resident Engineer of the Newcastle and North Shields Railway Company, by the Duke of Northumberland who wanted the structure to be in keeping with the Baronial style of his shooting lodge, Kielder Castle.

  Tone was to become one of the leading figures in the development of the embryonic railway system in the United Kingdom. A local boy made good, but like a lot of innovators from an area of innovators, he would remain largely unknown. All revolutions, even those of the industrial type, would it seems, have their victims.

  The viaduct has an impressive seven arches, crossing Deadwater Burn, at such an angle as demanded by the Duke, that the unique ‘Skew Arch’ design meant that each of the stones forming the arches had to be individually cut to size and shape on site by master masons. It took three years to construct…all just to fit in with the whims of the Lord of the Manor. Then as now …’What the Duke wants the Duke gets’…nothing changes!

  Just think of the Alnwick Garden and all of that Lottery funding…Good causes? Think again.

  Hodder knew none of these facts, but if he did, the irony would not have been lost that the Duke’s many mines which were effectively ‘scars on the landscape’, could remain just that, as long as the Old Duke did not have to look at them for fear of missing his shot at a passing grouse, partridge or perhaps even a trespassing commoner.

 

  Parking in a secluded clearing, Hodder got out of the car and putting on his wide brimmed fedora, and Barbour Stockman’s coat he made a call, predictably, it began pouring with rain, the sweet smell of the rain soaked grass filling his nostrils. He was advised to ‘stay tight and await further instructions’…he did as he was told. Pacing anxiously around the car…clearly sent the wrong messages to Parks who became increasingly agitated and began to kick out again at the interior of the car.

  The car wasn’t complaining but Hodder became increasingly agitated by this…his nerves were clearly getting the better of him, so he took a short walk into the forest to avail himself of the nearest tree, and to actually think about what he was doing. But, even with a clearing head and clearing bladder, he knew that he had no choice.

  Hodder strolled just far enough into the forest so as not to hear Parks protests but he remained close enough to keep an eye on the car…he did not relish the idea of losing Parks now…even though he doubted whether Houdini himself could have extricated himself from the car before feeling the full sixteen gravity assisted stones of Hodder upon his back.

  However, it was not Parks that Hodder was worried about.

  Hodder nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang…it was Grace. Why was it, he wondered that when he wanted a signal at Clennell Hall, he could not get one and now, here, when he wanted a call from anyone other than Grace, it was ‘all systems go’.

  ‘What to do?...should I ignore it’? He did.

  On the other end of the phone Grace was frantic. ‘Where can he be? What can he be doing Hannah’? With that Hannah rang Baxter’s mobile. She would never know this but Hodder heard that phone too. He chose to ignore that call too and let it ring off. Hannah left a voice mail message for Baxter asking him to call her urgently and that Grace was desperate for information, any information.

  Grace said ‘This is really unusual…both of them not answering I’m not happy. Do you think that that they are alright? Do you think that I should call the police’? Hannah remembered an earlier conversation with Baxter when the subject of Hodder was raised. Baxter described Hodder as being something of a ‘Maverick’ with a reputation for getting things done albeit, on occasions, in somewhat of an unconventional manner.

  Though she could not really claim to know Hodder, Hannah felt that there was some mileage in telling this story to Grace. Whether she believed it or not Grace seemed to buy it. She was clearly nearing breaking point but she said…’If we don’t hear in an hour I am calling the police’. She could not have been aware that that phrase had already been used once that day, and on that occasion the call had not been made.

  She, too, would not make her call either.

  Bostock had just taken the latest in a series of calls from Hodder, and he looked over his shoulder and said to ‘Tiny’ ‘I think we have that copper just where we want him’. ‘Tiny’ grunted, the response of a man who would rather be waging his own kind of war on the virtual battlefield.

  Lauren was sitting next to ‘Tiny’ wearing the same rancid sack that had previously been placed over Palma??
?s head. She was too frightened to attempt to speak and almost too terrified to breathe. Whoever these monsters were, it was obvious to Lauren that they were talking about Hodder and it was equally obvious that they were trying to lure him into a trap. She wished that she could warn him but the duct tape on her mouth and the bindings on her hands simply turned her into a mute, unwilling spectator…or worse!

  Bostock decided that they would conceal the car in the forest and walk to the viaduct where he would find a suitable place to conceal Lauren and himself to wait for Hodder to arrive with Parks. Bostock did not say as much to his dim witted cohort, but he did not intend an exchange to take place…he did not need any witnesses left behind, especially a Police Officer, who could doubtless call on the resources of his organisation to exact revenge.

  ‘No’ thought Bostock…’There will be no one left to mess things up for me, and if that includes ‘slotting’ ‘Tiny’ so be it, but for now he has his uses’.

  Bostock, ‘Tiny’ and Lauren then walked across the full 131 yards of the Viaduct, the torrential rain was almost horizontal as the wind propelled it towards them with bone chilling venom. Upon reaching the north side, Bostock saw that the trees grew in such a way as to almost form an arched canopy over the footpath which wended its way towards Deadwater Fell in the distance.

  The Mancunian determined that this was a good a place as any to lay in wait. Strategically it offered many advantages, specifically, Bostock could see the southern approach to the one time railway line which was now overgrown with grass, the rails having been removed many years ago for scrap. Furthermore, he could remain concealed until he had to reveal himself and thirdly, once at the north end of the viaduct and therefore effectively out of sight he could deal with Hodder and Lauren without the worry of prying eyes.

  Bostock took further confidence in the fact that somewhere in the distance he could hear gunshots…surely a couple of more shots in a rural environment would not attract any undue attention. This was his plan and it felt to Bostock like a good one. He inwardly complimented himself once again on his cunning, feeling confident that he would be on the road to Manchester within the hour, job done!

  Having secreted himself at the north end of the viaduct Bostock told ‘Tiny’ to go back to the car remain out of sight and watch for anyone who may approach the viaduct from the south. Bostock did not have much faith in ’Tiny’ other than when it came to ‘caving in skulls’, ‘dooshing doors’ or playing console games. He did, however, think that his present assignment was well within his associates mental capacity.

  When Hodder received the call from Bostock giving him directions to the Viaduct he set off alone to reconnoitre the approach. Naturally, he did not take the obvious route and was startled to see the black Infiniti concealed behind some gorse bushes about fifty yards from the footpath leading to the Viaduct. As he watched he saw ‘Tiny’ approach the car, get in and tuck into a Snickers Bar…he clearly had his mind very much on the job in hand.

  Hodder then returned to his car and made a phone call. He just prayed that he was not being set up.

  About fifteen minutes later, he set off with a protesting Parks and headed for the Viaduct. Hodder, not normally a man taken to violence he struck Parks very hard to the face telling him to ‘Shut the fuck up’! This seemed have a truly profound effect on Parks. Gone was his flippant arrogance, gone was his confidence and gone was the colour from his face, apart from a slight reddening beneath his left eye. Parks seemed to sense that something quite unlike he had ever experienced before in his wasted little life was happening to him, and that worse still, that it was happening to him now.

  Hodder did is best to ignore the Infiniti concealed in the gorse…he suspected that his progress towards the Viaduct was being relayed to Bostock as he walked. When he came off the phone ‘Tiny’ was alerted by a gentle rap on the driver’s door window…he instinctively pressed the button and in keeping with Infiniti quality control the window slid silently down. A large bandaged fist crashed into his face sending his head rocking sideways. The same bandaged hand reached into the car and removed the ignition keys.

  The driver’s door was immediately opened, and ‘Tiny’ was hauled out and as ‘Big Neil’ stood him up against the offside of the car, he was hit again, again and again with an aluminium baseball bat which made a high pitched ‘ping’ upon contact. Oh, how ‘Big Neil’ loved that sound!

  ‘First Aid’ who was standing nearby, did not say a word to ‘Big Neil’…he knew that this was ‘payback’ for the ‘crucifixion’ outside his home. He looked on in quiet admiration thinking ‘It is so good to see a man happy in his work’.

  ‘Tiny’s coat was then removed and handed to ‘First Aid’…It was a little too big for him but he put it on anyway. He then returned to his vehicle, gave ‘Big Neil’ a thumbs up and the contents of a box from his X5, before driving to Kielder Castle where he parked up and began to walk south upon the disused railway line towards the Viaduct.

  The Viaduct, for years off the beaten track, is one of the least well known attractions at Kielder Water, and as such visitor numbers can be erratic. Burrows did not want any witnesses and the success or otherwise of his mission would be determined by any passing walkers. As Burrows walked towards the Viaduct, he was keenly aware that his reputation was on the line and that effectively his whole future was very much in the balance…he was effectively in the hands of others. He generally did not get nervous but in truth, he had never embarked on such an unpredictable enterprise, at least not since he was a young up and coming criminal.

  Burrows prided himself on his meticulous planning and cool demeanour. He knew that generally, he held most, if not all of the cards, for most, if not all of the time. He could not be so confident on this occasion. He was working in unison with a Police Officer, and a corrupt one at that. This could prove to very tricky and very messy.

  Baxter was becoming increasingly agitated with the whingeing Palma who despite not being able to see what he was doing was unable to sit still for more than a few minutes. He kept walking around the pitch black interior of the monument his footfalls unsteady as he clattered into the scaffolding poles and other debris. ‘Look Davy…just sit down and relax…we can’t do anything until Hodder comes back…and even that may be quite some time so for the sake of my sanity and your health sit down’.

  From somewhere inside the base of the monument Palma said ‘We are as good as dead…your mate has seen to that’. Very much in the style of Corporal Jones Baxter said ‘Don’t panic’ as he too began to inwardly panic. Baxter then began to reflect how just when he had met Hannah, Hodder, somehow, without any effort whatsoever, managed to screw the whole thing up. This was, after all, not Baxter’s problem but he was very much in the epicentre of the crisis and completely unable to do anything about it.

  Baxter decided to sit tight for a couple of hours…this should give Hodder enough time to ‘fix’ whatever he had to ‘fix’ or fail whilst trying to do just that. If at the end of those two hours Hodder had not returned then he was going to try to attract the attention of any walkers who may be strolling by the monument.

  Whilst formulating this plan, Baxter felt as if he was betraying Hodder, but as he fought with his inner self, he heard the words of Hannah, always so sensible, telling him not to be so naive and that he was not there by choice but at the whim of the wildly unpredictable Jim Hodder. ‘No’, concluded Baxter, ‘He is not getting away with this’. Why was it he wondered, that just as his own life seemed to be changing direction for the better, that that conniving bastard Hodder had managed to trick him and screw it all up?

  As he thought deeply about the situation, he concluded that Palma may be right after all…maybe they were ‘as good as dead’.

  Hodder, his collar up against the torrential rain, walked towards the Viaduct. He was keenly aware that Bostock’s ‘heavy’ in the Infiniti may be following him and reporting his every move to his boss. He was reluctant to look behind for fear of alerting
Parks to his concerns.

  Parks for his part, was deeply confused…even he could work out that he was nowhere near a police station, and that it was highly likely that he would not be going to one anytime soon. Hodder held him firmly by the upper arm as the prisoner shuffled uneasily forward unaware of what lay ahead. Each step tightened the knot in his stomach and drew him closer to his destiny.

  Hodder need not have worried that ‘Tiny’ was following behind. Unfortunately for ‘Tiny’, he was having problems of his own. At that very moment, ‘Tiny’ who had been placed back into the driver’s seat had just had his hands tethered to the steering wheel with ‘cable ties’. ‘Tiny’ was able to grapple one hand free and pressed the horn…he instantly regretted this because ‘Big Neil’ launched another volley of blows to his head. ‘That did the trick’ thought Neil, as all resistance seemed to drain from ‘Tiny’.

  Paradoxically, ‘Big Neil’ blamed ‘Tiny’ for the pain to his knuckles caused by the barrage, so, he hit him once again, just for good measure!

  Tiny’s second hand was securely attached to the steering wheel, and ‘Big Neil’ concluded that it was about time for a drink. Now, ’Big Neil’ was nothing if not professional, and that unlike the reckless Hodder, he never drank whilst working. Indeed, it was his maxim that drinking on duty ‘dulled your senses and you lost your edge’.

  No, it was ‘Tiny’ who was going to have a drink. So, putting on surgical gloves, the gangster set about pouring as much ‘Snide Vodka’ down his victim’s throat as he could. Naturally, the bigger of the big men could offer little resistance other than to spit out the Vodka or simply let it dribble down his chin and onto his clothing.

  ‘Big Neil’ did not lose a heartbeat. He would not rest until at least a couple of bottles of the stuff had been ‘emptied’ into ‘Tiny’…How was ‘Big Neil’ to know that ‘Tiny’ was teetotal despising alcohol, so, that even if the circumstances had have been different, he would have put up a brave fight anyway. However, resistance was utterly pointless. If he was nothing else, ‘Big Neil’ was a generous host, and after about ten minutes of dribbling, pouring, spitting and spluttering, ‘Big Neil’ calculated that ‘Tiny’ had consumed enough alcohol for the job in hand.

  His work here was not yet done and ’Big Neil’ picked up the hosepipe and exhaust filler which was lying on the ground behind the Infiniti. With the trained hand of the serial sadist, he then inserted the hosepipe deep into the exhaust pipe of the car before sealing the gaps around the hose with the exhaust pipe filler which acted as a sealant as the heat generated by the fumes from the engine caused it to harden.

  ‘Big Neil’ slid the ‘open end’ of the hosepipe in through a small gap in the driver’s door window, he then entered the car via the front passenger door, and being careful not to disturb the sleeping ‘Tiny’ he sealed the gaps around the pipe with duct tape. He then removed the cable ties, giving ‘Tiny’ one last right hook. By his own calculations, ‘Big Neil’ thought criminals everywhere must account for about eighty percent of the duct tape market.

  ‘Tiny’ who was drifting in and out of a drunken stupor as the engine was turned on, had no idea that the Coroner would later record a verdict of suicide.

  Concealed amongst the trees at the northern end of the Viaduct, Bostock thought that he heard the sound of a car horn in the distance. He thought that it may be ‘Tiny’ trying to alert him to some impending danger but then realised that even the cerebrally challenged ‘Tiny’ would probably call his mobile.

  All things considered, it was probably a near miss between a tourist and a ‘Logger’ on the C200. As he waited for the inevitable showdown with Hodder, Bostock toyed with idea of what meal he was going to order that evening from Shere Khan, the famed Indian restaurant on the Curry Mile in Manchester.

  Whatever it was, it was going to be better than the diet of Kebabs and Burgers that ‘Tiny’ had until that morning seemed to survive on.

  A few minutes later Bostock became aware of rustling of the grass upon the Viaduct, as he looked from the safety of the trees he saw Hodder and Parks walking towards him. Buoyed with confidence that the job would soon be over, and that he would be heading back to his home town imminently, he and a hooded Lauren, emerged from the trees.

  Hodder saw that Bostock was standing to the left of Lauren holding her roughly by the upper arm. In his right hand was a revolver of sorts. Hodder’s natural hatred of firearms meant that his knowledge of these weapons was limited to say the least. Bostock and Lauren continued to walk slowly forwards as Hodder and Parks did likewise. When they were at a point midway along the Viaduct Hodder was reminded of a whole series of Cold War/Espionage movies that he had seen over the years when an exchange of prisoners would take place. With any luck this ‘exchange’ would ‘go off’ without a hitch and he could set about getting his life back on track regardless of the consequences that it may have upon his career.

  ‘Mr Hodder…how nice to see you again…it’s very good to see that you have brought me my package’.

  Hodder saw a visible change in Lauren’s stance as she seemed to sense that one way or the other that her ordeal may be over soon. She inwardly pleaded, her internal voice saying ‘Please help me Dad’.

  ‘Come on…lets get this over and done with’ said Hodder.

  ‘Okay’ replied Bostock…’on the count of three’.

  ‘One’…’Come on’ thought Hodder ‘Do you really have to string it out this way’?

  ‘Two’…I’m going to make you sweat’ thought Bostock.

  ‘Three’…with that Hodder released his grip on Parks removed his handcuffs and motioned him towards Bostock.

  As much as he despised Parks it was heart breaking watching a man, even a man as odious as Parks, walking to his death. Bostock calmly raised the gun and said to Parks ‘What is your name’…a plainly terrified Parks mumbled out ‘Dean’. ‘Dean who’? spat out Bostock the hatred in his voice palpable.

  ‘Dean P..P..Parks’.

  ‘Okay Dean…keep walking towards me’. As he began to shuffle forward, Parks looked over his shoulder at Hodder, a mournful, inevitable look in his eyes. In that second, Hodder knew what a condemned man walking towards the gallows must have felt.

  As Parks reached Bostock the gun was directed towards Hodder ‘This is it’ he thought…‘We are all going to get a bullet’.

  ‘Were you really stupid enough to trust me Hodder’…your daughter is my insurance policy’ and with that, he began to shuffle backwards towards the trees, still holding onto Lauren with the gun alternating between Hodder and Parks.

  Do not follow me Mr Hodder…or your daughter will suffer’.

  As the three of them disappeared from view, Hodder was glued to the spot. He did not know if Bostock’s associate was nearby with orders to shoot him if he moved.

  A couple of seconds later the country silence was shattered by two rapid gunshots. ‘The bastard’ thought Hodder as he sprinted towards the northern end of the Viaduct.

  When he was about twenty yards from the ‘arch of trees’ he stopped dead in his tracks as Lauren was led onto the Viaduct by Burrows. Burrows too had a weapon in his hand and for the second time in as many minutes, Hodder thought that both Lauren’s and own his life were being held in the balance by a criminal.

  Burrows silently gestured towards Hodder who began to walk towards his fate.

  Burrows raised his gloved clad hand as a signal for Hodder to stop when he was about five yards away from Lauren and himself. Their eyes connected as Burrows released his grip on Lauren…in that moment Hodder knew that he had a lot more in common with Burrows and his like, than he cared to admit.

  Though no words were spoken…Burrows reached out offered his hand to Hodder who instinctively moved forward and shook it. Though not a freemason, Hodder recognised a Masonic handshake…’Mm, Quite senior’ was his immediate thought.

  As a result of the handshake, Burrows concluded that Hodder was not a member of ‘The Lodge’.


  As their flesh touched, they connected in more than a physical sense. Hodder knew that ‘it was over’…the status quo had been restored. Also, in that instant he knew that his adversarial relationship with Burrows, who would still run his ‘empire’ with an iron grip, would continue.

  On the plus side, the police in general, and Hodder in particular, knew exactly where he stood with the man.

  Hodder also knew that in what passed for the modern world, that there was a lot worse than a man who made his fortune by the law of the jungle. There was a perverse code of conduct, governed by an equally perverse code of honour that few outside the secular world of organised crime would ever witness, let alone understand.

  In the meantime, he had a daughter and wife to reunite. Hodder mouthed the words ‘Thank You’ as he turned to walk away, still not wholly convinced that he would not be shot in the back. However, his greatest fear was not for himself. It was that Burrows would shoot Lauren, and that he would survive.

  How would he ever explain this to Grace?

  Lauren’s shoulders were shaking under the weight of her stifled tears. Hodder was reluctant to remove the hood still fearing that ‘Tiny’ may be waiting just around the next corner or behind the next tree to despatch them both. He wanted to shield her from any more trauma.

  As he walked he spoke quietly, but more compassionately than he had ever done so before. ‘We are nearly out of this darling…please trust me. Believe me, I had no idea that any of this would happen to you. I am truly sorry…when we get back to the car you can call your mum…she will be overjoyed to hear your voice…please forgive me.

  As Hodder and Lauren made their way back to his car he looked out of the corner of his eye at ‘Tiny’ who was still in the driver’s seat of the car. He seemed strangely oblivious to Hodder and Lauren’s presence.

  This was largely to do with the fact that he was dead.

  Once back in the car Hodder removed Lauren’s hood and ever so gently removed the duct tape from her mouth and hands. She winced as fine small hairs left their roots, tears of terror and relief flowed down her cheeks. He treated her with all the delicacy and love that one would treat a new born.

  In that moment, a moment that they alone would share, they truly connected.

  He embraced her, instantly exorcising all of the feelings of reluctant parenthood that he had kept suppressed over the years. His guilt, however, would take longer to dissipate, but he had finally ‘got it’, realising that his priorities had been so wrong for so long.

 

  For the first time in his life he felt like a father, and for the first time in her life Lauren felt like she had a father too. This was the strangest love that Hodder had ever experienced. This felt like a very pure form of love. It was not based on any form of physical attraction or sexual desire. This had an entirely organic, natural feeling that, to Hodder, a man so used to suppressing his feelings, felt utterly wonderful.

  Reality intruded once again as Hodder experienced a raging determination to get as far away from Kielder as he possibly could. He handed Lauren his phone saying ‘Give your mum a call’. However, Lauren’s hands were trembling so much that Hodder had to take the phone from her to make the call.

  Hodder did not want to spoil the moment. He wanted Grace to experience the high joy that was still surging through his veins.

  Unbeknown to Hodder, only a matter of minutes earlier, Burrows had been lying in wait behind Bostock and Lauren as Bostock prepared for the non-existent handover of prisoners. Burrows made his move when it was obvious to him that something was occurring on the Viaduct. He simply crept into position and waited for Bostock, and whoever accompanied him to return to the cover of the trees.

  He did not have to wait very long because a few moments later, Bostock backed into the canopy of trees not with one, but with two hostages. Only one would be leaving. Burrows discharged the first of his two shots into Bostock’s head, his grey matter staining Parks’ stolen tee shirt. Parks would not live long enough to complain his, life too, was over a matter of seconds later. Such was the speed and efficiency of Burrows that Parks did not have enough time to panic or attempt to escape. Burrows was nothing if not a perfectionist, and the bullet that exited through a wound at the back of his Park’s skull, took half of his now malfunctioning, dysfunctional brain with it, before lodging into the trunk of a Scots Pine some twenty yards away.

  However, out of no sense of loyalty or decency, the assassin led Lauren into the arms of Hodder. He did this entirely out of an unsaid understanding that they were now united by an unspoken and invisible bond, borne entirely out of crime. A crime jointly committed, that none of them would ever mention in ‘polite company’.

  As Hodder walked from the scene, ‘Big Neil’ remained out of sight standing at the southern approach to the Viaduct, he was present only to ensure that his ‘Boss’ was not compromised in any way. However, the man who had just killed ‘Tiny’ and who was untouched by his own actions, was strangely moved by the scene of Hodder being reunited with his daughter. Naturally, he would never admit it, ‘Big Neil’ was still too tough for that, besides, the video camera in his hand would shake too much if he got too emotional.

  ‘Big Neil’ waited for the sound of Hodder’s car to evaporate into the distance before ringing Burrows. He gave him the all clear and a few moments later Burrows emerged from the forest. No further words were spoken, but each man knew that the other had successfully completed the job in hand. Burrows returned to the Infiniti and deposited ‘Tiny’s’ coat in the car together with the revolver. Both items had just the correct amount of cordite upon them linking them to an unsolved murder in Birmingham.

  The Coroner would later record a verdict of murder in the case of Bostock, who died at the hands of ‘Tiny’. In the absence of any witnesses, the forensic evidence found at the scene would ‘prove’ the theory. This was all very clinical under the circumstances.

  Isn’t science a wonderful thing?

  There would be no verdict recoded in the case of Dean Parks, His body was later weighed down and together with Bostock’s dismantled gun he was dropped into the depths of Kielder Water. Burrows and ‘Big Neil’ who performed this act, knew nothing of the presence of Lower Plashetts, beneath the waves, and less still that, purely by coincidence, his body landed in the deconsecrated grounds of the parish church.

  Given the lifestyle of Parks, this was an act of utter sacrilege. However, the pike, trout and carp that inhabited the reservoir, would enjoy not only Parks but also the last packet of Love Hearts that he would ever buy. Meanwhile, the weapon would rust in pieces.

  Dean Parks, who had a loveless heart, was the product of a casual sexual encounter. He would not be mourned, or missed. However, the Department of Work and Pensions, would later write to his last known address, informing him that his benefits were being cancelled. This unfortunately named department, for he had neither worked, nor was he ever to become a pensioner, was just doing its job. However, Dean Parks’ final contribution to society, proved to be his only positive act of benefaction, in that by dying, he had unwittingly managed to reduce the unemployment figures by one.

  Let’s hear it for Dean!

  Burrows and ‘Big Neil’ had just done a ‘two for one’, that would later have Senior Officers in Greater Manchester ‘doing cartwheels’, however, the two gangsters would never get the credit that they fully deserved for their public spirited work.

  If the underworld was good for one thing it was covering your tracks. Talking of which, Burrows would later remove all identification from his vehicle which was to be burnt out by a minion in Leeds. Their disposable mobile phones were disposed into the depths of Kielder Water, whilst they were disposing of Parks. None of these three items would ever be found.

  Speaking of minions, CCTV evidence would later show that that at that precise moment Burrows and his Solicitor, the esteemed Francis Randall-Ord, were playing Blackjack in a casino on Tyneside.
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  Isn’t technology a wonderful thing?

  As Grace answered her phone, she instinctively looked at the display. She saw the name ‘Jim’ on the screen and immediately answered ‘Where the Fuck have you been I have been beyond myself’.

  ‘Mum. It’s me’ cried a barely audible Lauren ‘I’m safe. Dad is with me’. Bizarrely, Grace’s first response was to apologise for her profanity before saying ‘Where are you? What happened? Are you hurt’? This was Grace, and once again, too many questions, too quickly, but given the circumstances, perhaps she could be forgiven on this occasion.

  So, Hodder, always a risk taker, and oblivious to the horrendous consequences of a fixed penalty ticket for using a mobile phone whilst driving, took it from Lauren and spoke. Grace was quaking with emotion. She barraged Hodder with a seamless series of questions about ‘Where are you? Where have you been? When will you be back? Is she alright? Has our baby been harmed’? This parenthood ‘thing’ was really getting to Hodder. He had never considered Lauren to be ‘Our Baby’, correctly or otherwise, he had assumed that his role was to be a husband, albeit not a very good one at that, but, not for the first time that day, he was overwhelmed by the ‘sense of family’. A reality, that he had quite unwisely, chosen to ignore over the years. He may live to regret his folly, but at that moment he was swept up in the emotion of it all.

  But this was the here and now and, Hodder was Hodder, and in keeping with Hodder, he was reluctant to give any details of his whereabouts or what had happened. He promised Grace that he would be home in less than an hour. Before ending the call Grace said ‘I have Hannah with me…Is Jeff with you’?

  Hodder, who found himself thinking on autopilot, said ‘I will pick him up on the way’. Secretly, he was thinking ‘Oh fuck! Nearly forgot about him. I hope that he has not killed Palma’.

  Hodder held Lauren’s trembling right hand as he drove. The dilemma of what to tell her about her ordeal was running through his mind. She obviously knew that something violently dramatic had occurred, but for reasons of self-preservation he was going to have to attempt to coerce her into some accepting form of explanation whereby she would unwittingly protect him.

  Not for the first time in his life, or for that matter, in recent days, Hodder felt utterly loathsome about himself. So, Hodder set about setting up a scenario where he told Lauren that he had discovered that her collision was the result of an insurance scam whereby ‘Accidents’ were planned to enable the instigators to claim substantial damages for non-existent injuries.

  Lauren seemed to ‘buy’ this explanation, especially when he told her that she was being held in exchange for his insurance details…the bad guys couldn’t get anywhere with their bogus claim without these details. At this precise moment he praised the naivety of youth. He really pushed the boat out when he said ‘The bangs that you heard were from a shooting party…we were on private land and they were not very happy with us being there’. Hodder just hoped that the close proximity of the gunshots would not destroy his theory.

  At that point, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, Hodder realised that he would have to rid Lauren’s clothing of any forensic evidence. He then set about formulating a plan of ‘burgling’ Lauren’s room to retrieve the clothes, but, much more dauntingly, from his point of view, he had to remember how the fucking washer worked.

  Lauren was still on an emotional ‘low’, but she seemed to be entirely receptive to these ideas. Hodder, on the other hand, was ever mindful of his own need for survival, forced the issue even further, when he raised the subject of the last words spoken by Parks. He said ‘There was not anyone else with us. Do you understand’?

  Lauren responded by saying ‘But, I heard two voices’.

  Hodder said ‘Lauren, this has been a long and difficult day. There has been a lot for both of us to take in’. He took his eyes off the road and connected directly with her eyes. ‘There was only one person there…do you understand, please never tell anyone that you thought that you heard more than one voice…we could get into trouble and we have to be very careful’ and feeling like an utter toad, he continued ‘These people, will try to make our lives as difficult as possible, and if they find out that I gave them bogus insurance information, they will cause real problems for us…of course you can tell your mum’ (He hoped)

  Investing his future in an eighteen year old, he said ‘I am just pleased that the Shooting Party came along to scare off the bad guy’s’, but as he said this he had visions of an entirely different ‘Shooting Party’ altogether, the participants of which, were now well on their way back to Tyneside and eternal freedom.

  Hodder continued by saying ‘It would be a good idea if we did not mention that we were on private land. After all that we have been through I would not want either of us to get prosecuted’. In all of his years, Hodder had never known a person to be ‘done’ for civil trespass but he was banking on the theory that Lauren would not be so wise.

  As she regained her composure, Lauren called the hospital. She was relieved to hear that Ricky had been discharged and that he was being looked after by his parents.

  As Hodder drove, he reflected that his immediate future lay in the hands of a traumatised teenager, an accomplished career criminal and a corrupt solicitor. Moreover, as he headed for home he knew that there was a lot worse was yet to come and that there is no situation that Police Officer could not make worse.