The Fouth Cart 2

By Stephen R P Bailey

Nick Price's life is thrown into turmoil when a mysterious stranger stalks his family and wreaks havoc on his business. Convinced a malevolent presence has crawled out of his murky past to seek vengeance, his family fear for his sanity.

But not Detective Chief Inspector Jack Magee. He's not convinced Nick Price is the innocent party, especially since evidence left at the scene of a series of murders points to his involvement. Instead, he suspects Nick may be engaging in a tit-for-tat war of attrition against a drug baron trying to muscle in on his territory.

Believing that he'll find answers to his case in Nick Price's past, DCI Magee is lured into the deepest, darkest depths of Nick's former low life existence, only to find the most evil, murderous monster waiting for him. A monster the authorities can't touch. A monster determined to kill both DCI Magee and Nick Price.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephen R P Bailey
• Release date: Oct 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311234667

Stephen R P Bailey

I come from Lewes, the county town of East Sussex in the UK.I've had a varied career including working as a fashion model, television extra, radio news presenter, teacher, property developer and Chartered Accountant.Accountancy pays the bills, writing is the hobby, huge book sale royalties the dream.

Book preview

Chapter One

16th July 1991

The red brick, fifty-room, double-winged Victorian mansion set in fifteen acres of grounds in the village of Cooksbridge, just outside Lewes, had been the best buy Nick Price had ever made. For the last four years he had called the estate home for himself and his two grown-up kids. And today its opulence provided the perfect setting to celebrate his forty-first birthday in style.

Outside in the warm stillness of the day, he made his way towards the sitting lawn, in the middle of which was sited a marquee surrounded by at least a hundred guests sipping from glasses of champagne.

As he descended a short flight of steps to the lawn, an unshaven, dishevelled man, looking as though he’d slept the previous night in his scruffy ill-fitting suit, stumbled down a nearby grass bank waving an arm in the air. ‘Happy birthday, Nick,’ he called out from a distance. ‘Thanks for inviting me over today.’

Nick stopped, turned and gave a cordial smile in the direction of the man who had, in the dim and distant past, helped him survive a rough childhood. ‘You’re welcome, Sean. But do us a favour, don’t get drunk today. Don’t ruin the party again.’

‘Yeah,’ Sean murmured, head bowed, ‘Sorry about last time I was here. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘Yes you do. It was too much booze,’ Nick chided. ‘As usual, you dipstick!’

Sean visibly flinched. ‘Sorry, Nick, you know what I’m like. A couple of beers and I’m off my trolley, going on about my bloody ex-wives.’

Nick had heard it all before. ‘Yeah, well, you’ve had your fun in life, haven’t you? It just shows that flash cars and jewellery don’t count for nothing. We got away with over two million each, for Christ’s sake. You should have been more careful with your share.’

‘I’ve got something brewing, Nick. I’ve been offered this deal, see. It’s a chance to get back, big time. I just need your help …’

‘Forget it,’ Nick interrupted. ‘I’m not interested in anything dodgy. I’m not risking everything I’ve got going now. Not for anything.’

‘It’ll make me two grand, Nick, easily. You too, if you join in.’

‘Sean, old mate, you’re deluded. There’s no way I’m going back to our old ways. And I don’t reckon you should go it alone either. You don’t have what it takes. I keep telling you, you need to get a proper job. I’ll help you with anything straight, you know that.’

Sean shrugged in response.

Nick locked eyes with his old friend. ‘Look Sean, try to stay sober for today. Nittaya has put in a lot of hard work to make today go smooth, so don’t spoil it by creating a scene. If you must get drunk, fine, it’s your liver, but do us both a favour, leave early, right? And certainly before you get legless and make an idiot of yourself. Take as much booze home with you as you can carry. I’ll get someone to give you a lift back to Brighton when you’re ready to go, how’s that for a deal?’

Sean broke out into a chirpy smile. ‘Thanks, Nick,’ he replied and headed off in the direction of the marquee.

For a moment Nick stood gazing at the scene around him, the sun appearing to shine down benignly upon his realm. The contrast with the bleak existence of his youth in the east end of London was beyond belief.

A shout came from somewhere in front of him. ‘Nick! Over here!’

Nick squinted in the midday sun to see who the voice belonged to. He smiled on recognizing a face from the past, and set off in its direction.

For half an hour Nick indulged in social pleasantries; reminiscing with old friends, air-kissing women he had once known better, expressing his disbelief at how time flies and generally bemoaning the act of becoming middle-aged.

He was working his way towards the marquee when his son, Somsuk, caught his arm. ‘Hey, Som,’ he said. ‘How you doing? Will you join me for lunch?’

‘In a minute, Dad. But there’s something I want you to check out first.’

‘Sure, what’s up?’

Somsuk turned around and looked through the throng of guests. ‘I was talking to a man, over there by the pool, who said he’d like to say hello.’

‘Who was it?’

Somsuk squinted into the sun. ‘That’s strange. He seems to have disappeared.’

Nick repeated his question.

Somsuk fell silent for a few seconds in contemplation. ‘Actually, now you ask, I don’t think he gave me his name.’

‘Did he say how he knew me?’

‘Yeah, Bangkok. He knew all about Lucy’s Tiger Den. He said he wanted to look you up, that it had been a long time.’

Nick’s forehead creased in a frown. Surely he knew the names of everyone he’d invited today that had known him in Bangkok? And they were all surrounding him, within a few yards. ‘So where is he, Som?’

Somsuk scanned his surroundings. ‘That’s weird I can’t see him. We were having such a good conversation as well. He said he knew Mum well, and Nittaya and me when we were babies. He said he would often look after us and take us out for walks around Lumpini Park. Lots of little things about life when we were young. He was really interesting, reminiscing about Mum, how he missed her, how he’s missed out on watching us grow up.’

The casual talk of Maliwan, his long-dead wife, caused Nick to cross his arms. ‘What exactly did he look like?’

‘Well, he was Thai, I guess. He certainly introduced himself in Thai. He found it amusing I couldn’t respond. He said I used to gibber to him in Thai when I was a toddler.’ Somsuk shielded his eyes as he scanned the throng of people around the swimming pool. ‘Damn, where is he? I wanted to introduce him to Nit.’

Nick gripped his son’s arm. ‘Som, please, be careful. There are some people from Bangkok I’d rather not see again. It wasn’t always a bed of roses over there.’

‘Yeah, I know that, Dad. It’s just I’ve never met anyone who knew Mum so well, other than Sean that is. Look, I’ll catch up with you later, I want to find Nit and introduce her to that chap.’

Nick watched his son disappear into the crowd. He wanted to run after him, to warn him not to delve into the past; demons lay that way. Dark demons. And ever so gradually he became aware that the music had changed. The soft classical music playing in the background had faded out and in its place came a ballad, one that had dominated the happiest days of his life; one that now dominated the sadness of his life without his beloved wife. The emotive words of the song Unchained Melody drifted over the air.

Nick shivered involuntary as an intense coldness overcame him. And then it happened; right there in the open, he saw her. He grabbed the nearest arm for support as he felt his knees buckle. He gasped, held out a hand in her direction, but she had gone.

A blond, fetching young man, Paul Mansell, looked up from the hand gripping his arm and said, ‘Christ, Nick, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost, what’s the matter?’

In a state of shock and bewilderment, Nick turned to focus on the source of the voice. It made matters worse. It was another ghost from his past. ‘J…John?’ he stuttered.

‘Are you alright, Nick?’

Nick’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

‘Nick! What the hell’s wrong with you, Nick?’

Nick choked back a tear. ‘She’s going away, John.’

‘What? You’re not making sense, Nick.’

‘She’s going to die, John, help me.’

‘Oh dear god!’ Paul muttered. ‘Nick! Nick! Snap out of it. It’s Paul, not John. Come on, Nick, not here, not in front of all your friends.’

‘Is he alright?’ someone asked as a group converged around their host. ‘He’s gone very pale.’

‘He suffers from memory flashbacks,’ Paul responded. ‘Help me, will you, let’s get him seated.’

A nearby chair was fetched and Paul eased Nick into a comfortable position. Someone offered a glass of scotch. ‘Here, Nick. Have a drink of this.’

Nick did as he was instructed, spluttering as the drink caught him at the back of the throat.

‘You okay, now?’

Nick stuttered, ‘Who changed the music?’

‘Music? I hadn’t noticed a change.’

‘Some bugger changed the music, Paul. Go and find him, will you?’

‘Sure, Nick. You stay right there.’

As his eyes roamed the crowd, Nick shivered involuntarily as another rush of intense coldness descended upon him. Why did he feel that someone was walking over his grave?

It wasn’t long before a worried looking Nittaya came running over. ‘Daddy? What’s up, Daddy? Paul said you’d taken a turn.’

‘Nit, love, give us a hand, will you. It’s gone cold out here. I’m going inside.’

Chapter Two

6th March 1992

For the first time in many a year, Detective Chief Inspector Jack Magee decided he would take a long lunch break. Feeling on top of the world, and on an unusually bright sunny day, he put his overcoat on, wandered out of the Sussex Police Headquarters in Malling, headed towards the Ouse river and ambled leisurely along the riverside path, past the Tesco store, and sat down on a bench that yielded a good view of the Downs leading up to Black Cap to the west of Lewes.

‘You’re not skiving are you, sir?’

Magee smiled as his sergeant, DS Melissa Kelly, sat down next to him, and said, ‘It’s so beautiful today, Melissa, feels almost like Spring. I couldn’t bear being cooped up any longer with all that paperwork on my desk’

‘Share a sandwich?’

Magee peered at the offering in a cardboard case. ‘A shop bought one? No thanks, I’ve brought my own,’ he responded, showing off the contents of a brown paper bag.

‘Saving the pennies?’

Magee shrugged. ‘Not much choice, really. Life’s a bit expensive at the moment. Kids are growing up fast. There’s always something that needs to be bought. Jenny’s having to go back to work in a part-time job. We need the money.’

Melissa screwed her nose up at the sight of Magee’s sandwiches. ‘Those look disgusting, what are they?’

‘Egg mayonnaise. A bit too mushy, really. Still, at least it’s real food.’

Melissa held out a piece of bacon. ‘What’s this then, plastic?’

‘Might as well be for all the good it’ll do you. Have you any idea how much salt is in that sandwich?’

Melissa shrugged. ‘Who cares? I like the taste.’ She paused to tackle a mouthful of BLT. ‘So, having kids is getting to you is it? I seem to recall talking to you before about being bogged down in a marriage.’

Magee snorted. ‘For someone who is only what, twenty-three, you are remarkably cynical.’

‘I have a good teacher.’

Magee’s eyes lit up. ‘Me? You think I’m cynical?’

‘You are in the office.’

Magee chewed for a while, watching the antics of a couple of swans gliding past on the river, foraging for food. ‘Twenty-four years in the Force does that to you, I suppose. Twenty-four years this week, to be precise. I don’t mean to be, you know. Cynical that is.’

‘The stress of the job, is that your excuse?’

‘Occasionally, I suppose.’

‘But specifically?’

Magee sighed. ‘Life in general, I guess. It’s not easy trying to cope with a mortgage and a family.’

‘Do I detect a hint of sour grapes?’

Magee shook his head. ‘No, I just guess I’m miffed I haven’t been put up for promotion. I could do with a pay increase.’

‘It will come won’t it? In time?’

Magee chucked a crust towards the swans. ‘I’m not so sure on that. Since that ghastly episode last year with Somchai Polgeowit, my misidentified killer, getting roughed up in the cells, there’ve been some knives out for me. Most of the blame for that fiasco came my way, I get the feeling old scores were being settled. Still are, I reckon.’

‘That’s paranoia isn’t it?’

Magee finished eating, stood, screwed up his paper bag and threw it in a nearby bin. ‘Probably. Come on, we can’t stay here all day, your uncle will have his watchdogs out looking for us.’

‘Now that’s definitely paranoia!’

‘He’s just protecting you, Melissa, that’s all.’

‘From what?’

‘From me, probably. When he transferred you to my department last year he said he wanted you to see some action on the street. I think I may have overstepped the mark on occasion.’

‘Tough! That’s all I can say to that. Being involved in a serial murder case has to look impressive on my file.’

‘That’s as maybe, Melissa. But just remember one thing; I’ve upset a lot of people over the years, especially this last year. I’d hate for you to get dragged down with me.’

‘I can live with it.’

Magee stood waiting for Melissa to finish her sandwich. For both their sakes, he hoped his gut instinct was wrong. ‘You walking or driving?’

‘My car’s just there,’ Melissa replied, pointing over her boss’s shoulder. ‘It’s a bit chilly. I’ll give you a lift.’

Chapter Three

All the joy had been leached out of Nick Price. On a cold Sunday morning in early March, instead of being sat around a log file at home, he found himself standing outside the smouldering ruins of a nightclub just off Brighton seafront, reflecting upon past memories of the once proud building. He dug his hands deep into his trouser pockets in an attempt to keep them warm against a surprisingly strong wind coming off the sea. He wished he’d brought a coat, but then he hadn’t expected to have to hang around for quite so long.

‘Hey, you,’ he barked at a policeman ducking under a blue and yellow crime scene tape. ‘When can I get in to assess the damage?’

‘And who are you, sir?’

‘The sodding owner, that’s who!’ Nick shook his head despairingly. Who else would be so desperate to go inside a death trap, he wondered.

‘You’ll have to wait, sir,’ the officer replied. ‘The Fire Chief is still investigating the source of the incident.’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Nick’s mind was on the previous night’s takings stashed away in the manager’s safe. The way he saw it, there were far too many opportunities for the money to disappear in the current confusion.

His attention was caught by a young, leather-jacketed man approaching from his left. ‘Any luck, Paul?’

‘Nothing, Nick, sorry,’ Paul Mansell replied in a dejected manner. ‘No one saw a thing. I spoke to one of the firemen, he says they reckon the fire started about four-thirty. The alarm was raised just after five by the owner of the newsagents to the right over there. He saw smoke belching out when he opened up to bring the papers in.’

Nick looked towards the newsagents, assessing the likely order of events. ‘What time was the place closed up last night?’

‘Twelve minutes past three. So Darren says. He’s on his way over as we speak. He said he did the final sweep at just after three with the usual team. He said he followed procedures to the letter.’

Nick spat out, ‘Oh, really? Then how come my club’s now in this state?’

Paul shrugged.

Nick sighed. ‘Sorry, Paul. I know it’s not your fault. It’s just that I’m really pissed off. This was the first nightclub I opened, back in nineteen seventy-five. It was something special. It was my showcase, my way of showing everyone that I’d arrived. We had a good line up of celebrities on the opening night. It has some really fond memories for me.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Paul muttered in response. ‘Wish I’d been around to see it then. Popular with the in-crowd at the time, so I understand.’

‘It certainly was. And I’m real sorry it’s come to this.’ Nick sighed again and looked down at the ground. ‘Look Paul, I know you like to get off to Thailand whenever you can, but would you mind staying around a bit to help sort this out?’

Paul responded without hesitation, ‘Of course I don’t mind, Nick. I’ll stay on as long as it takes.’

Nick placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture. ‘Thanks. What about your own clients though?’

‘That’s okay, really. I can fit them around this. Anyway, I don’t have much on at the moment. To be honest, the life of a private investigator is not all it’s cracked up to be.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry, Nick. I’ll be with you all the way on this.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ Nick paused to watch a Fire Officer walk out of the building. ‘I need to get inside, Paul. I don’t want those greedy sods to get their hands on the safe. Do me a favour will you? Scout around some more, liven up any contacts you have, see if you can find out if there’s anything suspicious about this fire.’

‘You think this was no accident?’

Nick shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Paul. But I’ve got this bad feeling in my gut. There’ve been so many odd little things happen these last few months. Things I can’t explain, weird things, I suppose. Like I feel I’m being followed, spied upon.’

‘But nothing like this, surely?’

‘No, not like this. Not until now, that is.’

‘Have there been any threats?’

Nick scoffed. ‘Don’t be daft! No one would dare mess with me.’ Inwardly, he wasn’t so sure.

‘Someone trying to muscle in on your scene?’

‘There’ve always been a few youngsters trying to get into the market. It’s never worried me, there’s enough room in Brighton for all of us. Just so long as they don’t step on my toes.’

‘What about arson?’

‘You think this could be the work of a nutter? You think some freak would do this just for the hell of it?’

Paul shrugged. ‘Anything’s possible.’

‘They’d have to be a genuine mental case to try that on with one of my properties.’

‘Maybe they didn’t know it was yours.’

‘That’s possible, I suppose. Look, don’t those arson nutters hang around fires to watch their handiwork?’

‘It’s been known, I believe.’

‘Ask around, will you. Find out if any neighbour recalls seeing someone hanging around during the blaze. Maybe a CCTV camera picked up something we can use.’

‘I’ll give it a go. Catch ya later, Nick.’

‘Yeah, see ya, Paul,’ Nick grunted backwards, then added, ‘And don’t forget to bill me for your time. Just because you’re family, I don’t expect you to work for free.’

Paul gave a thumbs up sign as he walked off.

Nick stood watching the Fire Officer talking to a couple of journalists and wondered whether someone really was trying to get at him. Ever since that bugger had ruined his birthday party, switching records, things seemed to be going wrong for him. Unexplained fires, false bomb alerts, malicious telephone calls and, worst of all, a feeling that he was being stalked. His spine gave rent to an involuntary jerk, yet another cold feeling had crept over him. He turned around sharply, convinced he was being watched. An ice-cold fear had returned to his life.

Chapter Four

Magee was sitting behind his desk in the East Sussex Police Headquarters in Malling, Lewes, so engrossed in reading his morning newspaper that he didn’t hear the knock on his door. He gave a sigh of despair as his eyes fell to the small print under the banner headline Drug War on the streets of Brighton.

Melissa entered the room and stood patiently a moment before asking, ‘Anything wrong, sir?’

Magee jolted, startled by the interruption. He put the newspaper down, picked up a cup of tea, took a sip and replied with a scowl on his face, ‘Five dead this time. Almost certainly executions, judging by the sound of this article. That’s the sixth case of drug dealers being topped this last six months. I suppose that’s the price Brighton has to pay for becoming such a cosmopolitan town.’

‘It certainly goes with the territory, sir. Drugs, that is.’

Magee gulped down the remainder of his tea and muttered, ‘A great way to start the day.’

‘I’d have thought you’d be pleased we’d got some dealers off the streets.’

Magee grunted. ‘That’s not very charitable of you, Melissa. Anyway, it’s not us who are clearing them off the streets, as you put it.’

‘So who is?’

‘According to this rag, the police haven’t a clue who’s doing it.’

Melissa folded her arms. ‘Just as well it’s not your case then, isn’t it, sir?’

Magee frowned, not quite sure whether Melissa had made the remark tongue in cheek, or not. Speaking cautiously, he said, ‘Meaning what, may I ask?’

Melissa rolled her eyes, and said, ‘Oh, nothing, sir.’

Magee puckered his lips and decided to ignore the throw away comment. ‘We’ve got enough on our plate as it is without taking on such a high profile, very public case, as this drug war.’

‘Really?’ Melissa was surprised. ‘Has something new come in then?’

‘No, I meant in terms of paperwork.’ Magee pointed to a pile of folders on the corner of his desk. ‘I’ve still got that lot to sort through by tomorrow afternoon. Court papers, would you believe. I need to get the evidence all stacked up nicely. Not exactly a great use of my time, but then your uncle was most insistent upon it.’

‘The sins of the fathers should not be visited upon the children,’ Melissa replied with a stern look. ‘I refuse to be condemned for Superintendent Vaughan’s actions.’

‘That’s as maybe, but . . .’ Magee paused and stared in irritation at his telephone. ‘Talk of the devil, that’s his extension number on the display now.’

‘That’ll teach you to talk about him behind his back.’

‘He’s probably got the place bugged. He’s never trusted me.’

‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

‘Thanks a bunch,’ Magee muttered. ‘No, stay here, please. If he tries to dump more paperwork on me, I can pass it on to you.’ He grabbed the phone and answered politely, ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Morning, Magee, have you heard the news?’

Magee’s eyes rolled upwards. ‘And what news would that be, sir?’

‘There was a suspected arson attack on a nightclub in Brighton over the weekend. It's DCI Ryan's case but his team has yet to come up with any firm evidence. The nightclub's owner is Nick Price and he’s been on the phone demanding that we do more about it.’

Magee couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he pictured Nick Price giving the Superintendent an earful. Tongue firmly in cheek, he replied, ‘And what more could we do about it, sir?’

‘I want you to go and