Impurity (DI Gardener 1)

He heard movements around his flat. Then the door closed. Realization dawned on him.

He was trapped! Unable to talk, move, or defend himself. Whoever had stabbed him with the syringe – filled him full of whatever – he was now at their mercy. His attacker appeared suddenly, dressed in black jeans, a jacket, and a balaclava with eyeholes.

“Hello, Frank.”

Myers didn’t recognize the voice. It certainly wasn’t Harry Clayton. The build was too small. From what he could see and hear, it was no one familiar. But it had to be someone who knew him. Otherwise, how did they know his name? It had to be someone they all knew. And if it wasn’t Clayton, there could only be one other suspect. Summers.

“I expect you’re wondering who I am. What I’m doing here, what this is all about. All will be revealed, Frank.”

Myers was frustrated. Why the hell couldn’t it have been tomorrow? He’d have been out of here by then.

“The stage you’re at now, you’re probably wondering what was in the syringe.” His attacker paused. “Well, even if you’re not, I’ll tell you. It’s called curare, Frank. I won’t bore you with detail. It’s a muscle relaxant, which is why you’re paralyzed. Exactly the correct amount, of course. Too much and I’d have killed you. I don’t want you to die too quickly. Or pain-free. Not after what you did to me.

“I do believe you’re thinking about it, now, Frank. You’re wondering who I am, what you’ve done to me. Perhaps you should also be thinking... when?”

He was surprised when his assailant’s next move was to straddle his body and sit on his fat belly. “Cosy this, isn’t it, Frank? Are you as comfortable as I am? I do hope so. Not hurting you, am I? Oh, silly me. You can’t talk, can you? Bet you’d like to.”

Myers’ temper flared.

When it wears off, you’d better be fucking quick, or you’re dead. No one fucks with me and gets away with it! Apart from Carol whatshername, of course!

“I bet there’s a few things you’d like to say to me. It’s the perfect opportunity, really, now we’re on our own. Not like that night all those years ago. The last time we met.”

Myers wondered where his Chinese takeaway was, realizing that the longer the situation went on, the more chance they had of being disturbed. He saw his attacker checking the time.

“I’ve almost outstayed my welcome, Frank, so let’s get down to business.”

Myers saw another syringe appear. It was held aloft, and a small amount of clear liquid was pumped out. He became aware of an obnoxious, vile odour.

“Awful smell, isn’t it, Frank? I think it rather suits you, myself. You, disgusting piece of filth. Have you any idea how long I’ve waited for this day?”

Myers wanted to scream with frustration. Whatever it was, he wanted to beg forgiveness, say he was sorry, even though he couldn’t remember what his attacker was talking about.

“You all thought you were so superior, didn’t you, Frank? You took advantage and played the numbers game. Four of you, one of me. Remember that night, do you? I was like you are now. Trapped. I couldn’t go anywhere. Couldn’t fight back.” His attacker paused. “So, how does it feel, Frank? Alone? Isolated? Frightened? I know them all well. I’ve lived them all so many times since. Well, here’s a small thought to hang on to. How you’re feeling now is far better than you’re going to feel in a few minutes.”

His assailant gazed at the syringe with emotionless eyes, giving nothing away.

Myers realized he wasn’t ready to die. He’d always considered himself hardened to the world and the people in it. That he could face up to anything. If truth be known, he’d never really suspected that AIDS would kill him. He’d blocked it out. But now, in the final stages, he was frightened. He’d bargain anything he had.

“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to inject your jugular vein with the contents of this syringe. You should just about be coming out of the paralysis now. As you come round, you’ll feel a sudden surge of adrenaline and your heart will pump much faster, which is perfect for this stuff. The faster it gets round, the quicker it can do the damage. It’s going to hurt, Frank. In fact, it’ll kill you!”

Myers felt the difference almost immediately as his attacker injected him with the second syringe. The paralysis subsided, only to be replaced by something new. The temperature of the room changed. Maybe it was only him. He wasn’t sure. He could feel his pulse racing. He was almost having palpitations. Myers was on fire. His whole body racked with pain.

“We’re nearly there, aren’t we, Frank? I think it’s time you knew.”

His assailant pulled off the hood. Myers finally came face to face with his killer. Plum’s killer. Thornwell’s. His eyes widened with disbelief.

“Quite a shock, isn’t it? Bet you thought you’d never see me again.”

Myers forced out an agonizing scream. He started to gulp air, struggling to inhale as much as possible. His throat was blocked. He was choking. As he started to convulse, his breathing problems were soon outweighed by further pain. Searing red-hot needles pricked his skin from the inside. His whole body was under an immense amount of pressure, reaching the point where he thought it was likely to burst. Although Myers could see, his vision was fast becoming impaired by a series of coloured lights.

He screamed and continued screaming until he could no longer hear himself, as the engulfing pain destroyed all his senses.

Chapter Forty-eight

Pete Nash climbed the stairs two at a time. The manager at The Lotus had freaked out on the phone, saying the cost of the meal would come out of his wages, and so would that of any other meals he was late with tonight. At the time he hadn’t cared. He had been stretched out across the back seat, engine running, heaters on, receiving a blowjob from Katie Crawford. She was nothing to look at, had no personality, and didn’t care how she earned her money. His wife didn’t like oral sex, or any sex for that matter, which meant he had to pay for most of what he wanted.

At the top of the second landing, Pete Nash stopped, knocking loudly. Then he heard the screaming. It sounded like someone was being tortured. He’d heard about the gangs in Leeds, the drug barons. They were mean bastards.