Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (21 page)

Bridger thought about going to Matthews with
what he thought, maybe get a warrant for Jonas's address, but he
knew that his hunch alone would not cut it. He needed something
more. He wanted to show Matthews that he was capable.

"Jo, forget that, get on to the university
and find out the whereabouts of Jonas Clifton. We may need him. I'm
going downstairs to see how Becky is getting on", Bridger shouted
as he made his way out the door. He could feel his excitement
building. This had to be it; it was too much of a coincidence. He
just hoped Becky got Beth to talks; she might be able to fill in
some missing pieces.

As he approached the watch house, he
saw Becky coming the other way. "What did you
get?
”
he
queried.

"Not a lot, she started talking a little,
she's one angry little girl though. Under that quiet demeanor, she
has a vicious streak. I am not sure what you see is what you get
with her. Almost like a split personality. She did say that she had
bought the weed from Jonas. However, she was going to use it for
her and her boyfriend. She was seething that Jonas had just driven
off and left her. The only other thing was she said he got the
cannabis from an old warehouse building down by the wharf area;
there was a big padlock on the door locking it from the outside. He
had gone inside and she stayed in the car. She did not know the
exact place though".

"That's great Becky." Bridger almost kissed
her. Becky pulled away when he breathed in her direction.

"I think you may need to brush your teeth",
she said, screwing her face up in distaste.

The comment went unnoticed. "I think we may
have found who has Marion", he said. "We need to go up and see
Matthews. I'll explain on the way".

They made a stop on the second floor to let
the rest of the team know what was going on. The scene on the main
monitor had not changed. The pathetic broken figure of Marion
hanging limply, suspended on those ropes, made Bridger angry. How
could anybody be so cruel? This was beyond a joke, beyond revenge.
He did not know what this madman had in mind for Marion, but
whatever it was; he knew it would not end well. He just hoped they
could get to Jonas before it went any further. Looking at the clock
slowly ticking, he knew that time was disappearing, faster than he
would have liked.

"Where are we at with finding Jonas,
Jo?
”

Jo had just got off the phone. "The
university is expecting him in at eleven for a tutorial; it usually
lasts for an hour. He has not arrived yet; my contact will let me
know when he gets in. The listed address for him is one of the
university accommodation blocks. Executive apartments, room number
eleven. It's used for visiting staff and other VIP's but apparently
Jonas is in between addresses at the moment so they made an
exception".

"Well that fits with the timetable our
mystery man wants to keep with Marion. Jonas could have been with
Marion this morning, and after the tutorial will make it back to
start whatever he has planned", Bridger said.

"What's Jonas got to do with
this?
”
Grant asked.

Bridger explained his theory, quickly
outlining his thought process that led him to believe Jonas would
be the person behind the sick puppet show.

"That makes sense", Jo added, "He seemed to
have a thing for showiness, and I agree that the speech we all
heard does sound like the way Jonas was going on last night".

"Well we can safely assume that he has not
hidden Marion in his room at the apartments, that warehouse Beth
told Becky about seems like the best bet", Bridger said.

"But we don't have a clue where it is, apart
from in the wharf area". Becky said, "Beth could not be more
specific than that".

"Well let's get down to the university and
grab Jonas. At least that will stop anything happening to Marion",
John said.

"I think we had better hold off on
that", Bridger said, "We have no idea where the warehouse is, if we
grab Jonas to early he might not give us Marion's location, Jonas
strikes me as a person who thinks he is a bit smarter than everyone
else. It sounded to me like he wanted to solve all the
world
’
s
problems last night. Now it seems he has a personal problem with
Marion he needs solving. So we need to be a bit smarter ourselves
about this".

"What about the things he is saying",
Jo said, "He sounds like he is talking to his mother. And it sounds
like he has a past issue that needs resolving, but why is he taking
that out on Marion?
”

"I don't know what the issue is at the
moment Jo", Bridger said, "But whatever it is we won't give him
time to sort through it. I will go up and see Matthews; we will
need the surveillance squad on this. They can pick up Jonas from
outside the university; I am hoping he will lead us right to
Marion. Then we can go in and grab them both. Has anybody got any
other ideas?
”
he added, hoping for a bit of positive confirmation from his
colleagues about the decisions he was making.

Nobody said anything.

"Ok, Grant, can you give Stan Walton a bell
and give him a heads up, as soon as Matthews gives us the go ahead
I want his squad on the doors of that university. This is probably
our only opportunity; I don't want to mess it up".

"Right you are Sergeant", Grant said,
clicking his heels together and flicking him a mock salute. "Ohh
and I forgot to say, the two web site owners are playing hard to
get, and they say they can't leave the office until the close of
day.....
”

Bridger looked back at Grant his question
going unsaid.

"We were just on our way out to see them
before you came in Mike. Can't have them telling us what we can and
can't do", Grant added smiling.

Bridger looked at the clock, calculating the
time they had up their sleeves. "I'll come with you; we have time
to pay them a little visit after I see Matthews. I think we need to
make sure that whatever happens, it will not be broadcast into
cyberspace", he said, as he was heading for the door.

Standing in the lift on his own, he realised
that he was dog-tired. There was a slight burning sensation behind
his eyes. The breath mints had obviously worn off by the odour that
was now surrounding him in the confined space of the lift.

I must start drinking Vodka; he thought to
himself, it would smell less leaching out of my pores.

Reaching into his pockets, he fumbled
unsuccessfully for some more mints. Maybe I should just lay off the
drink a little instead, the thought tumbling inside his head.

He remembered why he was in the state he
was, and wondered what Laura was doing this morning. Whether she
was thinking about him or getting on with her day. The way
Bridger's day was going he had not had time to think about her at
all until that moment. His jaded mind would not respond to the
feelings he should be feeling. The door opened and he walked down
the corridor towards Matthew's office.

The door in the office just down from
Matthews was open and Bridger glanced in as he went by. Mrs. Watson
was sitting there dressed in her customary cardigan and floral
print dress. She looked a little bit happier than the last time he
had seen her, but still had fidgety nervous posture. Bridger was
about to go in and say something when he heard another voice
inside. Then he saw Glenn Gallagher move into view and hand her a
cup of tea. Her smile towards him looked friendly, as if she knew
him. They were about the same age, Bridger thought. He supposed
they could know each other, but something did not sit right with
what he just saw. It made sense that Mrs. Watson would be here,
they had obviously found her daughter on a website but had no idea
where she was. Mrs. Watson had a right to know what was going
on.

He should have already spoken to her;
he thought guiltily, it was something he had overlooked. What
bugged him more though was what she was doing speaking with
Gallagher and not Matthews? He was still pondering the question as
he knocked on Matthews
’
s door.

"Bridger, come in, close the door".

"I'd rather not", Bridger replied, thinking
of the way he smelt.

"Close the door".

Here we go, thought Bridger, as he closed
the door behind him.

"You look like shit Bridger and you smell
like a cheap brewery. It seems that is becoming a bit of a cliché
with you. Mrs. Watson has said pretty much the same thing about
your state in the weekend. Is that was what was affecting your
judgment. You are not on some stupid TV cop show Bridger; I do not
need fucken alcoholics on my team. It's not acceptable; I have a
good mind to stand you down for the day until you sober up".

Mrs. Watson's perception was not as slow as
he thought it was, Bridger thought.

"I didn't say anything when I was down
stairs about your appearance, only because the team does not need
any distractions while this is going on. They might have faith on
your abilities Bridger, pissed or not, but I do not. Mrs. Watson is
in the next room, she is beside herself. If this turns to shit
Bridger, then you have provided me with the perfect scapegoat".

Bridger knew that he was right, even if it
pained him to admit it. "I'm going through some personal problems
at the moment sir", he said lamely, not exactly the answer he
wanted to give.

"I don't give a shit Bridger, personal
problems stay at home, and you don't bring them to work. I've said
my piece; now what progress have you made".

Bridger, feeling slightly admonished,
outlined what they knew. He tried emphasizing his thought process,
trying to show Matthews he was capable, whatever he thought of him.
He realised he sounded just like a petulant schoolboy and silently
kicked himself. Not the image he wanted anyone to see.

Matthews listened intently to what he had to
say, nodding every so often. When he had finished, Matthews
surprised him by just saying, "It sounds reasonable Sergeant, get
on with it".

"Is there anything I should be telling
Mrs. Watson?
”
Bridger asked, before he left the room.

"It's under control Sergeant", was the only
answer he got.

Leaving the office Bridger could not help
but feel a little embarrassed. He knew he was a drinker, but no one
had ever pulled him up on it before, and for Mrs. Watson to notice,
that made it even worse. He was supposed to be a professional; he
did not feel very professional now. It was something he knew he
would have to face but right now, he forced himself to push the
thought to the back of his mind. He had to get on with the job; he
owed it to Marion, and all the other Marions that he may come
across in the future. Nevertheless, it would have been a hell of a
lot easier without a hangover.

He went back to the office and phoned Stan
Walton to arrange for the surveillance team to begin trying to
locate Jonas. He gave them a description of Jonas and the building
at the university where he was to be tutoring. Stan had assured him
that his boys would have it under control. Bridger knew Stan from
his days in uniform and knew that he was a capable officer. Once
the surveillance team had Jonas in their sights, he was not likely
to give them the slip. This made Bridger feel better about the
situation.

He looked over at the monitor to check on
Marion. There appeared to be no change in the circumstances, the
only change was Marion who looked like she had almost given up. Her
head was hanging down in defeat.

Not long now Marion, just hold on a few more
hours, he thought to himself.

Bridger saw that she was still moving,
although it was very slight, but at least that was a good sign. He
just hoped they would reach her before what came next, whatever
that was.

He asked John to start on the
paperwork for the search warrant. It would speed up the process
once they knew the address that Jonas was keeping Marion. Bridger
liked to think he was never one to cut corners but he knew from
experience that
the need to follow the correct process
could hinder good police work sometimes. Although this was one of
those times, he did not want some smartass lawyer appealing the
charges due to an illegal entry. He knew in the back of his mind
that he would be going into the building to get Marion, warrant or
no warrant.

The rules were there for a very good reason
and in Bridger's mind; they were what helped keep the public's
confidence in the way police operated. However, he did not want any
delays once they knew her location. Forcing the fuzzy feeling in
his head aside, he tried to think further ahead, he did not want to
miss anything. He looked at the computer screen again, trying to
see behind the light. What sort of set up did he have in there,
hiding in the dark, were there any potential weapons? He realised
that they may need some support to execute the warrant, so he also
phoned the team leader of the police armed offenders squad to let
him know he needed his men to enable a safe entry into the
warehouse.

Bridger was satisfied with what he had put
in place, Marion and Mrs. Watson deserved the best service he could
provide, not some jaded, fuzzyheaded excuse for a police officer.
He looked at the clock on the wall again, just over three hours to
go.

Leaving a sullen John in the office with Sam
to complete the necessary paperwork and look after the computer, he
took the rest of the team to pay a visit to the headquarters of
Revenge.com