The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (32 page)

As the sweat of pain dripped down her back and she struggled hard not to be sick, Annette McElroy tried frantically to reason with the man she’d married. The good man, the hard-working man, the man who had never laid a hand on her or his kids. The man who until his affair the year before she would have said was the love of her life. He’d broken the trust between them then and despite all her efforts to mend things her love for him had finally died. Mike was just a symptom; the disease was the broken fidelity between Pete and her.

It was too dangerous to say that now and what would she say anyway? That she’d tried and failed to forgive him, and now she wanted a divorce because she’d met a man who didn’t make her feel like second choice? This new Pete would kill her.

Annette glanced up at the man she’d laughed and made love with for decades, the father of her children, a man she still loved in so many ways, just not in the one way that marriage required. Part of her thought she deserved what he was doing to her, after all she’d wanted to kill him when she’d learned of his affair. Now, somehow, he’d found out about hers and what had been a fantasy for her was being turned into action by him.

Through her thoughts and pain Annette registered that Pete had stopped moving towards her and was staring contemptuously at her instead. He hadn’t said a word since he’d entered the house but she prayed that he’d say something now. If he spoke she could reason with him, before he did something that destroyed four lives.

Pete McElroy’s lips curled into a sneer, a sentiment echoed in his words. “You’re a whore. My wife the whore.” His hand curled into a fist and Annette winced, anticipating the blow, but more words came instead. “Don’t tell me that you were working last night, because I checked and you weren’t.”

Even through her haze Annette knew he couldn’t have been sure. But his next words said that he was.

“I followed you all day. Saw his nice house; he must be rich. What’s his name, whore? And don’t bother to lie, I can find out myself.”

“Pete, it’s…”

She stopped mid-sentence, not knowing what to say. If she said he was mistaken he’d hit her again and she would never survive a full-on punch; he was a P.E. teacher and as fit as they came. What if she told him the truth? That there was someone but he wasn’t the reason that their marriage was finished. But she still couldn’t tell Pete that he was the reason, that his affair had frozen her heart and Mike Augustus was just the warmth that had thawed it after thirteen months. Whatever she said would anger him. Her only hope was to keep him talking until someone at work noticed she’d gone or one of the kids arrived home.

As the thoughts raced through Annette’s mind the pain in her crushed hand grew and the urge to throw-up overcame her. She turned her head and vomited and then the room began to swim. As her head hit the floor and the room faded away Annette Elizabeth McElroy’s last thought was that at least she wouldn’t feel her own death.

***

11.30 a.m.

“Has anyone seen Annette?”

Craig scanned the squad-room but Annette was nowhere to be seen. His question was answered by Davy shaking his head. Craig tutted to himself. He’d asked her to find out why Hazel Gormley hadn’t mentioned Eddie Rudd’s presence on the ward. It wasn’t like her not to come back with an answer in two hours. He turned to Nicky.

“Has she called you?”

Nicky shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since we briefed.”

For a moment Craig wondered if Annette was somewhere pursuing her romance then he dismissed the thought immediately; she was far too conscientious to do that when he’d set her a task. A frown creased his brow.

“Try her mobile, Nick.”

Nicky dialled the number and a few seconds later she shook her head. “It’s ringing but no answer.”

“Try the ward.”

Still no Annette. The hairs on Craig’s neck stood to attention. He turned to the rest of the team.

“Liam, where was Annette going?”

Liam grinned. “Home to change; she’d been a dirty stop-out last night. Then she was heading to the ward to speak to Gormley. That’s what she said anyway.”

There were many uncertain things in life. The outcome of a football match or a game of poker, the weather in the UK, the date and time of their next case, but to counter that the Universe had made some things fixed. Mountains and seas rarely shifted, the sun rose each morning and set every night and, most certain of all, if Annette McElroy said she was going to do something then without fail she did. Something was wrong. Craig headed for the lift, scattering orders in his wake.

“Liam, come with me, Nicky, call everywhere you can think of till she turns up. Davy, ping her mobile and find out where she is. Phone me with the information.”

Nicky called after them anxiously. “Where will you be?”

It was Liam who answered. He’d worked out where they were going and he looked as worried as Craig. “Annette’s house. Get the information, fast.”

***

Craig’s Audi screeched into the suburban street off Belfast’s Cregagh Road and halted outside the McElroy’s semi-detached home. Davy had confirmed that was where her phone was, so Annette had to be there as well. Craig was out of the car before Liam had unbuckled his belt.

“Wait, boss.”

Liam’s firm tone halted Craig in his tracks and he pulled him behind a hedge.

“If Pete’s found out she’s been playing away, God knows what’s happening inside that house.”

“That’s why we need to get in.”

“No. We need to find out where they are and what’s happening before we run off half-cocked. Pete’s a strong man; he’s beaten me in more arm wrestling matches than I can count. If he loses it he could kill her.”

Craig grew pale beneath his tan. Liam was right. If Annette was alone in the house with an angry Pete she could be badly hurt. Bile filled his throat. Pete had just expected her to suck-up his infidelity and carry on loving him as if she’d suffered nothing more than a broken nail, yet if his male pride was wounded by her doing the same, he could kill her. Pride and honour killings – women were still a long way from equality. He nodded.

“What do you suggest?”

He was the boss, but his temper was shredding his logic now; he’d kill Pete if he’d laid a finger on Annette. Liam was calmer, he should lead.

“OK. You’re fitter than me. Annette showed me round the house once and there’s a conservatory at the back, just below their bedroom. If you climb onto its roof you can see in. I’ll look for a ground-floor window to jemmy. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Craig took the roof and Liam took the ground and five minutes’ later they reconvened by the front door.

Craig’s face was grim. “She’s in the bedroom, on the floor. I can’t see any blood but her hand looks broken. She’s not moving.”

“Where’s Pete?”

Craig shook his head. “Not there. Probably downstairs somewhere. Did you find a way in?”

Liam nodded. “Yep. The conservatory door looks easy to crack. Time to pay Mr McElroy a visit.”

Craig motioned him on and hoped that he reached Pete before he did. Annette’s hand looked like it had been stamped on; bastard. Liam nipped to Craig’s car for a suitable tool then he moved to the back of the house, surprisingly stealthily for a man of his size. He jemmied open the door like a pro and Craig followed him in, signalling he’d take upstairs if Liam took the down. He wanted to check on Annette as quickly as he could. He was halfway up the staircase when he heard a thud and a crack. He ran back down and found Liam in the living room, with Pete McElroy sprawled out on the floor. Blood was gushing from his nose and Liam stood above him glaring in a way that said the best thing he could do was stay down. Craig shot him a look of disgust and raced up the stairs, pulling out his mobile to make the call.

“It’s the police. I need an ambulance at 53 Mission Road. Stat.”

As he cut the call Craig knelt down on the floor beside Annette. He checked her pulse, it was slow and strong, a testament to her fitness; all those years of circuit training had paid off. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically and he knew she would be OK. He glanced at her left hand ruefully, wishing that it said the same. It was deep purple and the bones were definitely broken, she was looking at an operation and months of physio, but compared to what could have happened she was fortunate.

As they waited for the ambulance Craig suddenly heard a key turn in the front door; the kids! He raced down the stairs, reaching the front door just as Jordan, Annette’s eighteen-year-old son, entered the hall. He stepped back, shocked to see Craig, then he glanced past him anxiously.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Mum?”

Craig gave a calm smile. “It’s all right, Jordan. Your mum just had a fall and hurt her hand. She’ll be fine. An ambulance is coming now. Why don’t you go with her to the hospital?”

The boy went to push past him but Craig gripped his arms and held him at the bottom of the stairs. Annette wouldn’t want her kids knowing what had happened unless she told them.

“It’s better if you stay here, Jordan. And phone your sister? She’ll want to meet you at the hospital.”

“What about Dad, he’ll want to know?”

Craig bit his tongue and prayed that Pete McElroy had the sense to keep quiet; Liam’s clenched fists should do the trick.

“I’ll tell your dad, don’t worry.”

Just then an ambulance pulled up and Craig thanked heavens for their quick response.

“There’s the ambulance now. Let’s step outside and let them do their work. They’ll look after your mum.” He nodded to the paramedics. “Upstairs, first room on the right. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Craig deposited Jordan in the front garden with a look that said to stay put, then he went to the bedroom to update the ambulance crew.

“I think she was knocked out and her hand stamped on. Don’t tell her son, please.”

As Annette was being lifted onto the stretcher her eyes fluttered open and she saw Craig.

“Sir…Pete…”

Craig grasped her uninjured hand. “We know, Annette. Jordan’s downstairs, we haven’t told him. I said you had a fall.”

Annette shook her head weakly. “No…don’t…I’ll…”

Her words faded away in a mist of pain-relief and Craig hoped that she would sleep for hours. He watched as the stretcher was loaded onto the ambulance and Jordan jumped in, then he set his jaw hard and re-entered the living room.

Liam was looming above Pete like the Colossus of Rhodes and each time his prisoner shifted his giant fists twitched. Craig signalled to stand him up and Liam grabbed McElroy aggressively by the shirt and hauled him to his feet.

Craig faced the wife-beater with a look of contempt, not trusting himself to speak. After a moment Liam realised it was up to him to cuff their prisoner and read him his rights. By the time the ritual was complete Craig had regained his self-control. While Pete’s hands had been free there was a risk that he would have swung for him, knowing that it would’ve been a fair fight. Now he was cuffed it would be unequal, the equivalent of what he had done to Annette.

Craig gestured Liam to put their prisoner on a chair and he complied with forceful glee. Craig sat down opposite and scanned McElroy’s face for some sign of remorse. But there was nothing there, nothing except hatred and anger for a wife he’d loved for twenty years. Craig’s voice was cold.

“What were you thinking of? She’s half your size.”

Pete sneered. “You and your bloody job have made her more of a man than me. She earns more; she’s more ambitious, pretty soon she’ll grow a set of balls. The Annette I married was a nurse; gentle, not this…this thug you’ve turned her into.”

Craig rose and glared down at him. “You pathetic little man. The truth is you’re not man enough to cope with a woman who’s doing well in her career. Annette’s one of the kindest, most caring women I’ve ever met but you only see what you want to.
You
had an affair and ruined your marriage. I don’t know what Annette’s chosen to do with her life since then but whatever it is it came after you’d destroyed her feelings for you.”

The sound of a car pulling up made Liam look out the window. “They’re here to take him to High Street. Do you want me to go with him?”

Craig scanned McElroy contemptuously and then shook his head. “No special treatment. Let uniform take him in.”

As Liam wrenched him to his feet the teacher turned to Craig and smirked. “Annette will never press charges. She won’t want to hurt the kids.”

Craig knew it was true, even though he would do his best to persuade her. They could prosecute without Annette’s support but he would never do it against her wishes, although Pete wasn’t going to know that for twenty-four hours. He smiled into the teacher’s face, his fists twitching.

“Didn’t you know? We don’t need the partner to press charges now. We can do it ourselves.”

Pete’s face fell and Liam shunted him to the car quickly, before he could see the defeated glance the detectives exchanged behind his back.

***

Four p.m.

“Right, let’s get on with it.”

Nicky scanned the squad-room and then stared at Craig curiously. Annette was nowhere to be seen and Carmen still wasn’t back from the shrink’s. Liam was glaring at nothing in particular, although the look in his eyes said his glare was reserved for someone specific, even if they weren’t there. Ken was picking at the edge of his notebook in an accelerating rhythm that said he was stressed and Davy was reclining at his desk. It was the motliest crew she’d ever seen and she said so.