The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To (22 page)

‘No, I would never hurt you, the way you have hurt me. I love you, Val.'

‘You should call the police,' Valerie suggested. ‘You've just killed a man, our marriage is over.' She foolishly felt that the danger was over.

‘What do you mean? I only killed him because I love you so much. He, The Ultimate, made me do it,' Brent stuttered, trying to justify his actions in the hope that his wife would change her mind and take his side.

‘He never made you do anything Brent. Anyway, he was right, I am only with you for your money and I stopped loving you when I met Conrad. You have taken that away from me. How can I ever forgive you? How could I ever love you again? You're a murderer now.'

The silence was broken by the sound of sirens wailing in the background. A neighbour had heard the noise, spotted Greg leaving and decided to call the police.

‘Here they come. They're coming for you Brent; you're going to prison Brent, out of my life. I'm not greedy, half of everything will do for starters while you're locked up.'

Brent felt the adrenalin return, though this time it filled him with uncontrollable rage. Pacing over to his wife, Brent took hold of the lamp that was on the bedside table and swung it in the direction of Valerie's head. She instinctively raised the pillow in front of her face. The crashing blow rocketed her head backwards, bouncing it off the wall behind. The impact spilt her skull and she felt the warm liquid ooze out and run down the back of her neck, continuing its journey down the crevice of her spine. Blackness filled her world; she knew her life had come to its end.

‘Fancy going like this,' she spoke in to the pillow that shielded her face. Sadly, she was the only person to hear her final sentence. Brent stood up straight, his body shaking as his overdose of adrenalin subsided.

‘STEP BACK FROM THE BODY, AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!' a voice commanded. Brent turned, almost in slow motion, to see who it was that had shouted at him. An armed policeman stood shining a torch at Brent's face, his pistol drawn, safety off. ‘ARMED POLICE, STEP AWAY FROM THE BODY SIR. I WILL ONLY ASK YOU ONE MORE TIME!' the uniformed officer ordered.

‘OK, OK, I'm not going to try to resist,' Brent replied.

‘LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR, FACE DOWN, PLACING YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK. I MUST WARN YOU THAT WE ARE ARMED AND ARE USING LIVE ROUNDS!' the officer continued as if reading from a script. Brent did as he was ordered. He was then bundled in to the back of a police van and taken to Kensington High Street Police Station.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

McFarland rang Terry from his car on his way to Terry's house.

‘Mate,' he began, ‘there's been another!'

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!' Terry replied. ‘Where this time?'

‘Lavender Gardens, Kensington.'

‘Yeah, I know where that is.'

‘I'm just pulling up outside your house now.'

‘OK I'm on my way. Two minutes…'

Terry grabbed his jacket and house keys before closing the front door behind him. He jogged to McFarland's car, trying to save a little more time.

‘Tell me what you know,' he ordered closing the car door.

‘They have a man in custody. OK, the police were called to the property by a worried neighbour. The neighbour had heard screaming coming from the next door flat and, after a while, looked out of a window to see if there was anything going on outside. She noticed a black shape, that seemed to have come from the building, quickly disappear into Kensington Gardens. When our boys arrived, there were two dead bodies, one male and the other female, and another male standing over the female's corpse. All in the bedroom, the dead male was lying on the bed. It seems that the woman was the wife of the only man alive and the dead guy was her lover. He says that our man in the black suit was there.'

‘It was obvious that he would strike again. How did the two die?' Terry was already thinking ahead.

‘The guy was electrocuted and the woman had her head smashed in.'

‘Murder weapons?'

‘A taser gun and a bedside lamp!'

‘Where is the prisoner being held?'

‘Kensington High Street nick.'

‘Name?'

‘Brent Hope.'

‘Let's go to the scene first, hey?'

‘Good idea, we can talk to him later.'

Once at the scene of the crime, both detectives started to look for inspiration. Terry started outside the building whilst McFarland went inside. Terry looked over at the park known as Kensington Gardens; he loved the way we named things according to their location.

***

‘Has a statement been taken from the neighbour?' McFarland asked one of the other detectives.

‘Yes, sir, though it's basically what we already know. The man in custody is being very helpful,' the rotund man replied.

‘OK, thanks,' McFarland half-heartedly replied.

McFarland's attention was drawn to the amount of water on the mattress, just enough to do the job he thought, a novice would have soaked it. As he leant forward, he took a whiff of that smell they had not been able to place at the first scene. It filled his nostrils.

‘What's that smell?'

‘That's pepper spray, sir,' the rotund detective replied.

‘Can we get a sample of that for analysing?'

‘Yes, sir, I'll get the forensic boys on it.'

‘It's all over this pillow,' he pointed out, so the detective could pass on the information.

***

Terry had walked all the way across Kensington Gardens. He knew that was where the getaway vehicle had been parked. No CCTV though. There were already officers combing the park looking for clues. Terry knew they would not find anything and decided to have a look inside the building. As he entered the flat, he looked at the door frame and noted that the lock did not seemed to have been forced. He could not understand how The Ultimate had got in. After talking to McFarland, the two detectives decided that it was time to talk to the man in custody – Brent Hope.

***

‘He's in interview room four, sir,' announced the desk sergeant.

‘Just through here?' McFarland asked.

‘Yes, sir, on your left,' the uniformed WPC replied, pressing an electronic button that released the heavy security door.

As they entered the room, Brent was sitting next to a man in a very expensive suit.

‘Hello, I'm Detective Inspector James McFarland, and this is Detective Inspector In Charge Terry Bane of New Scotland Yard,' he said, with pride.

‘Hello Detectives, I'm Mr Dominic Fortroy-Holmes, Mr Hope's lawyer.'

‘We would like to talk to Mr Hope with regards to the two recent murders at 5a Lavender Gardens and what his role was. What actually happened? Are you happy for us to do that?' McFarland enquired.

Brent nodded his acceptance.

‘Mr Hope, we are going to need your full co-operation if we are to get to the bottom of this,' Terry interrupted.

‘I have nothing to hide and I am willing to answer any of your questions – if I can,' Brent confirmed.

‘Tell us what exactly happened,' Terry instructed.

‘I was at home reading a book and sipping on a fine cognac, when I received a phone call. A man informed me that my wife was in a flat with another man having… sexual intercourse. He told me to come to the flat alone.'

‘Who was the man who phoned you?' Terry interrupted.

‘It later transpired that it was the man whom is now known as “The Ultimate”, detective.'

‘OK, please continue,' Terry nodded.

‘He told me where to go and I heard my wife's voice in the background…' Brent began to sob, ‘when I arrived I was shown into the bedroom. My wife was on the bed, and so was a man. The man's hands and feet were tied together. He then told me that my wife and this man had been having an affair for some time and that my wife was only with me for my money.'

‘Were they dressed or naked at this point?' Terry asked.

‘Naked. He said that when he walked in they were having sex!'

‘Did you believe him?'

‘Yes, I did.'

‘Why?'

‘Because the man still had a condom on his penis and my wife didn't even try to deny it. She told me after… about the affair.' He paused, taking a sip from the cup containing hot tea that his lawyer had bought him before the interview. ‘Val told me that she loved Conrad and that she didn't love me anymore… as far as she was concerned, our marriage was over.' Brent became more upset, reliving it all.

‘The man, “The Ultimate”, have you ever met him before?'

‘Come on… What kind of a question is that? I have no idea what this man looks like, let alone anything else about him,' Brent grimaced.

‘What about Mr Michaels, had you ever met him before?'

‘No, never!'

‘OK, tell us what happened next,' Terry wanted Brent to continue.

‘The Ultimate left the room and returned with a bowl of water. He then threw the water over Conrad and went on about choices saying that everything begins with choice and handed me that taser gun…'

‘Did he tell you that you had to use the taser gun? Did he tell you to shoot Conrad with it?' McFarland interrupted.

‘No, he didn't, he didn't say anything, he just gave it to me. I knew what he wanted me to do. I told Val to get off the bed because I didn't want to kill her. She got off and I shot him with the gun and when Conrad stopped moving, I looked and he was gone…' He placed his head in to his hands.

‘Do you mean The Ultimate was gone?'

‘Yes, who else would I mean?'

‘I'm just trying to get the facts here, Mr Hope,' Terry said reassuringly.

‘If he didn't tell you what to do, how did you know that was what he wanted you to do?' McFarland seemed confused.

‘Think about it, he threw water over Conrad and then gave me the gun… what do you think?' Brent snapped.

‘How much cognac had you had to drink, Mr Hope?'

‘What? Are you going to arrest me for drink driving too?'

‘Please answer the question. I'm just trying to understand what your state of mind may have been like.'

‘Put it this way, I was over the limit to drive but I wasn't drunk.'

‘Sometimes, when people are under the influence of alcohol, things can seem a bit blurry if you catch my drift.'

‘I do. But I'm recalling the events as they happened, with crystal clarity, detective.'

‘OK please continue…' Terry gave McFarland a gentle nudge.

‘Val then told me to call the police…'

‘Did you?'

‘No, we got in to an argument. We always argued. She told me that she was going to divorce me when I was in prison. She said that she was going to take half my money and start a new life. I lost it!' He stopped and looked at the man sitting opposite him. McFarland's eyes widened. ‘That's the first time in my life that I have ever lost control. I am a placid person, which was why she treated me so terribly. I always loved her, worshipped her, you know? I'll never stop loving her. She walked all over me and it was my overflowing love for her that allowed her to do it,' he said with a sincere look on his face.

‘Can you tell us about your wife's murder?' Terry was genuinely sorry for Brent, but he had a job to do.

‘Yes, sorry… I didn't want… I suppose if I couldn't have her I wasn't going to allow any other man to. When I saw her there with Conrad, I felt sick to my stomach, so when I heard that she was going to start a new life without me, I walked over to her and picked up the lamp and hit her with it.'

‘Where did you hit her?'

‘She had tried to hide behind a pillow. The pillow was over her face. I hit the pillow with the lamp and her head hit the wall behind her.'

‘How many times did you hit her, or should I say, hit the pillow with the lamp?'

‘I don't know… once maybe twice, but no more… No hold on, it was only once. I suppose I've blacked that out of my memory. I can remember picking the lamp up, then the rest is a little fuzzy. The next thing I remember is being told to move away from Val by a policeman pointing a gun at me.'

‘Who killed Conrad Michaels?' Terry did not want Brent to diversify.

‘I guess I did!'

‘And who killed Valerie Brent?'

‘I did!'

‘Did anyone force you, either mentally or forcefully, to kill the two victims? Did The Ultimate force you in to the actions that you took?'

‘No,' was his one word answer.

‘That said,' Brent's lawyer decided to break his silence, ‘The Ultimate lured my client to Mr Michaels' flat, premeditating the outcome. If The Ultimate had not contacted my client, then none of this would ever have happened.'

‘That The Ultimate orchestrated this, Mr Fortroy-Holmes, is a fact, but The Ultimate did not kill either Mr Michaels or Mrs Hope – your client did and your client has confessed as much.'

‘What's going to happen to me now?'

‘Let's not think about that now Mr Hope, what we need to concentrate on is how we are going catch this person, The Ultimate, the orchestrator. We know that you committed these terrible crimes, but we know that you did not do them as in a premeditated sense. We are going to recommend that you be charged with manslaughter because these murders were not premeditated. Do you understand what I have just told you?'

‘Yes… You must stop this man.' Brent reached out to Terry, as if he was pleading for him to save others from feeling the self-punishment that he was now going through.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Karen's eyes were fixated on the television screen. She could not believe what she was hearing, so she had to concentrate solidly in order for the newsflash to register in her brain. A single tear fell, landing on her lap, and she knew what she had to do. She picked up the cordless telephone and went in to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

‘Are you OK?' Karen's mother asked. Silence was her reply. Karen dialled the freephone number that was given during the newsflash, it rang only once.

‘Hello, New Scotland Yard, incident room.'

‘Hello, I know who's responsible for these murders. I know who the man in the rubber suit is… I know the identity of The Ultimate.'

‘OK, can I have your name please?'

‘Karen, Karen Hogan.'

‘Right then Miss Hogan what makes you think that you know who this guy is?'

‘He's my boyfriend. I'd rather do this face to face with someone, it'd be easier.' Karen's hands were shaking like a leaf, her heart pounded.

‘Fine, when could you come in to us?' the male call centre operative replied.

‘I can come in now. I'm only half an hour away. I have to talk to the detective that I saw on the news.'

‘OK, when you get here give reception your name and they will know why you are here. Don't tell them anything else, for security purposes, you understand?' the man on the phone softened his tone.

‘Yes, I'm on my way,' Karen replied, leaving the phone on her bed and darting out of the front door before she had time to change her mind.

***

‘McFarland,' the Scotsman said in to the microphone of his hands-free set.

‘Hello James. We've got a young lady, Miss Karen Hogan, coming in to see us. She claims to know who the guy is in the rubber suit. She says that The Ultimate is her boyfriend!'

‘It's Wardy,' he told Terry, who was sitting next to him in the car. ‘So Miss Hogan's on her way in now?'

‘Yes, that's what I just told you. Where are you?'

‘We're just leaving Kensington High Street nick, we've been interviewing the latest…'

‘I need you both to get back here as fast as you can.' Jasper rudely interrupted.

‘Yes, we're on our way,' McFarland ended the call.

Terry leant forward, flicking the siren and lights on. McFarland selected a lower gear and pushed the pedal under his right foot to the floor, the engine roared.

‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about?' Terry asked impatiently.

‘A woman has phoned the incident line claiming to know who The Ultimate is. She's on her way in to see us now,' he replied driving his car like a maniac.

On arrival, the two men headed directly for Jasper's office.

‘Where have you put her, sir?' Terry asked hurriedly.

‘She's in interview room one, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a bar of chocolate. Gentlemen I think that she is the real deal.'

‘What makes you think that? Have you talked to her, sir?' McFarland asked, his excitement evident.

‘Yes, I have spoken with her. You'll see what I mean when you talk to her.' He gestured them to leave his office. ‘Go on then, don't keep the poor girl waiting any longer and remember…' He paused. ‘It's taken a lot of courage for her to come in here today, she is a little upset and very fragile. Kid gloves fellas, treat her gently – that's an order.'

‘No worries,' Terry answered.

‘That was directed at you James,' Jasper confirmed.

‘Aye I know… no worries from me too, sir.'

As the two detectives entered the interview room, Karen sat quietly sipping her coffee. She automatically looked to see who was entering the room. A female officer kept her company. The opening door broke the stale air of silence.

‘Hello Miss Hogan. I am Detective Inspector James McFarland and my colleague is…' the Scotsman began his introduction.

‘I know who you are, and you know why I'm here,' she said bluntly. ‘Call me Karen,' she instructed.

‘OK, that's that out of the way. Tell us why you are here,' the Scotsman had been agitated by her previous outburst.

‘Gregory O'Hara is the man you want, he's The Ultimate,' she said quickly.

‘And why do you think that?' McFarland replied sarcastically.

‘Right then, here we go,' Karen replied, as to pace herself. ‘When the first one happened, I was at his flat with him, he had cooked. Once I had eaten I began to feel very weird, very tired, and I mean to an extent where I could not keep my eyes open. Greg had to undress me and put me to bed. I hadn't had loads to drink and I slept straight through. Greg had to wake me the next morning, so I think I was drugged by him. When the second murder happened, Greg and I had planned on a night out, but he cried off at the last minute, saying that something had popped up, and offered to take me out for lunch on the Sunday to make up for it.'

‘I can't see where you're going with this,' McFarland said slowly.

‘Give her a chance,' Terry was fixated. ‘Please continue Karen.'

‘Thank you,' she replied, shooting McFarland a sharp glare. ‘Sunday being the very next day, he took me to a restaurant in New Covent Garden, as we were seated we overheard a couple having a heated conversation, so I asked them to keep it down, and the woman was extremely rude to us, her husband was the perfect gentleman, apologising and he even bought us champagne. The manager of the restaurant gave us our meal on the house. We got very, very drunk. We went back to Greg's to sleep it off. When we woke up our heads were banging. I asked Greg if he had any pain killers. “In the medicine cabinet” he told me. When I looked, there were these tablets with a hand written label on, the label said “Knock Out Drops”, that was what he'd used to drug me. Another time, I went to his flat unexpected and he was all a flap when I arrived, something wasn't right. I went to the fridge to get a couple of beers. When I opened one of the bottles, I spilt some on the floor. I asked Greg for a cloth to clean up, “under the sink” he told me. When I removed the cloth, underneath was a half-empty bottle of embalming fluid. When I went back in to the living room, I noticed a leaflet on the floor under the coffee table. I picked it up and slipped it in my handbag. The leaflet was for an electronic taser gun, thanking Greg for his recent purchase! The couple in the restaurant were Brent and Valerie Hope. Greg worked with Hector on the bins before Greg got his road sweeping job and Martin's his so-called mate… I don't know the first man, though.' Tears were running down her face.

‘Would you like some time?' Terry asked. Both detectives and the female officer were taken back by Karen's revelation.

‘No, I'm OK.'

‘Something to drink, maybe?'

‘No thanks, I've still got this,' Karen replied, holding her half-full cup of coffee.

‘Do you still have the leaflet you mentioned?'

‘Yes, it's here,' she reached in to her handbag and gave Terry the leaflet.

‘Yes, you are right, this does confirm that Greg had purchased this from them. I wonder what other purchases he made.'

‘Have you confronted him about all this?' McFarland enquired. He felt a little out of order with the way he had spoken to Karen previously. ‘I apologise for my tone earlier.'

‘That's OK,' she replied. ‘No, I haven't tackled him about this. You must understand that when you meet Greg, you will think that this is all a bit crazy, he's not like this. On the surface at least. He's a kind, gentle person. OK he can be a bit of a lad at times, but that's what I loved about him. It's not that I'm trying to defend him it's just…' she had begun talking herself in circles.

‘We are going to need his address and work details as well as a signed statement from you. I am truly sorry for your heartache. We will have to name you when, or if it gets to court. You do understand that we will be unable to offer you any anonymity. As you are here on your own volition, we are unable to offer you any legal representation. You may want to have a solicitor present when you give your statement. We can supply you with a number for legal representation if you'd like.' McFarland tried his best to be sympathetic, but it was very difficult for him.

‘Karen, I know that what you have told us must have been very difficult for you. Thank you so much for coming here today and telling us what you know. I do believe that there may be a strong possibility that this is our man. We now will see what Greg has to say. We will keep your name out of it for as long as we can.' The genuineness of Terry's voice made Karen believe that she was doing the right thing.

‘I have written everything down – that's how I do things, to make sense of things, to get them straight in my own mind first. I did that whilst I waited for you to get here. Would it be OK if I went away for a couple of days to distance myself from Greg to try to give my head a chance to take it all in?' her tears appeared again.

‘Of course, but please don't leave the country, we may need to talk to you again. Be sure to leave a number that we can contact you on. If we have any news, you are going to be the first to know. Let's remember though, innocent until proven guilty. Just because things don't make sense sometimes, it doesn't mean that they always have to.'

‘It doesn't look good for him though, does it?' she confirmed.

‘My gut tells me, no… but let us talk to him first, hey?' Terry answered, with another question. The two men stood up and took turns to shake Karen's hand before leaving her in the company of the female officer.

‘Let's talk to Mr O'Hara,' Terry said.

‘Aye let's… I bet he won't be so cocky this time?' McFarland agreed.

‘We can pick up a warrant to search his flat. Check if he has a car, or some kind of transport, with the DVLA, please mate. If he does, we'll have to get a warrant to impound it. If O'Hara is our man, I want this done by the numbers McFarland. Nothing left to chance.'

‘I'm on it.'

They travelled directly to Greg's flat. Terry drove as McFarland had to make a couple of calls en route. One of the calls was to arrange for a search warrant, another was to the DVLA, and the last was to arrange for some uniformed officers to meet them there. They would need as much help as they were able to muster. They pulled up outside Greg's flat the uniformed officers were waiting.

‘Alright guys?' McFarland greeted. ‘Do you have the necessary paperwork?'

‘Yes, sir,' replied the most senior of the uniformed officers.

‘Thanks Sergeant,' McFarland said, acknowledging the stripes on the sleeve of the man's jacket.

‘Are you all we have?' Terry asked.

‘Yes, sir, we…' one of the other uniformed officers answered.

‘OK let's get on with it,' Terry replied pressing the button for the intercom to Greg's flat. They waited; McFarland pressed the button, holding it in longer than Terry had.

‘Hold your horses,' a voice warned. ‘Who is it?'

‘It's the police. We would like to ask you a few questions, just routine follow up. May we come in?'

‘Yeah, come on up,' Greg gestured casually.

The buzzing of the lock alerted them that he had released the security lock.

‘OK,' Terry said. ‘You two come with us. I want the others to watch all possible exits. I am not risking losing him if he decides to bolt.'

‘If he does, you must stop him,' McFarland added.

‘Hold on,' Terry said, turning in his tracks, ‘be prepared, this guy has used a taser gun and pepper spray. He is very dangerous. If there's a chance that he might get physical, then the fucking Queensbury rules go out the window.'

Greg was waiting for them as they reached his flat. He thought about Sharon, and how she had been a useful tool. Martin had shown courage, something he had not expected. He felt disappointed that he had been found so early in his crusade, though he always would have the comfort of knowing that he had served his purpose. He stretched his neck sideways in both directions, before he cleared his throat and readied himself.

‘What's this all about then? Fuck me, you seem a bit mob handed this time.'

‘Mr Gregory Jason O'Hara?' McFarland asked.

‘Yeah… is someone going to tell me what this is all about?' Greg replied, a little uneasy by the way the officers had swarmed up the stairs.

‘Mr O'Hara, we would like you to assist us with our enquiries, and we would prefer to do that at the local police station. You are under arrest on suspicion of kidnap, though we are not formally charging you with anything at this time. You do have a right to legal representation, though I must inform you that anything you say will be taken as evidence. Anything you do not say, cannot be used or relied upon at a later date. Do you understand?'

‘I think so,' Greg looked confused.

‘OK Mr O'Hara, we have a car waiting,' McFarland looked at Terry and nodded. ‘We must also alert you to the fact that we have obtained a warrant from the local magistrate that permits us to legally search these premises. Do you understand?' McFarland looked at Greg for a reaction.

‘You can fuck off. I want my brief here!' Greg had fire in his eyes.

‘Please don't make us use any unnecessary force on you Mr O'Hara,' McFarland smirked.

‘You fucking knob!' Greg said, panic-stricken.

Terry reached out to grab Greg, managing to obtain a firm grip of Greg's left arm, he tried to force Greg's arm around his back by twisting it. Greg turned and head-butted McFarland square on the nose. The detective's nose collapsed with the force of the blow; blood oozed from both nostrils. The bridge of McFarland's nose had split and as the skin tore, a gaping wound appeared.

‘You dirty bastard,' McFarland cursed.

During the ensuing struggle, uniformed officers pounced on Greg. The sheer barrage, forced Greg to the ground. ‘I'm gonna fucking nail you for this, you bastard,' McFarland cursed again, his once white shirt, now completely claret in colour.