Crucified

Chapter 3

Jack opened the front door and was overjoyed to see his six foot four American friend, Josh, standing on the porch. Although he’d aged, and his thick black hair was now speckled with white, he still looked fit. They shook hands, gave each other a manly hug and patted backs. Josh only had one large rucksack, explaining that he’d put his cases in left luggage at Euston station. Jack noticed his limp was more pronounced as they walked to the kitchen. Josh whistled in admiration at the new extension and open-plan layout.

‘Man, this is spectacular. What a difference, it’s three times the size.’

‘My mother’s “friend” did all the work with his crew. He’s also doing a loft conversion. Next time you stay, you’ll have a bedroom with en suite.’

Jack opened a bottle of whisky and poured two large glasses. They sat at the table. Josh filled him in about his family life, said he was no longer working as an undercover officer for the New York Police due to his further hearing loss. But they still employed him and he was currently doing a lecture tour speaking to police and prison officers across the UK. Josh said he’d spoken with DCI Clarke, who told him Jack was on sick leave.

‘What’s the problem?’

Jack waved his hand. ‘Oh, nothing, it’s just a ploy to extend my paternity leave.’

Josh knew Jack was hiding something and was about to press him when Penny walked in.

‘Josh!’ Penny gushed. ‘How lovely to see you again. How’s Louisiana? Do you still have a healthy appetite for roast leg of lamb with all the trimmings?’

‘Ha! Great memory, Ma’am. Your food was delicious, the best I’ve ever tasted. Talking of food...’ Josh beamed. ‘I wonder if you guys fancy going out to eat... on me, of course.’

Penny wished she could say yes. ‘We had something earlier but thank you for the offer. If you’re hungry, I can make you both something.’

‘No need, Mum,’ Jack said. ‘I bought two big steaks this afternoon.’

As Penny made herself a hot chocolate, Josh showed her photographs of his daughters on his mobile. Jack was impatient for Penny to leave but she was clearly enjoying herself and so it seemed was Josh.

‘Who’s that beautiful woman standing next to your daughters?’ Penny asked.

‘I intend to marry her as soon as my divorce is through,’ Josh said.

Penny tensed her shoulders disapprovingly but then forced a smile. ‘I’ll leave you boys to it, then.’

Just as Penny was leaving, Maggie walked in with the baby balanced on her hip. Josh leapt up, hands out, desperate to hold the newest addition to Jack’s family.

‘My God, he’s perfect. No wonder you went off sick, Jack.’ Josh held the baby in the crook of his arm and swayed from side to side. ‘I’d never want to let this guy out of my sight either. What’s his name?’

‘I want to call him Horatio, but Maggie doesn’t like it,’ Jack said.

Maggie smiled, playing it down. ‘For goodness’ sake, Jack, don’t start this again.’ Then she addressed Josh directly. ‘I think we’re going to call him Adam.’

‘I haven’t said yes, Maggie. And Josh will understand why. Remember the case we worked on, that big drug bust?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I remember. Adam Border. We spent months trying to track him down. He was suspected of killing his mother... dangerous bastard disappeared off the face of the earth.’

Maggie stared daggers at Jack. Why drop this bombshell for the first time in front of Josh?

‘Well, in that case, of course we won’t call our child Adam. Penny will be pleased. She didn’t like it either. Perhaps we’re back to naming him after your dad then.’

‘My kids’ names all start with J. So any inherited silver will have the same initials,’ Josh said. ‘Maybe call him Jake. Jake Warr. Or Junior.’

Jack raised his eyebrows in approval as Maggie took the baby back from Josh. She was not prepared to discuss her child’s name with yet another person.

‘Right, I’ll leave you two in peace unless you need me to make you something to eat.’

‘I’ve got it organised,’ Jack said. As he stepped in to kiss his son, Maggie shook her head at him, still unable to believe he hadn’t bothered to tell her why he was against the name Adam.

With Jack and Josh now alone, Jack topped up their whisky. ‘I’ll take you upstairs later to show you the loft extension. Maggie has been like a sergeant major, ensuring the bulk was done before the baby arrived.’

Josh pretended to shudder. ‘Adam Warr. Imagine. That’s the problem with our job, everything reminds us of someone we’d rather forget... I suppose Border sticks in your mind as the one that got away, even more so nowadays as I’m here giving warning lectures about some new drugs which I reckon will be taking hold in this country soon if you don’t do something about it.’

‘What did you make of DCI Clarke?’

‘Not that helpful. And quite evasive when I asked about you.’

Jack opened the fridge and took out two large T-bone steaks on a covered dish.

‘Clarke said you’d had a lengthy trial to deal with, and the defence council grilled you good and proper in the witness box.’

‘That’s putting it mildly. Did you see Laura at the station?’

Josh nodded, sipping his drink and giving himself time to think. ‘Bit awkward. We both knew that what we had going wasn’t the real deal. I wrote to her a few times when I went back to New York. Maybe she wanted more from me, but at the time I was still married, and to be honest, it was really a sort of one-night stand that went on for many nights!’

Jack smiled, although he knew Laura had been seriously smitten.

Josh continued. ‘We were on the Adam Border investigation when I met her. But I left the UK before it came to a conclusion. Laura said he was still on the run.’

‘Yeah, yeah, that’s right. How do you like your steak?’ Jack asked, not wanting Josh to talk anymore about the wanted man he’d let escape.

‘Rare. Can I do anything to help?’

‘No, everything’s under control. You just sit and relax.’

As Jack popped the chips into the air fryer, Josh poured himself another whisky. He took out a cigar, held a lighter to the tip and asked if it was OK to smoke indoors. Jack hesitated, knowing Maggie would loathe it, and the pause was enough for Josh. He got up, opened the conservatory door and stepped outside into the garden.

Jack set the table, opened a bottle of red wine to let it breathe, and then threw together a side salad. The T-bone steaks, one rare and one medium, took only a few minutes to cook, and the chips were done at the same time. The whole process had taken the same time as smoking half a cigar. Josh came in from the garden to see his host opening one drawer after another, looking for steak knives and napkins.

‘My God, this is a feast. And the steaks are the size we get in the States. Very much appreciated. Thank you, Jack.’

With everything dished up, Jack poured the wine; they toasted each other and tucked in.

Even though they had worked together, Josh felt he didn’t really know Jack all that well, and it had been a while since they’d had contact. Josh was a very experienced officer with an excellent ability to assess people quickly due to his years undercover. But he found Jack hard to fathom. There was a boyish enthusiasm to him and a charming openness, but he always felt Jack was holding a lot back. He definitely disapproved of Josh’s affair with Laura, for instance. It was Laura who’d said that Jack was on sick leave, but no one knew why. She also said he had changed a lot recently, putting it down to the absence of DCI Ridley.

Josh noticed how reticent Jack was when asked innocuous questions about returning to work. He avoided eye contact while distracting himself with clearing the dishes. He opened another bottle of wine and asked Josh where he was going to be travelling. Josh gave a rundown of the various stations he had already visited, some work he was doing with the UK National Crime Agency and a few prisons where he felt his talks would be beneficial. Josh noted Jack’s lack of interest, staring ahead as if not even listening. He instinctively knew something was deeply wrong, but didn’t want to ask in case it was personal, having sensed the tension between Maggie and Jack earlier.

‘I miss undercover work,’ Josh continued. ‘But it was getting tough with my hearing getting worse and then my leg. Sciatica is a bitch! And all you can do is stuff yourself with painkillers. My boss put this programme in my orbit, connected to stuff going on in San Francisco, and then after a few months there I was sent over to LA because they were in a similar situation.’

‘Situation?’ Jack asked, pouring them both another glass of wine.

‘There’s a fucking epidemic over there! Zombie drugs, killing thousands of young kids. Fentanyl is being sold mixed with cocaine and heroin. It’s a plague.’

Josh got up and stepped out for a second, saying he wanted to show Jack something. He returned with a small medical box, opening it at the table. He held up one of the small glass tubes.

‘When there’s an opioid overdose, from heroin or prescription drugs like Vicodin, OxyContin or Percocet, this little vial literally brings them back from the dead. Naloxone. You don’t even need a prescription. You can buy it from any pharmacy in the US. I’m not sure about here.’

Jack nodded. ‘Pharmacies don’t stock it here. But I think all emergency services carry it now. Police have been trained to use it since mid-2023. Well, that’s what’s supposed to be happening.’

‘I’ve been visiting all the known drug hangouts, first in San Francisco and then in LA, to get naloxone out there and save as many lives as possible. Junkies started carrying a vial at all times. You can see them administering it to each other out on the streets... Anyway, just as we’re making headway protecting people against the fucking mixed street drugs we know about, a brand new one sweeps through the inner cities.’ Josh’s level of passion doubled as he continued. ‘This one is strong enough to knock out an elephant. It’s called xylazine and wreaks havoc on users. The body count keeps mounting. Naloxone doesn’t have any reversal effect on xylazine; what happens with this poison is their flesh rots, and the skin opens up with horrific lesions that don’t heal. Amputating the limb is the only way to stop the spread around the body.’

‘But it’s not here in the UK?’ Jack showed proper interest for the first time.

‘It’s coming. That’s why I’m here. You’ve already had some deaths for sure. Your prisons have seen it. It’s sometimes known as tranq or sleep-cut. It’s a common veterinary tranquilliser used on cattle, horses and elephants. They inject it, swallow it or even crush the tablets into a powder so they can snort it. The dealers are also mixing it with fentanyl to get a greater high. Sometimes the user has no memory because it can cause amnesia, and as it’s a respiratory depressant, it causes the heart rate and blood pressure to plummet. They become total zombies, dying on their feet, and...’

Josh suddenly bowed his head, and his shoulders shook as he started sobbing.

Jack quickly pushed back his chair and moved to Josh’s side. ‘Hey, come on. Maybe it’s time you got some sleep. Jet lag’s messing with your head.’

Embarrassed, Josh covered his face with his hands as he wept, having kept in the horrors for so long. ‘Sorry, man, I’ve just seen so much.’ When he tried to get up from the table, he stumbled as his bad leg went from under him. Jack had to grab him by the shoulders and help him to stand. He guided Josh out of the kitchen, almost buckling under the weight of the big man, then helped him into the dining room and onto the blow-up bed. Josh flopped back, moaning. ‘Sorry for losing it, man, but what this stuff is doing to kids is a nightmare.’

‘Believe me, I understand when it comes to nightmares,’ Jack said, putting the pillows behind his friend’s head.

Josh adjusted his hearing aid. ‘What did you say?’

‘Nightmares. I have them too.’

‘Try living in one, day after day, night after night. To be honest, I’ve been sent on this so-called lecture tour because I was losing it... reality is I can’t take being at the centre of this sickness. In the past, I’ve always been able to handle it but... maybe twenty years is enough for any man. I’ve risked my life Christ knows how many times, even going undercover in Mexico to infiltrate a gang bringing the chemicals in from China to cook up the fentanyl.’

Josh looked over to Jack. He was staring into space, clearly no longer listening. Josh eased himself off the bed, pulling himself to his feet on Jack’s arm.

‘I need the bathroom, not drunk so much in years.’

Jack hurried ahead to hold open the door. ‘Downstairs loo is next to the kitchen. If you want to shower, there’s a family bathroom on the second floor, by the nursery.’

Jack watched as Josh unzipped his holdall and grab his toiletries bag.

‘Downstairs will be fine.’

Josh pressed hard on his leg as he limped from the room. Jack felt bad about zoning out. With all this talk of drugs, maybe Josh was hitting a little too close to home.

From the outside, the abandoned school looked completely derelict. Only the back bumper of a white Ford Transit van suggested any signs of life.

Indoors, the old drill hall was a hive of activity as four heavyset men were taking crates from the back of the room to the main doorway ready for transporting out.

In the dim light, a slender man leaned motionless over a canvas on an easel at the far side of the room. He was wearing a set of surgical binocular magnifying glasses for close examination of the brush strokes and a silk scarf covered his mouth and nose. He lowered the scarf briefly to take a drag on his cigarette. Every now and then, he glanced up to make sure his men were fulfilling his instructions to the letter. One of the men was cutting some bubble wrap from a ten-metre roll.

‘No!’ the slender man screamed. The men froze. ‘Muslin. Only muslin touches the canvas. How many times? Muslin, then straw, then the fucking bubble wrap. Bubble wrap leaves indents in the oils, clear as fucking day!’

The slender man turned from the easel with a sigh, and stood over them, watching their every move as the last paintings were finally packed inside the crates. One of the men opened the main door and they started loading the crates into the Ford Transit.

The slender man began to relax a little as he lowered the silk scarf and lit another cigarette. ‘Fucking imbecilic monkeys,’ he muttered, as the doors closed behind them. He unwound the scarf, tossing it aside before shaking out his thick shoulder-length hair, then removed his magnifying surgical glasses, placing them carefully in a leather box on a trestle table. Finally, Adam Border smiled.

Maggie finished the last breastfeed of the evening, then changed her still nameless baby’s nappy before taking him to his bassinet and tucking the blanket tightly around him. Then she went to collect a formula bottle for his next feed. Maggie paused on the landing; she couldn’t hear voices but heard the downstairs toilet flushing. Looking over the rail, she saw Josh moving slowly and painfully along the hall into the dining room. Next, Jack came out of the kitchen with a bottle of whisky and two glasses.

‘I’m going to bed,’ she said quietly.

Jack looked up at her. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Will you bring the baby monitor from the kitchen? I’ll probably crash out before you come up.’

‘OK, goodnight.’

Jack went into the dining room with the whiskies, but Josh was already crashed out and snoring, so Jack turned off the lights and went upstairs.

Maggie woke at around 4 a.m., annoyed that Jack had not brought up the baby monitor. She felt like waking him and sending him to go and get it but decided to let him sleep. She crept quietly into the nursery and could tell by the baby’s restless movements that he would soon want his next feed.

Maggie poured hot water from the kettle into a bowl and sub-merged the bottom of the baby’s bottle, waiting for the milk to warm while her thoughts drifted. She physically jumped when Josh walked into the kitchen wearing only his jockey shorts.

‘Oh, sorry, Maggie, I just came in for a glass of water.’

‘Oh, that’s all right,’ she said, recovering herself. ‘I’m just getting the baby’s bottle. I left Jack fast asleep, which is a blessing. I don’t know if he mentioned anything to you.’

Josh shrugged as he took a glass from a cupboard. ‘I’m afraid I sort of dominated the conversation. I had some personal stuff to get off my chest. Got a little emotional.’

Maggie sighed. ‘I wish Jack would. I was hoping he might talk to you. He has a sleep disorder. It got so bad I made him see a specialist. Such nightmares, Josh. It’s been very frightening. He punches and kicks out in his sleep, screaming and shouting. After a load of tests, they’ve pretty much diagnosed him as having parasomnia.’

‘Which is...?’

‘Oh, it’s basically caused by post-traumatic stress.’

Josh shook his head in disbelief. ‘Jack didn’t mention anything like that.’

‘That’s Jack, he won’t discuss it. I’ve tried to get him to tell me what these nightmares are about, but he says he can’t remember. It all started after he worked on a horrific serial killer case. I was hoping that he might talk to you about that.’

‘I have noticed a change in him, but the reality is we were never that close. And it’s been years since I last saw him’.

Maggie tested the warmed bottle, wrapping a linen cloth around it.

She sighed as she started towards the door, stopping at the table. Josh’s medical box was still open.

‘Naloxone, right? It’s an overdose reversal drug. A while back, we were given some training in how to use it. We’ve had some fentanyl problems at the hospital — we were even warned about discarding used dressings containing residue as it was being syphoned off by addicts. One of the specialists I work with told me about seeing young kids around Victoria station... at first, he thought they were statues, you know, kids trying to make a few quid, but they’re drugged out of their minds.’

Josh nodded. ‘That’s why I’m over here, giving lectures about it.’

Maggie couldn’t help checking out the other drugs in the box. ‘You’ve quite a selection of opiates and tramadol patches.’

‘I have severe sciatica, so they’re prescribed for me. The reason I’m no longer working full-time for the NYPD...’

‘I’m sorry. You’re obviously in a lot of pain. But do please make sure this is not left here like this; we have a very nosey little girl in the house.’

Josh was about to reply when they both heard Jack screaming, then a crashing sound, followed by the baby crying.

‘He’ll have fallen out of bed,’ Maggie said calmly. ‘Can you go and see to Jack, please, while I check on the baby.’

Josh found Jack lying on the floor beside the bed with a fresh cut on his forehead. It seemed he had knocked over the bedside table and smashed the lamp, sending shards of glass across the wooden floor. Josh stepped on a jagged piece, swore loudly and staggered forwards in the dark. Still in the grip of the nightmare, Jack’s arms started flailing as he tried to push Josh away, then started punching him.

‘Jack, it’s me, it’s Josh... JACK!’ Josh slapped Jack’s face. After a moment Jack seemed to come to his senses. He looked like a frightened child.

‘Sorry... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.’

Josh helped him up and sat him on the bed.

‘Where’s Maggie?’ Jack asked anxiously.

‘She’s checking the baby. Let me see that cut on your forehead; the lampshade got broken.’ Josh walked on the edge of his foot to the bathroom so as not to push the glass deeper into his flesh. He got a wet facecloth, plasters and disinfectant, then cleaned and dressed Jack’s forehead before pulling the glass from the sole of his foot, disinfecting it and sticking on a plaster.

Neither said a word when Maggie walked in; Jack just gave her a helpless smile of apology. She gave Josh a pleading look, partly a thank you for taking care of Jack but she was also asking him for help.

‘You want to come downstairs and sit with me for a while, Jack?’ Josh asked, moving to the bedroom door.

‘No, I’m fine. You go back to bed.’

‘You’re not fine. If Maggie had been beside you, and God forbid with the baby in her arms, you could have done them both some serious damage. Talk to me, Jack. Come downstairs and talk to me.’

Jack glared at Maggie, knowing she must have been talking to Josh about him. He went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Maggie was almost in tears as she raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.

‘I’m sorry, Maggie,’ Josh said helplessly, ‘but that little tussle has left me in a bit of pain. I think I’m going to have to go to bed.’

‘Of course,’ Maggie said, quickly recovering herself.

He moved slowly downstairs to the kitchen and picked up his medical box and a glass of water before limping back into the dining room. Lowering himself onto the bed, he removed a hypodermic needle, then breaking the seal off the morphine capsule, he filled the syringe. He cleaned the skin with a sterilised wipe before injecting himself. Next, sipping the water, he took two OxyContin tablets, before carefully wrapping the needle in tissue to dispose of later.

Josh took slow, deep breaths as the morphine gradually dulled the pain. He leaned back against the pillows and began to feel his body relax. He could feel rather than hear the soft footfalls as Jack came and sat on the edge of the bed.

‘You need to talk, Jack, get whatever is tormenting you out into the open.’

Jack got up and started to pace around the bed.

‘Maggie mentioned you had a gruesome murder case before the nightmares started. Is that what it’s all about?’

Jack sat back on the bed and, in a flat, emotionless voice told Josh all about Rodney Middleton and the horrific things he’d done. The only time his voice started to crack was when he explained about the victims who were still unidentified.

Josh shook his head. ‘What a monster. But he could have gone on to kill many more kids if it wasn’t for you.’

Jack didn’t seem to hear him. ‘I had a meeting with my boss about the unidentified DNA found in the bastard’s basement. I was told the case would remain on file as the cost of trying to identify every suspected victim would be financially unacceptable — it would be reviewed in a year or two. Even though Middleton got a whole life sentence and will never get out of prison, I pleaded that we should make every effort to find out who else he killed, but it fell on deaf ears.’

With the drugs kicking in, Josh was now feeling in desperate need to go to sleep, but Jack seemed to have just got into his stride.

‘I twisted some arms and I was given five minutes to talk to Middleton in the Old Bailey cell while he was waiting to be taken to prison. When the cell door opened and he saw it was me, he looked proper scared. I told him all I wanted was for him to give me names, to give the families closure.’

‘But he didn’t,’ Josh guessed.

Jack clenched his fists as he recalled the feeling of pulling the shoelace tighter and tighter around Middleton’s neck — his red sweaty skin, his bulging, terrified eyes. Jack whispered more to himself than to Josh, ‘I wanted to kill him.’

‘I can understand how you must have felt, Jack. But take some satisfaction from knowing his life behind bars will be a nightmare. Even on the nonce wing, there’s a hierarchy of filth and my guess is that he’ll be close to the bottom.’

Jack didn’t seem to hear him. ‘The worst moment for me was when I left court, so pent-up with rage and frustration I wanted to scream. Then a woman came up to me clutching a photograph of her fifteen-year-old daughter who’d been missing for five years. She was certain Middleton had murdered her, even though her DNA wasn’t a match with any of the blood traces we found in the basement. I’d seen that woman in court every day, alongside all the other grieving parents... I promised I would do everything I could to find out what happened to her daughter, so when the investigation was closed, I felt I’d failed her.’ Jack finally rested his head in his hands.

‘You need to move on, Jack,’ Josh said gently. ‘Try and put this awful case behind you. I know it’s not easy, but...’

‘You don’t understand,’ Jack said angrily.

‘I’m trying to.’ Josh was feeling utterly worn out and desperate for sleep now. The only thing keeping him awake was the pain gradually returning as the medication began to wear off. He felt relieved when Jack got up and opened the door. He slowly turned round with a pitiful smile.

‘I’m losing it,’ he said simply before closing the door behind him.

Josh took another syringe from his medical box and gave himself another injection of morphine. He rested back on the pillows, feeling the pain slowly fading, and closed his eyes.