Sleaford Noir 1 by Morris Kenyon (the best books of all time .txt) 📕

Carefully, with Morela's assistance, Arkadiusz slid and pushed Mulhearn's body into the passenger seat and then leaned over him to clunk-click the seatbelt. I thanked the two Poles for their help, slipped them a tenner, and then got behind the wheel. In my mirrors I saw them watch me drive out and turn onto Northgate.

My first stop was the tarmac expanse of the Tesco Extra car park. I took Mulhearn's SatNav out from its wallet in the glove locker and switched it on. I checked its list of pre-programmed locations. Mulhearn's home address in Grantham came up and I stored that information away for future use. Wheelan's house next and then what I was looking for. The location of Alexa, Wheelan's daughter's private school. As I expected, it wasn't far. Nowhere is in Sleaford.

The fresh air from the car park must have revived Mulhearn because he shifted position in his seat.

"Wha'...," he said thickly and tried to raise his arm to wipe the slobber from his chin. That bought him yet another deep sniff of the Halothane and he went under again. If anyone was a candidate for hepatotoxicity that day, it was Mulhearn.

Checking my watch, I saw I had plenty of time. I'd tried to play it nice but Wheelan and Mulhearn hadn't left me much choice so I had to play it nasty now. It wouldn't be the first time I'd been put in that position. I carried on through the town centre and then out along East Road following a bus marked as 'Town Service 1'. Surprised as I wouldn't have thought a one horse town like Sleaford would have needed more than one town service bus.

I pulled up outside Wheelan's daughter's private school. A large green and gold sign told me this was 'Sydenham Private Girl's School' founded in 1952 together with the name of the headmistress. The school looked like how you would imagine a private school to look like. It was a large red-brick building set well back from the road with tall, twisted chimneys on either side like an Elizabethan manor house.

What is it with Sleaford and mock Tudor architecture? Is that the only style permitted here? Ivy covered most of one wall and above the traffic noise along East Road I heard rooks cawing amongst a line of chestnuts. If the girls' parents were paying extra for Sydenham's appearance then they were getting value for money.

Leaning over, I pulled Mulhearn's mobile phone from his pocket. I scrolled down through his list of contacts until I came to the name I wanted. It was near the top. Alexa. Wheelan's moody fourteen year old daughter. Checking through Mulhearn's texts in the 'sent items' folder in his cell, I saw that he was a man of few words. Good.

I sent Alexa a text. 'Pickng u up 2day. M', it read. A moment later Mulhearn's mobile beeped at me. Alexa was also a girl of few words; at least to Mulhearn. 'OK.' No xxx's, LOLs or anything else on either side. I settled down in the seat to wait for school to finish.

Tuning the radio to BBC Radio 4 I listened to the presenters of Moneybox Live explain complex financial problems to pensioners. Me, I don't have their difficulties as I keep my money in a series of numbered offshore accounts. I don't know why everyone doesn't do the same. It's the best way to bank as long as you don't forget your account numbers and pass words.

Fortunately, I didn't have long to wait before a security guard wearing a yellow and blue contrast hi-viz jacket came out and lounged against the stone gate post. The man cast a glance up and down the street but then seemed lost in his own world until an elderly teacher came out and rang an old fashioned hand-bell in the yard.

Shortly after, one or two schoolgirls came out, followed by a few more and then a torrent, a Niagara of girls. Even from the other side of the road, I heard them laughing and chatting. Sydenham's uniform was an unflattering bottle green with yellow trim. Several of the girls had rolled up their skirts to way higher than any regulation length. That happened in my day, too. The security guard stood straighter, took his hands from his pockets and admired their legs as they passed. Pervert. He'd make a good friend for Dr. Nabi-Khan.

I thought Alexa would stand out with her dyed red hair but she wasn't the only schoolgirl sporting exotic hair colours. At one point I thought I'd made Alexa in the crowd but it wasn't her. I slumped down in my seat as much out of sight from the road as possible leaving Mulhearn breathing heavily, still comatose, in the Cherokee's passenger seat.

A gaggle of girls clustered around the bus stop. A few peered at one of their friends' smart phones. There was a little pushing and shoving but all good natured and restrained. They weren't boys after all. Their giggles came loud over the traffic along East Road.

Looking in the mirrors, I spotted Alexa in the crowd. Alexa stood by herself on the edge of the pavement, looking both ways until she spotted Mulhearn's Jeep Cherokee. She held a large bag. Then I lost sight of the girl as a Town Service 1 bus pulled up outside the school. I swore under my breath. No, she wouldn't get on the bus, I told myself, not when Mulhearn was taking her home.

But schoolgirls are erratic at the best of times. Moody and hormonal. Maybe Alexa had changed her mind at the last minute and had gone off with one of her friends instead. Perhaps she was going round to her friend's house to do her homework, listen to music and talk about celebs and boys.

I was telling myself to relax and take it easy when the bus pulled away from the kerb. There were far fewer schoolgirls by the bus stop now. Then I saw Alexa's vivid red hair. She looked both ways and then crossed East Road.

Alexa Wheelan was reaching out to the Cherokee's passenger door handle when she noticed Mulhearn's slumped body. The man was only held in place by his seatbelt and his face was loose and slack. More drool trickled down his chin and onto his shirt collar. The man looked seriously unwell at the moment. Shock and confusion flashed across her face. She even stopped chewing gum.

But by then it was too late. I was already out of my seat, around the Cherokee's bonnet and standing next to Alexa. I opened the rear passenger door. She turned her brown cow-like eyes up to mine. Her false eyelashes helped with that bovine look she was cultivating. But Alexa didn't look scared, only bemused.

"Mulhearn's taken sick," I explained as I held open the rear door. "Your Dad's asked me to take you home instead – and then I'll take this useless lump onto the Grantham and District Hospital."

Alexa thought for a moment. I could almost hear the cogs turning in the girl's brain. She might have inherited her Dad's ears but not his brains.

"You're Hennessy, aren't you?" Alexa said, her voice rising. "You burned..." Perhaps I'd misjudged Wheelan's daughter. But that was all she had time to say. Swiftly, I pushed Alexa onto the back seat of the Cherokee. Mulhearn himself might have been too strong but there was no way Alexa could resist. From my jacket pocket, I whipped out the yellow cloth and pressed it hard over the girl's face. From my other pocket I took out the bottle of Halothane, unscrewed the top and poured some drops onto the cloth.

As soon as the sickly smell hit Alexa's nose, the poor girl struggled even harder. Her feet flailed and drummed on the Cherokee's floor and one shoe fell off. She made muffled cries for help but only succeeded in drawing more chloroform deeper and deeper into her lungs. Carefully, I dripped out a little more Halothane. I turned my head slightly, keeping my face clear of the fumes filling the car.

Alexa was only a fourteen year old schoolgirl. She wasn't some psycho hard man like Mulhearn. There was only one way this was ending. Her struggles rapidly weakened and her arms and legs became still. I removed the rag and watched for a moment but the girl wasn't faking. She had toppled over onto the rear seat so, like any concerned parent would, I straightened her up and strapped her in. The whole struggle had taken less than a minute.

I looked back over the road at the group of schoolgirls gathering around the bus stop. If they'd noticed what had happened I'd be in big trouble but the girls all seemed wrapped up in their own little worlds. All the same, I was glad when I pulled away from the kerb and joined the traffic flow heading out of Sleaford.

It wasn't too long before I was well out of Sleaford and heading north east along the A153. During the drive both Mulhearn's and Alexa's mobile phones rang out several times. The highway crossed a railway line and I drove past the village of Anwick before I turned off along a minor country lane. Nobody followed me and the flat, waterlogged fields under the vast grey sky let me see in all directions. Apart from the constant flow of traffic along the A153, I had the place to myself. There wasn't even a tractor in the fields today. The air smelled damp and cool. Eventually, I pulled up in a little lay-by and then took a roll of grey duct tape from my bag.

Mulhearn was starting to come round again so I dealt with him first. I wrapped tape around his wrists and ankles and then slapped a length over his mouth. I didn't think he'd choke as I was staying with him. I also cut two smaller pieces and taped his eyelids closed. Being vulnerable, in the dark, not being able to see what's going on is very disorientating. I should know. It happened to me once.

When I was sure that Mulhearn was secure, I did the same to Alexa. I felt a little sorry for Alexa Wheelan as the only thing she'd done wrong was having a wannabe capo hood like Wheelan for a father. She'd lose her cow-like false eyelashes when she peeled off the tape closing her eyelids. That would hurt but I reckoned she'd soon get over it.

I straightened my back after I'd finished with my prisoners and looked around. The light was starting to fail and the sky was a deeper, gunmetal grey. The cars heading along the A153 were the only sign of life apart from a ragged W shaped skein of geese flying high overhead. Their honks to each other sounded ghostly in the half light.

Behind me I heard a choking sound coming from Mulhearn. The man was gagging and heaving. I turned to him and ripped off the duct tape covering his mouth. He leaned forward, out of the Cherokee, and retched and then vomited his lunch onto the muddy lay-by. I stepped back until he'd finished.

"Feel better?" I asked.

Mulhearn swore violently. I took that to mean he was.

"You want some water?"

Mulhearn swore again but nodded his head. I took a litre bottle of mineral water I found in the door footwell, uncapped it and held the bottle to his lips. Mulhearn swallowed greedily.

"Only sip it," I advised. "You don't want to get stomach cramps or anything."

Mulhearn spat. The gob of spit landed near my feet. I cut off another piece of tape and pressed it over the man's mouth. Turning to Alexa, I was a little worried. The girl seemed as if she was in a coma. I watched her chest and then placed my fingers gently over her carotid artery. I felt her pulse, fast and light, throb just beneath her skin. Then