The Valley of Longing 16

Two of the three appeared to be unconscious, they remained just as they had fallen, and showed no signs of moving, The third, however - Jack could not help thinking it annoyingly typical, that it should be the one with the knife, the one who seemed most eager to kill him - not only had his eyes open, but had disentangled himself from his friends and was most of the way to his feet. A flash of light bouncing off the blade of the knife as it came towards him “WOKE” Jack from his surprised stasis. Hurriedly, he blocked the incoming blow with the torch, which he got up just in time, suffering no more than a slice to the finger, that nonetheless bled profusely. He had not time to think of his injury, for the knife came towards him again. Once, twice, three times, he blocked as the would be murderer slashed at him again and again, attacking with such rapidity and ferocity that it was all Jack could do to get the torch in the way and keep the knife from drawing more blood than it already had. When his attacker changed tactics, and lunged instead of slashing. Jack twisted aside, only just avoiding the point of the knife. His injured ankle buckled as he evaded the blade and he fell against the wall. Before he could recover, the knife came towards him again, this time in a wide sweeping arc that was aimed at his head, and which would have injured him seriously, perhaps even fatally, had it made contact. There was only one way for him to avoid the danger and he took it, he fell, letting gravity pull him down and out of the way. Unfortunately, as he went down, his arm went up, straight into the path of the knife. Jack yelled in pain as he felt the knife slice deeply into his arm, making blood spurt. He cried out again when he hit his head on the door for the second time, though he maintained enough presence of mind to lash out with a foot to drive his attacker back, gaining him some space to at least try and get to his feet - he was far more vulnerable while on the floor. The kick had an unexpectedly positive double result. He caught his knife - wielding attacker square on the kneecap, which made them both cry out in pain, the intruder more loudly than him, and caused the intruder to stagger backwards into his still unconscious friends. The heel of Jack’s attacker’s foot caught in the entwined bodies at the foot of the stairs, making him stumble backwards and fall onto the stairs. Jack saw what had happened, and took advantage of the opportunity he was presented with. Ignoring, as best he could, both the pain from his ankle and his arm and the blood that ran from his injuries, he struggled to his feet. As he pushed himself up, he swung the torch in an overhead blow that proved to be far better timed than he could have anticipated. He intended simply to connect with his attacker, to injure him and put him off continuing the fight, or even to simply hold him off until the police arrived. The heavy thud that sounded when the torch connected with his rising assailant’s head startled Jack; it was louder than he would have expected, and he worried that he had hurt him seriously, perhaps even fatally. Hesitantly, he moved forwards, stepping carefully over the two tangled figures on the floor so he could reach out and check for a pulse. He was tremendously relieved when he discovered what he was looking for - the pulse was faint, but it was there. Jack parked his Land Rover as close to the entrance of the police station as he could and got out. He winced the moment his right foot touched the good, the painkillers he had taken when he got up - twice the recommended dose - were not doing a good enough job of blocking out the pain from his various injuries, the ankle he had twisted, while not the most serious injury, was making the most ‘NOISE’, which did not surprise him because he couldn’t rest it, so it was constantly being aggravated. Slowly and painfully, he limped around to the front of the building, and then up the steps to the entrance. Once inside, he crossed to the counter, where he had to wait for almost a minute before anyone appeared to deal with him. ‘Is Sergeant Mitchell in?’ he asked when a constable finally arrived. ‘I’ll see if he’ll see you,’ Constable Heath said, without offering any of the pleasantries he might have normally when someone entered the station. ‘Thanks.’ Jack noted the coldness from the constable, but paid it no mind, he had other things to worry about. While he waited for the constable to return he leaned on the counter, trying to take some of the weight off his ankle, and thereby reduce the throbbing that made him want to scream. ‘How can I help you, Mr Wild?’ Mitchell asked when he reached the counter. He could not bring himself to be any more civil than that given his suspicions. ‘I’m here to make a statement about the attempt on my life,’ Jack told the sergeant, ignoring the barely concealed hostility, just as he had ignored that from the constable. Mitchell looked confused for a second, but then his expression cleared. ‘You meant the assault on you by Lynne’s brother, Constable Brown told me about it this morning.’ ‘No, sergeant, I mean the attempt on my life,’ Jack said. He wondered if the sergeant believed the attack had only been an assault because of a miscommunication between him and the constable, or if it was a deliberate misinterpretation of what had happened. ‘He may not have introduced himself or anything, but the guy who did this - he held up his bandaged arm - made it very clear why he was at my house.’ Mitchell looked as though he wanted to debate or dispute that, but then he gave a little shake of his head and said, ‘You’d best come through so you can tell me what happened.’ He opened the security door to let Jack Wild through, and then led him along the passage to the interview room, where he had spent so much of yesterday evening. ‘If you’d like to wait in here, I’ll be with you shortly.’ ‘Do you think I could get a coffee?’ Jack asked. He was not surprised when the sergeant looked less than willing. Mitchell wanted to tell Wild where to go; the last thing he wanted to do was give him what he wanted, even when it was something as simple as a drink, he certainly did not want to listen to him give a statement about the assault that had taken place. After meeting Wild’s lawyer, though, he realised that refusing, either to take the statement or to provide a drink, would only offer ammunition to the lawyer, who was already interested in suing him. Reluctantly, he nodded before closing the interview room door on the man he did not want to deal with. ‘Mel,’ he caught the attention of the young constable, who was working in the small office she shared with the other constables. ‘Mr Wild is waiting in the interview room to give a statement about Ollie’s attack, he’d like a drink before we get started, would you see to it?’ ‘Sure.’ Melissa jumped to her feet, happy to take a break from what she had been doing - like yesterday, she was reaching Jack Wild to discover everything there was to know about him. Ordinarily, she would have been happy enough to have an excuse to satisfy her curiosity, but not then; she knew that she had been given the job because Mitchell was hoping she would learn something that would help to prove that Wild was guilty of the two murders that had taken place. She had been hoping that after a good night’s sleep the sergeant would be more reasonable, and willing to consider the other possible suspects. ‘Morning,’ Melissa said as brightly as she could when she reached the interview room. ‘Sergeant Mitchell said you’d like a coffee, how d’you take it?’ ‘Right now I just want it strong and sweet,’ Jack told her. ‘I need all the energy I can get.’ He barely managed to finish speaking before he was overcome by a yawn so massive it made his mouth resemble the entrance to an underground cavern. ‘I can see why; you look about as tired as I feel. I’ll be right back with your coffee.’ Jack could hardly deny that he was tired - he had gotten less than two hours sleep before being woken by the intrusion that led to his injuries, and after the fight he had had to be rushed to the hospital so his arm could be stitched up. By the time he returned from the hospital, he was only able to get a couple of hours’ rest before Isobel was forced to get up and heard home so she could take care of her dog. ‘Right, Mr Wild, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do with your time, and I know I do, so let’s get this statement dealt with. Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what happened.’ He turned on the recorder in the corner of the room and took out a pad and pen. Jack was about to start speaking when the door to the interview room opened, both he and the sergeant turned towards the door, startled by the interruption, and saw Melissa creep into the room. ‘Sorry,’ Melissa apologised when she saw that both men were looking at her. ‘I just thought Mr Wild would like a few biscuits with his coffee.’ She laid a pack of digestives on the table within reach a Jack Wild, set a mug of coffee in front of Mitchell, and then joined her superior on his side of the table, putting her own mug of coffee down as she sat. She had barely seated herself before she reached out to open the biscuits and grab a couple to dunk in her coffee. Mitchell scowled at Melissa but said nothing to her. ‘Right, now that we all appear to be settled, perhaps we can get started; as I said, we all have other things we need to do.’ Mitchell did not look at Melissa as he said that, but out the corner of his eye he saw her redden, and knew she was aware the comment had been directed at her. Jack nodded. “Okay, well, after I got home from being interviewed by you yesterday evening in the spare room - it was too late for her to head home,’ he said, getting straight into his story since he didn’t want to take any longer about it than necessary. ‘I’d been asleep for a couple of hours maybe, I’m not sure how long exactly, when something woke me up. I wasn’t sure what it was to begin with, but then I heard noises from downstairs, so I got up to check it out; I grabbed the torch I keep on my bedside cabinet in my way out of the room.’ ‘I take it that’s the torch Constable Brown logged as evidence,’ Mitchell said. When he received a nodded he went on. ‘That’s not the usual kind of torch a person has around the house, where did you get it?’ ‘I got it when I was on the force, but I believe you can buy one like it in most hardware or camping shops. Does it matter?’ Jack asked, amused by the sergeant’s attitude. ‘I guess not,’ Mitchell said, a little unhappily. ‘But you might to be more careful in the future about carrying something that could be considered an offensive weapon, which your torch clearly can be, given the amount of damage you did to Ollie.’ ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Jack said blandly. ‘Under the circumstance, though, I’m glad I had the torch to protect myself with. If I hadn’t, it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t be around to talk to you now.’ ‘More’s the pity.’ thought Mitchell, though he fervently hoped that neither the constable at his side, nor the man across from him, could tell what he was thinking. Jack got on with relating the previous night’s events then. ‘When I realised that someone had broken in, I crept downstairs to try and find out what was going on, that’s who I assume it was. He was telling his friends, who seemed more interested in stumbling around drunkenly breaking whatever they didn’t plan on stealing, that he was there to kill me, and that they should follow him upstairs to help him to do that. I headed back upstairs after that and told Isobel to lock herself in my bedroom, and to call the police form my phone while I waited to see what was going to happen.’ ‘Why didn’t you lock yourself in the bedroom with your friend?’ For the sake of making it appear that she was there for a reason, and not just because she was curious about the man she had been researching, and what had happened to him during the night, Melissa took the pad and pen that were on the table in front of Mitchell, Hurriedly, she scribbled down everything that had been said so far, uncomfortably aware that her handwriting, when rushed was only just legible…..