Criminally Insane by Conrad Jones Page B

side of his head where the ambulance men were working.
    “Damaged?” one of the paramedics said. “They’ve been cut off!”
    “Shut up! Nobody asked you a question,” Jessie turned angrily on him. If the bleeding hadn’t been so severe he would have walked away, but he was losing a lot of blood.
    “So how did you receive those injuries?” the officer tried again. He took a white notebook from his pocket and opened it in anticipation of recording Jessie’s replies.
    “Write this in your notebook, Sherlock, fuck off!” Jessie’s face was purple and his hands were shaking.
    “I don’t think he wants to make a statement, Officer,” Gus growled as he looked into the ambulance. Jessie laughed but his laugh changed to a wince when a paramedic pressed too hard. The young police officer looked on bemused.
    “Jessie, is there any other way out of the cellar apart from the back door?” Gus asked.
    “Why?” Jessie was confused.
    “Just answer the question.”
    “No, the door to the alleyway is the only exit.”
    “Can it be opened from the outside?”
    “No, it has a steel plate welded over it and it’s bolted from the inside. It hasn’t been opened for years. Why are you asking?”
    “We need to take him to hospital right now”, one of the paramedics said as he grabbed the back doors and pulled them together, “he’s losing a lot of blood.”
    “I’ll travel with him if you don’t mind,” the officer said unsurely.
    “It’s up to you, mate, but we need to go now.”
    “I don’t want him in here asking me stupid questions,” Jessie whined. “I’m not going to say anything, Sherlock, so why don’t you just fuck off?”
    The ambulance men laughed. It was just another Saturday night in the city to them. The police officer decided he was getting nowhere and bailed out of the back. Jessie was shouting questions at Gus as the doors slammed closed and silenced him. The siren wailed and the blue lights flashed as the van drove away from the burning nightclub, slowly weaving through the crowd that had gathered.
    “They must be in the cellar.” Gus turned to Jinx. Jinx was looking around and scanning the crowd. There were familiar faces everywhere. They all looked shocked.
    “No way.” Jinx shook his head. “They were smart, Gus. There’s no way they left themselves trapped in the cellar with no escape route.”
    “There’s only one way to find out, but the club is full of police.”
    “I’m telling you they’re not down there, Gus. They’re long gone.”
    “Well, how did they get out?”
    “The same way they went in. Grab some of your men and let’s go and take a look ourselves.” Jinx walked toward the rear of the club. Gus didn’t like being told what to do, but he called his men together and looked for the remaining card players and their heavies. The emergency services had put Leon into an ambulance, which left David Lorimar and the remaining three poker players plus their minders. The police watched closely as they gathered and whispered to each other in a huddle. To a bystander, it looked like there were angry words being exchanged before the group moved away to the back of the club. As they slipped down the service alley at the rear, the rain began to bucket down. The alleyway was dark and lined with huge red wheelie bins that were overflowing with cardboard and waste from the retail outlets that bordered the nightclub. A single yellow streetlight poured out a dull glow, hardly penetrating the darkness.
    “What are we supposed to be doing here, Gus?” Big Mick asked gruffly. Mick was one of the poker players, a grizzly bear of a man, thickset and bearded. He exported ninety percent of the stolen prestige cars taken from the North West. Most of them were destined for Eastern Europe, and the trade link gave him access to heroin smuggled from Afghanistan through Russia. He didn’t have time to chase around after a couple of chancers who had stolen his twenty grand stake money. It