Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 37 - Darkness Catches Up

CW: Contains slight abuse references (no description)

'This is the BBC news at 5.30pm, with me, Paul Bournville. We return now to our top story. A government in chaos - Interpol name Tory peer and prominent Brexiter Henry Dixon as the prime suspect in one of the world's worst serial killing cases in recent decades. Dixon is wanted in connection with the murders of 10 people in 4 different countries - and police have warned that number might rise again as they continue to link unsolved deaths. Joining me in the studio is our crime correspondent Lucy Peters and our politics correspondent Genevieve Smith. Genevieve. What sort of impact will this story have on the Conservative Party?'

'Oh, it's hard to overstate the impact, Paul. We must remind listeners that of course, Lord Dixon is innocent until proven guilty. But already, 23 front benchers have resigned. Labour are calling for an immediate general election. The Spanish police say they have made grim discoveries at two properties linked to Dixon, and if found guilty, people will be asking questions as to who protected him over the years - and why?'

George Stenton sat alone at a table outside a large cafe. Shaking, he turned his news podcast off, trying to regain enough composure to pay the bill for his unfinished mineral water.

The police hadn't said they were looking for him. Had they? Henry had saved George's skin on countless occasions. George probably owed him his freedom, if not his life.

They both knew what happened to people like him in prison.

Henry never even had to tell him - refuse to carry out his instructions, and his patronage of countless children's charities, his honorary position as a governor at several local schools, would disappear immediately. Thus, Henry's requests were a price worth paying. George didn't have to clean up very often. Henry had other people for that. He just had to drive him around and help with the hunting when required - sometimes as little as once a year. It wasn't that bad, compared to what his life without Henry would be.

George hadn't left any of his things in Henry's villa, thank heavens. He always travelled light in case airport security wanted to inspect his devices, a risk he was not willing to take.

After paying, he walked out in search of his car. Henry wanted to meet him at Javier Castella's property. George didn't want his friend to think he'd left him in the lurch; he'd let him down of late rather too often for comfort. He pressed the button on his car key. It wouldn't unlock. Something was wrong with the door. It had been having trouble recently, so George walked over to the door and tried to pull. Nothing happened. He looked around for something to open it with.

'Qué crees que estás haciendo con mi coche?' a burly, thickset man in a white vest and tracksuit bottoms snarled, appearing from nowhere at the top of the road. A cigarette was hanging out of his mouth and he was walking a fierce looking Doberman, which growled at George.

'Estás tratando de robarlo, bastardo?' the man spat. George stepped away from the vehicle. As he did so, a young policeman, thin, with a light beard, walked past. George had never had any reason to fear the police. But now, the sight sent chills all over his body.

'I - I wasn't doing anything,' George gulped, stumbling as he walked away. But the man grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him against the whitewashed wall. He smelt of very strong deodorant.

'Habla español, cabrón! Por qué estabas tratando de entrar en mi coche?' he spat.

'Es mi coche! Por que? Huh?' The policeman walked towards them as the angry driver pinned him against the wall. George couldn't understand Spanish, but the context was obvious. As the man restrained him, the glimpse of a courtroom flashed into his mind. All the ways Henry had rescued him from legal issues, and this rough looking Spaniard thought he was a car thief? Him?