Definitely Dead
Page 14
Nodding goodbye, Spence followed the group into the pub. Maya continued the short distance home; unaware the black Mercedes was following her.
26
Ryan Johnson was like the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlights. He didn’t know what to do. Should he run or stay put? The only thing he did know with complete certainty was that he was scared. Really fucking scared. Spencer James had started this. When he’d seen the Facebook post about him looking for bar work, he’d tipped him off about The Farmhouse. It was more of a way to get into Donnelly’s good books rather than a favour to Spence.
But it had all backfired. Rather than being in favour with Donnelly, he had found himself in even more hot water. Ryan had recently been visited by Lurch, a giant of a man who Donnelly and Nowak used when they wanted to persuade people to do something without getting their own hands dirty.
Lurch’s huge stature and dark-rimmed eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to the character from The Addams Family, earning him the nickname. He arrived at Ryan’s flat and explained in as much detail as it was possible using words of few syllables, what Donnelly expected him to do to ensure his release. Lurch hadn’t laid a finger on him, hadn’t even threatened him. His reputation and the almost sinister way he had politely asked, was enough to make Ryan’s sphincter twitch with fear. When Lurch told you to do something you did it. No questions asked.
Now, though, he wondered if that meant he was in the clear or whether he was at risk of being surplus to requirements. He’d not left his flat since he’d returned from the police station. Instead, he’d locked himself in with a large supply of weed and booze and was busily smoking and drinking himself into oblivion. It had been the first time he had smoked or drank since leaving prison. His last sentence had terrified him, and he was determined never to get sent down again. Part of his turning over a new leaf included eating clean and getting in shape. He had started running and even bought a fitness tracker so he could monitor his activity.
Now he was annoyed with himself for giving in to temptation and turning to weed and booze, but he needed something to ease his peace of mind so he could think clearly. He was agonising about whether he was safe to stay near his family and carry on with life as normal, or whether he should cut his losses, up sticks and move. But would his family be safe if Donnelly and Nowak were on the warpath?
Maybe it would be better all round if he moved away where they would never find him. He’d always fancied Wales. He’d been on holiday once as a kid and it had been one of the most memorable times of his life. They’d gone to Llandudno and he and his sister had spent days either exploring the beach or the Great Orme. He had happy memories of being sat cross-legged watching the Punch and Judy show, wielding fluffy, pink candyfloss as big as his head, on spindly wooden sticks.
Maybe he could move there. It would be nice to go running by the sea and he could even go swimming. He could imagine falling asleep at night, exhausted from the sea air, listening to the cacophony of seagulls. Then, in a couple of years, when the heat died down, he could get back in touch with his mum and sister and invite them over for a little holiday. His mum would like that.
Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’d throw some stuff in a bag and go. He stubbed his joint out in the overflowing ashtray and bounded from the table with a new-found enthusiasm. He was pleased with his decision. He was just emptying the contents of his wash basket into a holdall when he heard a knock at the door.
If it was his mam, maybe he could persuade her to do some ironing for him. It’d be good to see her before he left. He just hoped she wouldn’t start crying, he couldn’t cope with that.
He opened the door and baulked at the sight of Lurch filling the door frame. He had a huge grin on his asinine face. An excitable pool of drool brimmed in the corner of his mouth. Tears pricked Ryan’s eyes at the sudden realisation he should have ran days ago. It was too late.
Lurch pushed him back gently into the flat with just one finger against his chest. He had a rucksack slung over his shoulder and without saying anything, opened the neck of the bag to show Ryan the contents. There was a pair of overalls, gloves, bed sheet and a hammer.
Lurch held his finger to his lips to indicate silence as he pushed him further back into the flat. Slowly and carefully, he clicked the front door behind them. Ryan thought of his mum and his sister and Wales, as a stream of hot piss trickled down his leg.
27
Nowak was already seated at a table in the visiting room when Donnelly arrived for the afternoon visit. He was dressed in black tracksuit bottoms, grey T-shirt and prison-issue red bib. His casual attire was in sharp contrast to Donnelly, who turned heads in his designer suit and crisp white shirt, casually unbuttoned at the collar. With huge beaming grins, the two men greeted each other with their customary thumb-grab which, for them, passed as a handshake.
‘It’s so fuckin’ good to see you, man, how’s it going?’ Nowak couldn’t keep the grin off his face.
‘We’re getting there, my friend. I’m just tying up a few loose ends. You know how I like to dot my i’s and cross my t’s,’ said Donnelly with a Machiavellian grin.
‘Who have you got taking the rap for the raid at The Farmhouse then?’ Nowak laughed nastily.
‘That little prick, Ryan Johnson. Let’s call it payback. I knew his prints would be on the bag from last time he minded that gun for us. It was one of the reasons I gave it to him. It always pays to have a bit of forensic insurance.’ Donnelly tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. ‘Anyway, I sent Lurch round to give him a little wake-up call. You know how persuasive that dumb fucker can be.’
The two men laughed; Nowak leaned across the table to fist-bump Donnelly.
‘So, Johnson’s currently sat on a bunk in Strangeways that’s probably still warm from your arse?’
‘Nah, he should be dead by now,’ Donnelly said bluntly.
‘What?’ Nowak leaned across the table again, shoulders hunched, his neck craning towards Donnelly. ‘Please tell me you’re fucking joking.’ His tone was flat, and he was frowning, eyes narrowed as he glared at Aiden.
‘No, I’m not joking. Waste disposal innit? What’s up with you?’
‘What’s up with me, Aiden, is that right now I need to shovel as much shit off my back as I can, and your way of dealing with things is to cause even more bother?’
Nowak banged the palm of his hands on the table, attracting a warning look from one of the nearby prison officers. Tutting at Donnelly he shook his head with disgust.
‘Fuck’s sake, chill out man. Look, Ryan Johnson was a loose cannon. Need I remind you he’s already done a stretch for us once before and struggled with it? There was no guarantee he’d do the same again. We couldn’t be sure he’d continue to keep his mouth shut. He was a fucking contender for Redford and Mitton to pop into witness protection, if ever I saw one.’
‘Lurch would have been enough to persuade him to keep his mouth shut.’
‘Yeah, probably. But Lurch is as numb as a piss stone and I don’t trust him with my freedom. It wasn’t a gamble I was prepared to take, okay? I was there, you were in here, so it was my call to make.’
‘Yeah, cheers mate, don’t go rubbing it in.’
‘Aw, sorry man, I didn’t mean to.’ Donnelly looked genuinely contrite. It went against the grain for him to be out while his best friend was still locked up. ‘How are you getting on in here?’
‘I’m living the dream, bro. The spa can get busy in the afternoon, but the five-star food and cocktail menu more than compensate for the inconvenience.’ Nowak sneered sarcastically. ‘Seriously, Aiden, I’m glad you’re out, mate, but you’ve got to get the lawyers to get their fingers out of their arses and do the same for me. It’s doing my fucking head in, this place. I can’t stand the thought of Markita being on her own out there with God knows who sniffing around her. Plus, they’re looking at sticking both the McCluskey jobs on me. I’m facing a long stretch and you know there’s no way that can happen.’
‘I know, I know. Look, just keep your head, okay? I’m already on it and so are the briefs. As we speak, they’re making arrangements for you to be transferred to Strangeways, so at least you’ll be nearer to home. There’s no way the prison intelligence unit should have bought all that bullshit from Redford about us being in separate prisons.’ Donnelly snorted with disgust. ‘The man’s just taking the piss. Everyone knows him and that bitch Mitton have had it in for us for years. It’s fucking police harassment is all.’
Nowak nodded in agreement. ‘So, what are you planning?’
‘I’m going to find someone to take the rap for you, of course. They’ve got no forensics or CCTV to tie you to the shooting or the stabbing. Plus, Markita has provided you with an alibi for both jobs. I’ve got someone in mind to plant McCluskey’s blood on.’
‘Who?’
‘Spencer James.’
Nowak shook his head. ‘Never heard of him. Who is he?’
‘New bloke who I’d just appointed the bar manager’s position. It’s probably my own fault for not checking him out properly, but it’s an unhappy coincidence that he arrived at my place the same morning of the raid.’
‘Right…’
‘Yeah, right. Who put me in touch with him? That little fucking rat, Johnson, remember?’
‘You think they both grassed us up? If so, why would this Spencer arrange to be there on the morning it kicked off?’
‘I’ve no idea. It could just be coincidence, but you know I don’t buy that. I don’t know anything about him, but my instincts are telling me he’s trouble. I’ve had leads put on him. I’ll text you a photo of him later. You should at least know what the bloke who’s gonna be doing a stretch for you looks like. It’s good manners.’
Nowak laughed, allowing the relief to sink in. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. I knew you would. I know I can trust you to have my back. Sorry for being a bit arsey, it’s just this place. But after this, Aiden, let’s just cool things a bit, eh? I want to get out of here and concentrate on sorting things with Markita.’
‘Problems?’
‘Yeah. No… Oh, I don’t know, mate, I really don’t.’ He sighed, rubbing his hand over his head. ‘She just seems different since I got locked up. And she’s not even been to see me since I’ve been in here. Said it was too far to fucking travel. Cheeky bitch seems to have forgotten it was me that bought her that fucking Audi she’s so proud of. When I ring her, she can’t get off the phone quick enough. I don’t know what to think.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll go and pay her a visit. Shower her with a few gifts from you. It’s probably just all the upset of you being in here. She’s most likely in bits but doesn’t want you to know, so is saying as little as possible. This place fucks with your head, mate, you’ve too much time to think and it makes you paranoid.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I just need to get out and soon.’
‘Few more days, mate, okay? Just hold your nerve. What’s your cellmate like?’
‘Bloke called Naylor. Older fella, but he’s okay, a good laugh. In fact, he’s after finding out some information about a SOCO who dealt with me when I got nicked. If I text you details, can you ask around?’
‘’Course, mate. Whatever you need. At least you’ve not got any bother in here.’
‘You know what it’s like, Aiden. I’m treated like fucking royalty. The benefits of having a reputation that precedes you is making it go all right. I just can’t stand being locked up.’
‘I know. Just sit tight because me and you are gonna get over this little glitch and in future, we’re going to make sure that whatever we do, we’re untouchable.’
‘Amen to that.’ Once again, the two men fist-bumped, and Nowak smiled. He could practically smell freedom and it was all thanks to his best friend, Aiden Donnelly.
28
Markita Milani was stretched out on her bed wrapped only in a bath towel. She was cooling down after her shower, enjoying the scent of her freshly washed skin. The sudden ring of the doorbell startled her, and she darted up off the bed. She felt a mixture of exhilaration and dismay. He was far too early, and she was nowhere near ready. She wanted to be made up for him and dressed, ready in her new lingerie when he arrived. She knew the corset and suspenders would take his breath away and she grew wet at the thought of how he was going to respond when he saw her all dressed up.
She pushed guilt-ridden thoughts of Piotr to the back of her mind. She knew what she was doing was wrong. Piotr had been the love of her life for a while, but not anymore. She didn’t even know at what point she’d stopped loving him. It had just happened. And now? This new fledgling relationship was so wrong, but it felt so right. She knew it was such a cliché and knew the taboo of what she was doing was unthinkable in their world. Unforgivable even. But she couldn’t stop herself. God knows she’d tried.
Still wrapped in the bath towel, she dashed to the door like an excited child; her face a mask of sheer exhilaration and pleasure. She pulled back the security chain and swung the door open.
‘All right, darlin’?’ Donnelly’s face was plastered with a huge smile as he stood on the doorstep clutching a bottle of wine, chocolates and a huge bouquet of flowers.
29
Maya had finished her day shift and was crossing the car park when she spotted Chris. She knew he’d been in court all day and was keen to hear the outcome. He had been conversing with DI’s Redford and Mitton and had waved the pair off when Maya joined him.
‘Hey, how did court go?’
‘Not too bad thanks, love. The defence were trying to get me to interpret the blood spatter on my scene photographs. I kept telling them that was a job for a biologist. They tried to lead me a few times, probably hoping I’d trip myself up, but I didn’t take their bait.’
‘Were you nervous?’
‘Shitting meself! I think I was more nervous than the defendant. I always am when I’m in court. Still, talking to the bosses just then, we think it’s going to go our way. He’s looking at about fifteen years.’
‘Nice one, Chris.’
‘Can’t wait to get home and have a pint and a takeaway. I can’t be bothered cooking for myself tonight. Are you off home?’
‘Yeah, it’s been busy while you’ve been sipping lattes outside court.’
‘Cheeky sod.’
‘Hey, can I ask you something? About the Jim Baron job?’
‘Tony picked that one up.’
‘I know. It’s just that I was chatting with my mum about it the other day. She was the community nurse who found him and called us.’
‘And?’
‘Well, she mentioned that she thought it was strange that Baron was on the floor and his nebuliser and stuff hadn’t been touched…’
‘Oh, Maya, please stop.’ Chris ran his hand across his face, sighing. ‘Haven’t you learnt anything from the warnings Kym has already given you?’
‘Yes… but…’
‘No, Maya. You know I like you, but you’re even starting to get on my nerves with all this. You’ve still got the Wainwright business hanging over your head, and now you want to cast fresh aspersions about Jim Baron’s death?’
‘I’m sorry, Chris. I just can’t shake the feeling off that something’s wrong. It’s like when we were at Gorman’s house…’
‘You’re questioning that now?’ Chris laughed, incredulous. ‘You were at the scene and the PM. You know there was nothing suspicious about that job.’
Maya sighed, exasperated at not being understood. ‘I know on the surface it looks that way. But I can’t ignore this feeling I got at that scene… and there was something about Celeste Warren’s suicide note…’
‘Well, I suggest you try ignoring your feelings before you completely alienate yourself from everyone in the office. No offence, love, but I’m off. It’s been a long day.’
Maya’s heart sank as she watched Chris stride across the car park. She really wished she’d not said anything. S
he realised she should have spoken to Tony about it rather than Chris. Once again, she cursed herself for her stupidity and lack of thought.
She suspects far too much. She could make things exceedingly difficult for me and I’m not going to let that happen. She needs to learn to mind her own business. If I have to shut her up, I will.
30
Geoffrey Doran sucked in the cool summer air greedily. A breeze tickled his forehead, cooling the perspiration that slathered his face and neck. He had been sat in the hot, cloying living room for three hours. He felt bilious after endless cups of tea and stale custard creams. Still, it had been worth it. The doddering old woman had happily handed him 20,000 pounds in cash. He had taken great care to wash his cup, kissed her papery cheek goodbye and assured her he would be back the following day to take her to the garden centre for lunch.
Bullshit. Being the unscrupulous bastard he was, he laughed as he pictured her clutching her empty handbag on her bony lap. He could imagine her gazing out the window, rheumy-eyed. Her wispy white hair covering her egg-shell skull. He knew the longer she waited, the reality of what she had done would start seeping in. Would she cry when she realised? Hopefully. Undoubtedly. Meanwhile, he would be moving on to the next victim he had lined up. An old boy from Stockport, who he knew had more money than sense.
Geoffrey had been conning the elderly for decades. He had started his criminal career by using many guises such as the bogus builder or ‘water board’ official, to Jehovah’s Witness, Christian Aid or the volunteer from Help the Aged. Many years ago, he had fallen foul of DNA profiling. A saliva swab taken from a drinking glass he’d used while conning a couple out of 25,000 pounds had resulted in him serving a hefty prison sentence. During his time inside, Geoffrey had grown forensically aware, picking up tips from his fellow prisoners. It was quite the education. He learnt so much more than the Open University or Ted Talks could ever offer.