by Alex Kane
‘Thank you for flying with EasyJet,’ the woman said as he reached the exit. He nodded, gave a smile but kept moving along the airbridge, towards the terminal. The rain battered off the outside of it and the wind rocked it slightly. His stomach lurched with the movement. Soon, he was through passport control and on his way to the next part of the journey.
Baggage reclaim. He saw the sign and followed the rest of the crowd towards the carousel. It had already started; he could hear the alarm sounding that warned passengers to stand back. There was no way out of this now. He had to get his case and hope that he’d get out of the airport a free man.
The carousel was already moving when he reached it. Men stood next to it with trolleys, women and young children stood back while they waited for husbands, boyfriends and parents to collect their bags. Cole stood at a spot on his own at the end of the winding carousel and waited. And waited. The thing went around roughly five times with nothing on it before slowly, one by one, bags began appearing. His appeared after around ten minutes of waiting and he pulled it off and began wheeling it along the floor towards the last of the security doors. That was the one he was most fearful of. Customs; Nothing to Declare. He was behind a family of six. Two adults, four kids. The kids were all roughly the same age and causing an absolute riot, shouting, singing and having a carry-on. Each child had a small pull-along case. One of the zips was burst, Cole noticed. As one kid shoved another, the case fell and the contents spilt onto the floor. Four cartons of cigarettes, each containing two hundred. Right in front of a customs officer.
The dad turned, glared at them and the kid started to cry. The customs officer stepped out in front of the family and Cole stopped, before manoeuvring around them. He listened as the dad began to stumble over his words and the family were pulled aside.
Cole’s heart thrummed in his chest as he made his way under the green sign that read ‘Nothing to Declare’ and out towards the main terminal building, silently thanking the dad and his kids for distracting the officer. He saw the exit. Could smell the fresh, Glasgow air and hear the taxi engines outside.
He had to refrain from bursting through the doors and into a taxi. Slow and steady wins the race, he told himself.
‘You want that in the boot, mate?’ The driver asked as he approached the vehicle.
‘Nah, mate. I’ll take it in here with me.’
‘Nae bother pal. Where to?’
Climbing into one of the taxis, Cole sat the case at his feet. He took a breath. He’d already organised his accommodation before arriving in Scotland. He gave the guy the address and sat back as the taxi pulled out of the airport and onto the motorway.
Cole exhaled loudly and had to stop himself from smiling. He’d done it. He’d managed to get the case out of Majorca and through the airport at the other side unscathed. His enemies were long behind him. They’d have discovered his betrayal by now. He was proud of himself, wishing he could see them now and their reactions to what he’d done.
This called for a beer and a night at the casino. Those were the two things that helped to numb the pain of his loss. His heart had been shattered; a black hole punched through his chest. The beer and the money would make him forget that for a while.
Chapter Twelve
Standing at the edge of the sun-drenched balcony overlooking the pool, Jez Kennedy bared his teeth as he held the phone to his ear. He may well be living in Majorca, but right now he felt like he was smack bang in the middle of hell.
‘You’re absolutely fucking sure of it?’ Jez hissed down the phone. ‘The money’s gone?’
‘Aye boss. It’s gone. He’s cleared out the safe instead of depositing it,’ the voice said, sounding equally as furious as Jez. ‘Word has it he’s long gone, caught a flight back to the UK about six hours ago. But that’s not all he’s taken.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jez felt his breath catch in his throat, and then he remembered. He’d taken his mother’s diamond wedding ring to the jeweller’s to be cleaned that week. He’d picked it up and put it in the safe so that he could take it home. But he’d forgotten about it because he’d been so busy getting ready to launch the club. It should have been completely out of harm’s way in that safe.
‘The ring, mate. It’s gone. I have hunted everywhere for it, hoping that it would have fallen on the floor during his bid to clear the cash out, but it’s not here. I’m so sorry mate, I know how much that ring meant to you.’
Jez gripped the phone, feeling like he could crush it with his bare hands. The sun shone down on the complex Jez owned and had worked so hard to build. Blood, sweat and tears had gone into making a life for himself in Majorca. Not all his own of course, he’d had to bump a few off along the way. But that was business, wasn’t it? You had to look after number one in order to get to the top of your game. And he was reaping the benefits of all that now. Well, he was until six hours ago. One hundred grand was nothing to someone like Jez. It was replaceable. But his dead mother’s diamond wedding ring. It was the only prized possession she’d ever owned, her mother’s before that. A family heirloom.
Jez Kennedy sat down at the patio table. The housekeeper set a bottle of beer in front of him. She always did that when he was stressed. Not that she ever asked him about his phone calls. Not even his wife, Charlene, did that. Jez always made sure that the lines were never blurred between business and family.
‘Esta bien señor?’ Maria asked. ‘Can I get you something else?’
Jez always felt bad for not learning to speak better Spanish, but Maria assured him that he coped just fine, and that she liked speaking English.
‘Fine. Thank you, Maria.’ Jez said quietly, while offering a tight-lipped smile.
Maria sensed that Jez needed to be alone and left him to finish his call. ‘Housekeeper’ seemed an unfair title. She was more than that. She had also been the boys’ nanny, someone who cared for the children and kept their home in order while Jez was out earning money and Charlene was out spending it. She’d been more of a mother figure than Charlene had been in the beginning.
‘What do you want to do, Jez?’ The voice at the other end of the line asked.
Jez knew exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t take too kindly to being screwed over by one of his own, especially not when they had stolen the only thing that had any kind of sentimental value from him.
‘We find the bastard, even if that means bringing him back to this fucking island in a box. I want my money and that ring and I’ll be damned if I let him get away with this. So, get a team together and find him. Preferably sooner than later. You got that?’
‘Aye boss. Loud and clear. I’ll let you know how things pan out.’
Slamming the phone down on the table, Jez exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his face. The season had started off well, with Jez launching a new nightclub, Martini Beach Club. It had only been open for a month and the place had already made him enough to see him through to retirement. But now the safe had been cleared of takings for the previous week and he was being laughed at all the way to the UK.
Getting to his feet and lifting his phone, he called his ex-colleague’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Of course it did. There was very little chance that he had even taken his phone with him on that plane and if he knew what was good for him, he’d go into hiding when he got back to the UK. Because Jez was going to make sure he found him.
And when he did, bones wouldn’t just be broken, they’d be shattered.
Chapter Thirteen
Martini Beach Club was buzzing with party-goers and Jez Kennedy sat back on the white leather sofa and smiled. This place was making him a fortune, setting his kids up for life. The place had only been open for one month but he knew there was many a successful season to come. It had quickly become one of the most popular places to visit on the island for stag, hen and birthday parties. Open eighteen hours a day, six days a week, the place was keeping Jez and his employees afloat all on its own. Yet he still didn’t feel contented, n
ot fully.
He’d been screwed over by someone he’d thought he could trust. But worst of all, a friend. And that was something that Jez wasn’t able to swallow.
‘How’s things going with you and Charlene?’ Danny asked, sitting across from Jez on the other side of the room.
Jez felt himself tense. ‘Fine,’ he lied.
‘She’s still acting off?’
Jez took a large mouthful of Jack Daniel’s so he didn’t have to answer. His relationship with his wife had been strained practically from day one but he’d stuck it out for the sake of the boys. In the last couple of weeks, she’d been off with him more so than usual. He suspected something was up, that she’d done something she shouldn’t have, but when he’d questioned her she’d done the usual and told him to fuck off. He didn’t want to think about his relationship and the state it was in right now. What he needed was to find out if there had been any development on bringing that bastard Cole back to Majorca. He’d already been gone a week.
‘You found him yet?’ Jez said, after swallowing the amber-coloured liquid and savouring the burn in his throat.
‘Not exactly, but we think he might be in Scotland. Rumour has it he’s working on a big deal that could see him earn fucking thousands,’ Danny replied, shifting in his seat. ‘But that’s as far as I know and I don’t want to dig too much too soon in case word gets back to him and he flees again.’
‘He’s got big fucking balls, I’ll give him that.’ Jez exhaled loudly. The bastard had stolen from him and then fucked off to Jez’s homeland. Like he’d said, big fucking balls. ‘Any idea who he’s working with?’
‘Not yet. But it won’t be long before he’s sitting here in front of you Jez. Then you’ll be able to do whatever the hell you want with him,’ Danny said with menace to his tone.
Jez nodded in agreement. He wanted that day, that very moment, right now. He thought about going to the UK himself. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than coming face to face with the guy who stole his money. Seeing the look on his face would be like all his birthdays and Christmases coming at once. However, Jez had commitments in Majorca, the club needed him present.
‘I just don’t get why he’d choose to go to Scotland when he had it all here? The sun, girls, money. It truly baffles me,’ Danny said.
‘Some folk always think the grass is greener, Danny. Thing is, you need to water your own grass, not shit all over it,’ Jez replied.
‘Couldn’t agree more, Jez. We’ll get him back, you won’t have to wait long,’ Danny said.
‘Good things come to those who wait,’ Jez replied. ‘I can take it from here. I know someone who might be able to help. If I need you, I’ll call on you.’
Jez thought about his connection back home in Glasgow. His old best mate, Billy Drysdale was at the very top of his own game by all accounts. Their lives had taken very different paths since that first time they’d visited Majorca together back in 2001. Jez just hoped that their friendship was strong enough now that he could call on Billy and ask a favour.
He pulled Billy’s number and hit call. It rang only twice.
‘DS Billy Drysdale…’ The line went quiet for a moment.
‘Billy boy, how’s it going?’ Jez said.
‘Jez,’ Billy replied. ‘Good to hear from you. Long time no speak. I didn’t even know you still had this number. You still over in Spain?’
‘Aye,’ Jez replied before he sucked air through his teeth. ‘It’s been a long time since we last spoke. Twenty odd years?’
Bloody hell, Jez thought. Two decades. Had it really been that long?
‘Aye, sounds about right? How’s things going with you?’
‘Ah, you know, wife, two boys. Running a successful business. You?’ Jez said.
‘Successful career. No wife, no kids. Couldn’t be bothered with all that on top of the job. You know me, I always liked to fly solo in that respect,’ Billy replied.
‘Look, I’ll not hang about. I’ve something to ask you, a favour.’
‘I thought as much. A gangster doesn’t contact a DS for anything else,’ Billy replied.
‘Why would you presume I’m a gangster, Billy?’
‘I’m a copper, Jez. I know these things. And it’s not as though you weren’t heading in that direction before we even went on that holiday, is it? So, what’s this about?’ Billy replied, his voice low.
‘I wondered if you had someone on your radar back in the UK. I’ve been done over here in Spain and the bastard has fucked off with a lot of money that belongs to me. Apparently, he’s in Scotland and planning a big deal. I trust you won’t have to ask what kind, given how long we’ve known each other.’
Billy was quiet for a few moments and Jez wondered if the line had disconnected. Then he said, ‘Why would I help you?’
‘Do you really need me to answer that? Come on, Billy. Do you need me to remind you of that night? Of what happened?’
‘How did I know you were going to throw that in my face?’ Billy asked. ‘That was almost twenty years ago.’
Jez exhaled noisily. He didn’t want to have to use it against Billy, but he had to. It hadn’t been easy to build a new life for himself in Spain, and for it to have started off by having to get rid of a body that had nothing to do with him had been a massive risk. He’d needed insurance, something that he could use if he had to, although he’d always hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.
‘And if it wasn’t for me, Billy, you wouldn’t be sitting at your cushty wee desk at Police Scotland. You’d be in prison yourself for a murder you committed while off your face on drink and a shit ton of drugs. You know I have the evidence, don’t you? Your memory isn’t so bad that I have to remind you of that.’
He listened to the silence on the other end of the line, the breathy sounds of Billy contemplating his position on the matter. Jez knew Billy as well as he knew himself. He wasn’t going to let anything fuck up his life, not after he’d worked so hard to get to where he was.
‘You’re a bastard, Kennedy,’ Billy said.
‘Aye, I know. You know me better than anyone. Or at least you used to. Not much has changed. So, are you going to help me or not?’
Chapter Fourteen
Roxanne pulled Arabella in and held her close, so close that Arabella worried her friend might crush her. The emotion she felt caught her by surprise. Arabella hadn’t expected to make a friend inside, and she certainly hadn’t expected to feel sad about leaving. Naturally she couldn’t wait to get out of prison, but it was hard to leave Roxanne behind. She’d been Arabella’s rock on the inside, the person who had kept her on a positive path when she was feeling low about being in prison and leaving Eddie to wait for her, worried that she might come out and return to her old ways. Roxanne had been honest, often blunt. ‘Get a grip, hen. You’re in here for ten months, no’ ten years like me. Thank yersel’ lucky.’
‘Feels like you’ve only been in here five minutes and you’re off already,’ Roxanne said now, loosening her grip on Arabella and leaning back to look at her face.
‘Doesn’t feel like five minutes to me,’ she replied before she could stop the words. At least she was getting out, unlike Roxanne who still had a few more weeks to go. ‘You’ll be out with me soon enough.’
‘Aye, and the first thing we’re doing is going out and getting hammered. Understood? And I want to meet this man of yours, Eddie. He and my Jake sound like they would get on like a house on fire.’
Arabella laughed at the sly grin on her friend’s face. ‘Definitely.’
During their stretch together, Arabella had felt their friendship clicking into place. Their discussions led to her realising that they weren’t all that different. They’d both grown up with alcoholic parents – although Arabella thought that Mandy, Roxanne’s mum, sounded worse. But that was probably because Roxanne had had to put up with her a lot longer. Arabella had been removed from her own mother’s care before she was old enough to truly understand what was going on
, whereas Roxanne had had to wait until she was old enough to get away from her toxic parent. They’d made light of the fact that they both had boozed-up mums and had both ended up in prison. Was it any wonder? Would that happen to their own kids, if they ever had them?
Roxanne was like the big sister that Arabella had never had. Even though there was only a ten-year age gap between them, with Roxanne being thirty-eight, Arabella would go as far as to think that Roxanne was like a friend, sister and mother figure all in one, although she’d never say the latter out loud.
‘Thank you, Rox,’ she said in a whisper, fighting back tears.
‘See you on the other side, wee yin.’
Letting go, Arabella turned and headed out of the room she’d shared with the woman she now classed as a best friend and followed the female officer along the corridor to the office at the end. She didn’t turn around, not wanting Rox to see her crying like a stupid little girl.
Arabella entered the office and sat down at the table. The female officer on the opposite side smiled across at her and Arabella felt like the weight on her shoulders was already beginning to lift.
‘Right, Arabella MacQueen. I’ve got a few things here for you to sign, just to say we’ve handed you back your possessions,’ the officer said, sliding a pen and paper across the table. Arabella didn’t bother to read it all, she simply signed her name at the bottom.
‘Do you have somewhere to go when you get out?’ The woman asked.
Arabella nodded. ‘Yes, my boyfriend is picking me up.’ Following the officer out of the room and down a series of corridors, she was led to a desk where she was handed a bag of her belongings – her mobile phone, a pack of cigarettes, a half-eaten pack of mints and a set of house keys along with a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and leather jacket. As she took the bag in her hand, the woman directed her towards a cubicle and she went inside to get changed out of her prison attire. Once inside on her own, she slipped out of the trousers and jumper and stepped into her own clothes. It made her smile how much she already felt like she was at home, feeling the familiar material against her skin.