‘We’ll take the tape,’ Ed made the decision for him. ‘If your boss has a problem he can ring. Thanks for your time.’
‘My pleasure,’ Charlie said, taking the card Ed offered but looking directly into Sam’s eyes, his grin broadening.
Ed waited until he and Sam were outside, out of earshot of anybody else.
‘I thought you’d be keen to give your card the way you were drooling over him.’
‘I told you,’ Sam serious this time. ‘Pack it in.’
The walk back to the car was done in an awkward silence.
Ed opened up, slipped the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. ‘Julius’ mate didn’t want to be captured on camera did he?’ he said, playing back the footage in his head. ‘Talk about surveillance conscious.’
Sam lit a cigarette and asked Ed to start up so she could open her window.
He turned the ignition key, still thinking about the shots from the centre, then the footage of Julius’ abduction.
‘I can’t put my finger on it, but the way he walks, our mystery man.’
He pulled away slowly.
‘I’ve seen that walk before.’
Mat walked past the breakfast bar, ran some water into a glass, and poured whisky into it.
‘I want my dad to die a slow death like Geoff,’ he handed the glass to Harry. ‘Mark and Luke will follow me.’
‘I doubt that,’ Harry sipped the scotch.
‘Then they’ll follow him.’
Harry glanced at Dean, then tugged at his earlobe, a show of bafflement for Mat’s behalf.
‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t get too excited, Harry said. ‘I love Seahouses but I’ve driven all the way up here to listen to a fairy story. That island in the distance,’ he nodded to the north, ‘is called Holy Island not fucking Fantasy Island.’
He pushed himself off the settee. ‘Come on Dean we’re off.’
Mat’s expression showed neither surprise nor anger.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I’m the one out on a limb here. There’s nothing stopping you going back and telling my father about this conversation. He doesn’t even know where I am, doesn’t know we have this place. I’m the one taking all the risks so at least you can hear me out.’
Harry stopped, looked at Dean again and sat back down.
‘I know the business inside out,’ Mat told them. ‘My father might want Luke to take over because he’s got the brains, but I know how everything runs…the clubs, the drugs, the girls. There’s nothing I don’t know. You two could be my right hand men.’
Harry’s mind was starting to race, a chess player suddenly fearing a wrong move.
‘And why would we want to do that?’ he said, elbows on knees, chin in the palms of his hands, a show of calm on the outside.
‘Forty per cent of the take,’ Mat made his pitch. ‘Forty per cent of everything.’
Harry tried, unsuccessfully, to calculate 40% of Billy Skinner’s empire. He couldn’t. It was too big to contemplate. He felt like he’d taken a punch to the gut.
‘Why us?’
‘My father’s trusted you since you were kids,’ Mat told him. ‘My mother would understand why I would go to someone like you for advice, an older head if you like.’
‘So how and why does your father get killed?’ Harry was still so thrown he would have struggled to spell ‘fuck me.’
‘The how’s not important now,’ Mat said. ‘The why’s easy enough. A man like my dad? My mother’s lived for years terrified someone would take him out. He’s had plenty taken out himself. And some of our people favour me over Luke.’
Dean Silvers had listened in silence, as stunned as Harry but already working the new landscape in his head.
Now he spoke for the second time since he’d stepped into the caravan.
‘You’d seriously kill your own father?’
Mat poured himself another malt then held Dean’s gaze.
‘Don’t think he wouldn’t do it to me.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘There’s shepherd’s pie in the oven,’ Jill Brown shouted. ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’
She looked in the bathroom mirror, checked her hair and make-up, brushed down the short black pencil skirt and tottered down the stairs on stiletto heels.
Getting dressed up had been an effort this time.
‘How you’ve been?’ she said, walking into the kitchen. ‘It feels like weeks since I’ve seen you.’
He gawped at her before answering.
‘Busy and stressed,’ he said. ‘What about you?’
She placed her arms around his neck and opened her mouth; two tongues danced a brief, fierce tango before she pushed him away. ‘Food first,’ she forced a smile, a finger on his lips. ‘Did you bring the wine?’
Councillor John Elgin took two bottles of Sainsbury’s House Pinot Noir from the orange carrier bag on the kitchen floor. Harry Pullman hadn’t believed a word about any planning meeting but his wife had swallowed the story.
‘Still splashing the cash,’ Jill said, taking a bottle from him, eyeing the label, and twisting the screw cap.
‘I only had twenty quid on me,’ Elgin told her. ‘I didn’t want to risk my debit card. She watches my spending like a hawk.’
‘Any excuse.’ Jill poured the wine. ‘The police were here yesterday. Old school friend actually.’
‘An old flame?’ Elgin leered, slapping her left buttock.
‘No, although he said he used to fancy me.’
Elgin slapped her backside again, a little harder this time.
‘Did you then? For old time’s sake?’
Jill Brown said no she certainly had not; there had never been any old times.
‘Only teasing,’ Elgin took the glass Jill held towards him. ‘Was it Curtis again?’
And at that moment the damn burst.
She threw her arms around his neck, spluttering and gulping for air like someone plucked from the sea, her sobs sudden and savage.
‘What is it?’ Elgin said, pulling her head into his chest, his other outstretched arm placing the glass on the bench, wine dripping from his wrist.
Her whole body shook, words beyond her, only Elgin’s arms keeping her standing on jelly legs.
He held her for what felt like long silent minutes.
‘Curtis was abused by his piano teacher.’
The words, like the tears, had come without warning.
‘I used to drop him off at a monster’s and now the monster’s dead and Curtis was there when he was killed,’ the nightmare delivered in bursts, rapid speech handing over to hitched breaths and back again in a jerky relay. ‘Ed said he didn’t think Curtis was involved but I don’t know whether to believe him or not.’
She gulped in more air.
Elgin stroked her hair. ‘Slow down.’
He passed her a glass of wine, his speech tender. ‘What did this Ed say?’
Her eyes stared at the floor, her quiet voice now mirroring Elgin’s.
‘Just that the man who used Curtis had been killed,’ she said. ‘I didn’t even know. How can a mother not know? Why was he so frightened he couldn’t even tell me?’
Elgin took hold of her hand.
‘Sometimes it’s hard to tell your biggest secrets,’ he said. ‘Guilt…fear…anger...look this will come as a shock.’
She arched her back, leaned away from him, and looked into his eyes, her own still wet and glassy.
Elgin swallowed hard. ‘He told me.’
Jill rocked back, put the glass down and gripped the bench so hard her knuckles were white
‘He told you?’ her voice loud with shock and hurt. ‘When?’
‘Last time he was here.’
Jill jumped to attention, rage and realisation lighting a fire.
‘I’m sorry.’ Elgin instinctively stepped backwards. ‘I asked him how things were going. Didn’t get much out of him at first.’
‘Didn’t get much out of him?’ Jill shouted, clench
ed hands to her head.
‘Look I was just trying to help,’ Elgin was like a tightrope walker starting to wobble. ‘I just told him how much stress he was causing you.’
‘How dare you!’ Jill screamed. ‘What gives you the right?’
Elgin was falling, all right. It was only a question of the landing.
He took another two steps backwards. ‘I’ve said I’m sorry.’
Elgin felt the edges of the wall unit jab into his shoulder blades and realised he couldn’t back up any further.
He was relieved to see Jill seemed to be breathing slower, more controlled, and took a deep breath of his own.
‘That’s when he said you’d caused him a lot of problems,’ Elgin was aiming for honest but understanding. ‘He blurted it all out and made me promise not to tell you.’
He was thinking about an embrace when Jill hurled the glass towards the wall unit behind him and launched herself in the same direction, the punches starting before the glass shattered and peppered them both.
‘You bastard!’ she shouted, pummeling his chest with her fists. ‘What gives you the right to keep that from me? How do you think that makes me feel you bastard?’
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her into him, grateful it was red wine not blood dripping from his head to hands. ‘I did what the kid wanted me to do.’
He bear-hugged her, squeezed her against him. The more she squirmed, the tighter he squeezed.
‘Look I’ve said I’m sorry and I mean it,’ Elgin sensed the storm begin to blow itself out. ‘And it wasn’t as if it had just happened. It was years ago.’
Jill sighed and he felt her body relax.
‘I thought he might talk to me again about it, but if I told you, betrayed his trust, there’s no way he’d speak to me again,’ Elgin said.
Finally she made to move away and he let her, watching as she wiped her eyes, walked up to the sink, and splashed cold water on her face.
She spoke into a blue hand towel that muffled her words.
‘It’s my fault,’ she said. ‘He was just a boy and all the time that monster…’
This time the sobs came quietly and passed more quickly, Elgin watching, staying quiet.
He waited before he took her hand, his voice low.
‘You’re not to blame,’ Elgin said. ‘The only one to blame here is Scott and he’s dead now. He died a horrible death…’
She sniffed. ‘Good.’
Elgin watched her bend down at the oven, and open the door to a burst of steam.
‘God you look good in that skirt and heels,’ Elgin couldn’t help himself.
She stood up, glass dish in her hands, the towel against the hot surface.
‘Jesus John do you really think I’m interested in that now?’
‘Sorry,’ Elgin tried to look embarrassed. ‘You know me. The Martini Man…anytime, anyplace, anywhere.’
He smiled the weak, half-hearted smile a man gives a woman when he knows he’s out of his emotional depth.
‘Well don’t,’ Jill was putting the shepherd’s pie on the bench when the doorbell sounded.
‘Expecting company?’ Elgin asked.
Jill was already speed walking towards the hallway, saying: ‘It might be Curtis.’
She yanked open the front door, her next words delayed a fraction by her surprise.
‘Ed…I wasn’t expecting you.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Harry Pullman drove south on the A1, cruise control set to 50mph. He burped loudly, filling the car with the regurgitated smell of fried fish, vinegar, and diet Pepsi.
‘Shouldn’t have gone for large cod,’ another small belch hot on the heels of its big brother.
‘Can’t we go any quicker?’ Dean said, tetchy. ‘And that stinks.’
Harry told him the road was heavy with speed cameras, last thing they wanted was a careless ticket, the police finding out where they’d been once Skinner was dead and the murder squad was busy.
‘Why would they look up here?’ Dean said. ‘Mat just told us nobody knows he’s got the caravan.’
‘They’ll know when we give them a tip-off.’
Dean swiveled sharply in the passenger seat and stared at his uncle, an unspoken ‘what?’ in his wide open eyes.
Harry pulled out to overtake a slow moving lorry, waited until he was passed before talking again.
‘You might have plenty ambition but you’ll have to start using your loaf if you want to be a shark in the same pool as the Skinners,’ Harry said. ‘Time to shape up.’
Dean swallowed the rebuke, shuffled in his seat, gazed out of the passenger window at the passing fields. He knew he was missing something.
Harry glanced his way. ‘Do you seriously think we’re going to go into business with that washed-up head banger? He’ll lose the lot in six months. If he kills his dad and his brothers someone else will move in, take him out. I don’t care who he’s got on his side. Those with a bit of nous will be in Luke’s camp. We side with Mat we’ll be fucked.’
Dean gave it some thought, realised it made sense.
He turned to face Harry. ‘So what do we do?’
Harry had been thinking on the hoof since Mat dropped his offer, figured it would all need fine tuning, but reckoned the way forward was pretty clear.
‘We might sit back and let Mat take care of his dad, let him tell us who he’s got on his side,’ Harry said. ‘Then we go to Luke, tell him the deal Mat offered us, tell him where the caravan is and leave him to sort Mat out. Hopefully we’ll get cut in, nowhere near what Mat’s offering but it’ll be a much safer bet.’
Dean had to confess he was impressed. ‘You fly twat.’
‘Self-preservation Deano, self-preservation,’ Harry smiled. ‘And of course a chance to move up in the world.’
They passed the turn off for Alnwick, drove half a mile in silence, their respective cogs turning as fast as the wheels.
‘What about John Elgin?’ Dean broke it. ‘He wants that tape but you never even mentioned it to Mat.’
Harry judged it hadn’t been the time or the place.
He told Dean: ‘That’s the least of our worries at the minute. We’re playing for high stakes here. If we can pull this off we’ll negotiate with Luke for the tape. We’ve already got Elgin in our pocket. He’ll not be bothered who we’re in bed with as long as he gets the tape. I’m sure Luke will be ok with it.’
He adjusted the climate control before continuing, the powerful car becoming stuffy and over warm.
‘Remember, we’ll have saved Luke’s life, saved Mark’s life, and told them who killed their father,’ Harry said. ‘Then with Elgin grateful for the tape, all the planning shit will sail through.’
Harry was liking it more and more.
They would be loyal to Skinner’s memory, loyal to Luke and the family, loyal to John Elgin.
‘Everyone’s going to love us,’ he beamed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Can I have a quick word,’ Ed said.
‘Well it’s not really convenient,’ Jill told him, bending forward, using both hands to brush the front of her skirt.
Make-up, tight skirt, stilettos. No shit it’s not…and feel free to look up. Your blushes are burning my legs.
‘It won’t take long.’ Ed side stepped her and walked into the house. ‘I just want to tell you about Curtis.’
Ed was following the smell of food when he found John Elgin in the kitchen.
‘Mr. Elgin. How are you?’
Short of being naked and tied to the table, Elgin couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable.
Ed held out his arm and shook Elgin’s limp hand. ‘Whelan. Ed Whelan. Detective Sergeant.’
Ed glanced at the broken glass, the still intact stem a crystal icicle in a sea of what he presumed was red wine.
‘This was the policeman I was telling you about,’ Jill had caught up.
Elgin was pulling himself together, one authority figure meeting another, mano a ma
no.
‘The one who fancied you?’ he spoke to Jill but looked at Ed.
Ed smiled: ‘A long time ago Mr. Elgin, a long time ago.’
Note to self – Jill’s a gossip.
‘Jill, can we speak in private?’ Ed said.
She told him she was okay with him speaking in front of Elgin, who nodded.
Ed said that was no problem.
‘You might want to talk Curtis into having some counselling,’ he said. ‘He’ll need to make a statement about what he saw at the garage and it’s bound to come out that Scott abused him. You know how this works. Let’s say we charge someone with Scott’s murder…we couldn’t keep something like that away from the defence.’
Jill sat down on a stool. Elgin, like Ed, remained standing.
‘Are you suggesting Curtis killed that monster?’ Her voice was ice.
‘No but a defence barrister could adopt that tack,’ Ed said. ‘And we couldn’t keep Curtis’ alleged abuse…’
‘Alleged!’ Jill shouted. ‘I can’t believe you Ed.’
‘I’m only trying to prepare you,’ Ed spread his hands. ‘I’m trying to help Curtis here, being level with both of you.’
Jill let out a long breath.
‘I know how disclosure works but right now I can’t remember the act.’
‘Criminal Proceedings and Investigations Act,’ Ed answered for her.
‘All material that might reasonably be considered capable of undermining the prosecution case or assisting the case for the accused must be disclosed. I doubt very much the CPS would withhold Curtis’ knowledge of Scott and their background.’
Jill nodded, knowing he was right, knowing it herself.
‘Look I can see you’re busy and ready to eat,’ Ed said now. ‘I’ll let myself out but think about the counselling. Nice seeing you Mr. Elgin.’
Back at his car Ed ducked behind the wheel, lungs immediately overwhelmed by the fog of cigarette smoke.
‘Bloody hell Sam, open the window.’
‘Turn the ignition on then Sherlock,’ Sam told him. ‘It’s hard without the key.’
He started the car and hit the buttons for all four windows. If there had been one to drop the windscreen he would have hit that one, too.
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