“Do you want your lunch Mrs Maguire?” called Joe.
“Just leave it on the table,” she replied, her mind only half on the conversation, looking very preoccupied. Only natural he supposed.
The two massive bearded tattooed hulks guarding the door nodded and opened it to allow him in. He’d delivered every one of her meals since she’d been admitted so they all knew who he was and that he actually worked for the hospital. Her room for once was empty. Joe gaped around him, unable to believe his luck before shaking himself out of it. But where to stash the camera? Apart from the bed there was an armchair, two plastic chairs and a bedside cabinet. No matter where he placed the camera it would be noticed.
He made a show of checking the names attached to each tray of food covered with a grey plastic cloche, giving himself time to think of a way of sneaking in the device without the two hulks noticing, well aware they were keeping an eye on him.
Removing Jules’s tray from the trolley he carefully placed it on the table at the end of the bed.
Glancing at the two hulks he saw they were talking, so he slid his hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved the camera, clutching it tightly in his sweaty hand. Then it occurred to him. Directly below him was the end of the bed, a slight gap between the end of the mattress and the frame. With one last glance at the hulks, who were still talking, he dropped it into the gap. He didn’t give a shit if nothing could be seen through the camera. He’d done his job and he was out of there.
“You alright Joe?” one of the hulks asked him as he exited the room. “You’re sweating.”
“Because I’ve been running my arse ragged all morning,” he replied, self preservation meaning the lie came easily to him. “And it’s always so bloody hot in here.”
“You’re not wrong there. Take it easy Joe.”
“You too.”
Well, that was half of his mission accomplished. Number two would be impossible for now. Mikey had family visiting him, neither was there a meal for him. He would tackle that problem later.
CHAPTER 33
“That smell makes me feel sick,” said Jules as the aroma of hospital food drifted into Mikey’s room.
“It’s macaroni cheese,” said Ryan. “One of your favourites.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll eat and enjoy it. You need to get your strength back and if you don’t eat it I’ll strap you down and force-feed you.”
Jules looked to Rachel. “Is he this kinky at home?”
Rachel smiled, glad Jules was recovering her sense of humour. That had to be a good sign.
“When is he going to wake up?” sighed Jules, taking Mikey’s hand.
“All we can do is wait and see,” replied Rachel.
“The waiting’s torture. Is this what it was like when I was in a coma?”
They both nodded.
“Damn. Sorry about that.”
“It’s not as if you did it on purpose,” said Ryan.
She kissed Mikey’s hand. “Come on babe, we’re all waiting, or are you doing this to wind me up?”
“Jesus Joe, you’re sweating buckets,” said Sam, his friend and fellow porter. He’d completed the lunch round and was back at the porter’s office that was on the basement floor.
“Because it’s hot. Stop having a bloody go at me.”
“Sorreee,” said Sam, holding up his hands before exiting the room and stomping down the corridor.
“Sam, I’m sorry,” Joe called after him but Sam ignored him and turned the corner.
As he turned back into the empty office, Joe sensed someone behind him. He turned and almost walked into a huge chest. He looked up into the faces of two men who could have given the hulks guarding Jules and Mikey Maguire a run for their money, only this pair were clean shaven and wore smart suits rather than biker gear.
“Sorry fellas,” he said, feeling the sweat trickle down his spine. “I didn’t realise you were there.”
When he tried to step round them and out the door they moved with him, blocking him in.
“Haven’t you got a job to do?” said one of them in a Liverpudlian accent.
“Yes and I might be able to get on with it if you two would get out of my way,” he said defiantly.
“I don’t mean that job, I mean another one,” he said meaningfully. He thrust his huge face into Joe’s. “Desiree’s warned you plenty of times but you’re not listening.”
Joe looked up and down the corridor but it was deserted. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It didn’t tend to get busy down here as they were next door to the mortuary. He felt being threatened by this pair outside such a department could only be bad luck. “I’ve done half of it but I can’t get into Mikey Maguire’s room. He’s unconscious so he’s not having any meals delivered and he’s always got someone in there with him.”
“Then I suggest you find a way quickly before you get stuffed into a drawer in there,” said the man, pointing a big thick finger at the mortuary doors.
Joe’s throat was so dry he couldn’t respond and he flinched when the man reached into his jacket pocket and yanked something out.
“It’s just a card,” he said when Joe leapt back and squeaked with fear. “Let us know when it’s done and for your sake it had better be sooner rather than later.”
The card was thrown at his feet, Joe watching the two men go, his legs shaking. How the hell was he going to get into Mikey Maguire’s room and plant the camera without anyone seeing?
Feeling doomed he picked up the card - which was blank except for a mobile phone number scrawled across it, slipped it into his pocket and tramped down the corridor, once again feeling like he was making the death row march.
“What’s going on?” said Jules when two nurses entered the room accompanied by a porter, not the usual fat, sweaty one who served the meals but a taller, thin one.
“We’re taking Mr Maguire down for a scan,” said one of the nurses. “Nothing to worry about.”
“What sort of scan?”
“He’s taking a while to come round after the surgery, so we need to find out what’s going on.”
“You’re taking him for a brain scan, aren’t you?” exclaimed Jules. “You think he’s brain dead well let me tell you that he’s bloody well not.”
“We don’t think that Mrs Maguire but we do need to know what’s happening.”
Jules looked on helplessly as they unhooked Mikey from everything that wasn’t vital, meaning they could wheel him in the bed.
“Please go with him,” Jules told Ryan and Rachel. “He’ll be vulnerable.”
“Of course we will,” said Ryan, getting to his feet. “Do you want me to take you back to your room before we go?”
“No. I want to wait here to hear about the results.”
“I’m afraid we won’t get the results straightaway,” said the nurse. “They’ll need to go to the consultant for inspection.”
“Oh,” said Jules, looking down at her hands and frantically picking at her nails.
“You look tired,” said Rachel. “You could use some sleep.”
“Yeah, I am a bit knackered. Okay then.”
She struggled to her feet to kiss Mikey before flopping back into the chair, Ryan wheeling her back to her room in silence. He helped her back into bed and covered her with the sheet.
“Do you think he’s gone?” she asked him, still picking at her nails.
“No. I think he’s fighting to get back to you and he won’t fail.”
“You’re not just patronising me?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m telling you what I think. When you were in the coma we all had moments of despair, I admit. But not Mikey. Not for one second did he believe you wouldn’t wake up.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He never gave up on you.”
She nodded, swallowing down her tears. “And I won’t give up on him.”
“Good,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Now get some sl
eep. You’ll need to be strong for when he wakes up.”
“Thank you Ryan,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“Anytime little sis,” he said, Jules flashing him a smile as her eyes slid shut.
Joe couldn’t believe it. He’d arrived on Intensive Care to find Mikey Maguire being wheeled off the ward towards the surgical lift, the one not used by the public so vulnerable patients in their beds wouldn’t be stared at by visitors. Best of all he was accompanied by Ryan and Rachel Law. The police officer who had been guarding the door had buggered off but the two hulks were still there. However, now that Mikey had been wheeled away they were less vigilant, playing with their mobile phones.
He hurried towards Mikey’s room, so relieved he was shaking a little, stuffing his hand into his trouser pocket, hand closing around the camera…
“Joe,” called a voice.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. Forcing a smile, he turned back round. “The lovely Lorraine. What can I do for you?”
Staff Nurse Morgan tried not to grimace. Joe had tried it on with every nurse on the ward and he was often caught ogling them. They’d all guessed he had a thing for the uniform. “You look sweaty Joe. What’s wrong?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’ve been run off my feet and it’s boiling in here.”
“It has to be to keep the patients warm,” she said as though he were stupid. “We need you to return some empty oxygen cylinders and bring the full ones to the ward.”
The situation was still salvageable. Mikey Maguire must have been taken for some sort of scan. He could get to the cylinder store and back again before he was brought back up, if he hurried. “I’m on it,” he said, already walking away.
“Don’t you want to know how many fresh ones we need?” she called after him.
He forced himself to stop and turn. “Sorry. How many?”
“Six.”
“No problem,” he replied before shooting off down the corridor faster than Lorraine had ever seen him move before.
“Well, how is he?” said Jules when Ryan and Rachel walked into her room.
“The scan went well but of course we don’t have the results yet.”
“I meant how is he?”
“Still no change.”
She sighed and slumped back into the pillows. “I had hoped that somehow it might wake him up. I suppose that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“No,” replied Ryan. “We always thought that about you when you were in the coma. Where’s Jez?”
“Mark and Shane picked him up and took him to headquarters. They want to start forming a plan of attack.”
Rachel sighed with relief when Bruiser walked in. “Where’ve you been? I was getting worried. We haven’t seen you since we waved everyone off at the airport.”
Bruiser produced his phone from his jacket pocket, jabbed at the screen and held it out for her to see.
“Who’s that?” she frowned.
“Andrew Clayton,” said Ryan.
“You went to Liverpool alone?” said Rachel.
Bruiser nodded.
“That was stupid and reckless. What if they’d seen you? They would have killed you.”
Bruiser’s brow creased with concern when she started to cry.
“We’ve already lost Battler. Not you too, please.”
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Sorry,” he said in his deep, gruff voice that was raspy from lack of use.
Once again Rachel stuffed her emotions deep down inside herself, brushed her hair back off her face and wiped away her tears on the backs of her hands. “I’m fine now. But no wandering off again. Promise me Bruiser.”
He nodded.
“Where did you find him?” said Ryan.
“A contact. In Freshfield.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s an exclusive postcode in Merseyside,” said Jules.
“So Clayton’s in Freshfield?” said Rachel.
Bruiser nodded. Anyone else would have just said what they’d found out but because of his disinclination to talk the information had to be drawn out of him with questions.
“Is he living there or has he got businesses there?” said Ryan.
“Both,” replied Bruiser.
“Have you got an address for him?”
“Business address.”
“Which contact of yours came through with this?” said Rachel.
“Vic McGee. Old friend of Frank’s. Furious about Battler,” he said, looking down at the floor.
“So he wants to help?”
“Only with info. Too old and sick.”
“I can just see the Slovakian slag swanning about Freshfield,” said Jules. “She’s probably lapping it up.”
“We need to hit them before Katia goes back down south,” said Ryan. “It will be so much harder to get to her on her own territory.” He looked to Bruiser. “How many men does Clayton have?”
“Seven personal bodyguards. Employs a lot of people. Don’t all know they work for him.”
“So it’s the seven we need to worry about,” said Ryan. “Plus Clayton.”
“And Luke. Brother.”
“Makes nine. Jules, any word yet on Raven?”
“Still on her way.”
“She’s taking her time.”
“She’s had some trouble but she will be here big bruv.”
“We need to talk to Jez,” said Ryan. “To sort out a plan of attack.”
“You go. I’ll be fine here. I’m just disappointed I’ll miss out on all the action. I want to give those fuckers a good doing over.”
“Have no fear, we’ll do that for you.” Ryan didn’t like to leave his sister alone but it was vital they struck while the iron was hot. “You’ve got your guards on the door.”
“I’ll sit with Mikey while you’re gone.”
“You look exhausted, you should be in bed.”
“Sitting in a wheelchair isn’t going to tax my strength.”
“We won’t be here to bring you back to your room when you get tired or sore.”
“I can call for a nurse, it’s not a problem.”
“Fine, we’ll take you back to Mikey’s room before we go. Oh no,” he sighed when DI Dwyer entered the room. “What do you want?”
“To take Mrs Maguire’s statement, as well as Mr Maguire’s,” he replied with an infuriating smirk.
“Well good luck taking Mikey’s because he’s still unconscious,” said Rachel, eyes narrowing.
“Oh, hello Mrs Law,” said Dwyer. “I didn’t see you there, standing in the corner.”
“Obviously,” she retorted, eyes turning black.
He turned his back on her, annoying her. Taking the chair by Jules’s bedside he took out his notepad and pen and waited expectantly. “From the beginning please Mrs Maguire.”
“From the beginning of what?” she retorted.
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
“Fuck off, I’m not talking to you. I’m going to see my husband.”
“A very serious crime has been committed and we need to get to the bottom of it so you will sit there nicely and tell me what I need to know.”
“I’ve already spoken to DCI Taylor,” she retorted. “I go straight to the organ grinder, not the ugly fucking monkey.”
“Being rude isn’t going to get you anywhere Mrs Maguire.”
“It’s served me well so far. Jesus,” she groaned when she tried to sit up.
“You’re in pain? What a shame.”
“That’s enough from you,” said Ryan, rounding on him.
“And what are you going to do about it Mr Law?” said Dwyer, amused.
“Keep pushing and you’ll find out.”
“Ryan,” said Rachel, warning in her voice.
“Better do as the little woman says,” said Dwyer. “People who piss her off tend to get hanged.”
“Still banging on about your brother?” said Ryan. “You’re pathetic.”
&n
bsp; “I will get to the bottom of that one day,” he glowered. The storm in his eyes cleared. “But for now I want to get to the bottom of the carnage at the barn. The sooner you tell me the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”
“And as my sister has already informed you we’ve given our statements to DCI Taylor, who I do believe is your superior. So piss off and bother him instead.”
“Ryan,” said Jules. “Help me up.”
Dwyer was forced to the back of the room when Rachel and Ryan stepped forward to help her. While they were preoccupied he took the opportunity to leave.
“Thank God for that,” said Rachel.
“I’m surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight,” said Ryan.
“He knew we weren’t going to tell him anything,” said Jules.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Ryan asked her.
“Course I am,” she said, pretending she wasn’t in pain. “I need to see my husband.”
“Then let’s go.”
Rachel held the door open so Ryan could wheel Jules into the corridor just in time to see Dwyer walk into Mikey’s room.
“Get him out of there,” yelled Rachel, shoving past the two guards on the door and inside the room. She found him at the end of Mikey’s bed, staring down at him.
“Why don’t you ask him your questions?” said Rachel, breathing hard with fury, Ryan and Jules following her in. “Go on, see what he says. You stupid bastard.”
Dwyer liked her fury, it proved he’d got under her skin. “The longer he remains unconscious the less likely he is to wake up.”
“Don’t,” said Ryan, grabbing his wife and pulling her back when she lunged for him. “That’s what he wants. He’d love to see you locked up.”
“Who are you calling?” said Dwyer when Ryan took out his phone.
“Taylor to get you the fuck out of here.”
“Ryan Law running to the police? You’ve lost your edge living the clean life down in Devon.”
“It would be very easy for me to throw you out of the window but fortunately I’m smarter than that. Yes, hello DCI Taylor,” he said into his phone. “DI Dwyer barged his way into Mikey’s room and is causing trouble…thank you, that would be wonderful.” He hung up and smiled. “There, all taken care of.”
Carnage Page 29