by Conrad Jones
‘They can search it. They’ll never find the gear in a thousand years. There’re not looking for drugs, they’re looking for a killer. The tow truck is perfect for this purpose.’
‘Where are the drugs?’
‘Money first.’
‘Okay. But I want to see the truck. Which place is closest to us?’
‘Holyhead mountain. The quarry park; there’s a stone building with a tall chimney. You can’t miss it.’
‘Okay.’
‘There’s a car park around the back of it. You’ll see a café and an art gallery. The truck will be behind them.’
‘I’ll be there. Make sure you are.’
CHAPTER 42
Mathew woke up in a daze. He was in agony. His head was banging as if his brain was being bashed against the inside his skull over and over. The pressure in his head was blinding. He had no idea where he was. Voices floated to him, but they were muffled, and the words garbled; it sounded like people arguing. He opened one eye; the other was covered for a reason which was beyond him.
At first, there were no memories of what happened; just the pain in his head. The lights were bright, and he could smell disinfectant; it was masking something else, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. A dog barked and was joined by another one. A female shouted a command and one of the dogs stopped. The other became more agitated. It grated on his nerves. The ceiling was white with powerful strip-lighting and the walls were tiled. Everything was white; it dazzled him. He touched the dressing on his injured eye; it was padded and taped to his head. His cheek and forehead were numb to touch but there was a dull ache behind his eye which stretched deep inside his head. He wanted to reach inside and pull it out. His hand was sore too and he looked at the bandages. They’d been applied by an expert; no doubt about that. His fingers were stiff and painful beneath the wrapping and he could feel stitches snagging on the gauze dressing.
Vague memories drifted back to him. An old woman covered in blood; a college friend lying in a shallow grave. Mr Gould nailed to a door. The images flashed by and his recent experiences clicked into place. The police had him cornered and he was in danger. He became anxious and agitated.
He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness swept over him, making him nauseous. A bolt of pain shot up from his right leg and he looked down at it and winced. It was strapped with bandage from the knee to his toes. The throbbing from his calf and foot told him he had a significant injury there.
‘Don’t try to sit up, just yet,’ a female voice said. He turned his head to look at her. She was wearing a white lab coat. Nausea hit him again. ‘I’m Llinos. How are you feeling?’
‘Terrible,’ Mathew said, looking at her. She was in her thirties, pretty, with blond hair tied at the back of her head in a bun. His emotions were mixed. Half of him wanted to kiss her, the other half wanted to eat her tongue. ‘Where am I?’ The fog in his memory started to clear. ‘Am I in prison?’ he asked.
‘No. You’re not in prison.’
‘The police were chasing me.’
‘Yes. I know. They still are chasing you.’
‘How did I get here?’
‘A friend brought you here last night. You were in a bad way; I’ve tried to patch you up,’ Llinos said. ‘Don’t you remember anything?’
‘Some of it. I’ve hurt my eye badly, haven’t I?’ he said, touching the bandage. ‘The pain in my head is making me feel sick.’
‘I couldn’t save your eye, I’m afraid,’ Llinos said, matter-of-factly. ‘It was ruptured and displaced from its socket.’
‘I’ve lost it?’
‘Yes. You’ve also lost the forefinger and half the middle finger from your right hand. If I could have got to you straight away, I may have had a chance but by the time you got here, it was too late to save them.’ Mathew stared at his bandaged hand as if it didn’t belong to him. ‘I’ll give you something for the pain, but it will only supress it, not take it away completely. You will feel pain and discomfort for some time.’
‘So, you’ve removed my eye?’
‘No. It had already been removed from its socket.’
‘Where is it?’
‘It’s been incinerated.’
‘You’ve burnt it?’
‘This isn’t the dentist and you’re not five. You can’t put it under your pillow for a fairy. It’s been incinerated.’
‘Okay. I’m just asking. There’s no need to be shitty with me.’
‘I’m just being straight with you.’
‘Will I have to wear an eye patch?’ Mathew asked. The idea of wearing a patch was abhorrent to him.
‘Maybe for a while,’ she said. ‘I’ll have an artificial one made to match your other. They normally take a week or so.’
‘A false eye?’ he said. ‘How will it stay in?’
‘I’ll go through it all closer to the time, don’t worry about it for now,’ she said, filling a syringe full of morphine. ‘They’re very realistic nowadays. You can hardly tell the difference. I’m more worried about your other injuries at the moment.’
‘Why?’
‘You’ve got significant ligament and tendon damage to your other fingers and your right leg. I’ve done my best, but they really need a surgeon to make sure the tendons take but we can’t send you to hospital for obvious reasons.’
‘Aren’t you a surgeon?’
‘No. I’m a vet.’
‘That explains the smell then,’ Mathew said. Dogs. He knew there was something familiar beneath the disinfectant. ‘Is my leg bad?’
‘It’s been cut to the bone, probably by glass. I removed quite a few fragments from the wound. I’ve stitched you up inside and out and as long as the tendons heal and we stave off any infection, you might get away with a limp.’
‘I don’t want a limp, thank you.’
‘I’ve got you on antibiotics. It should keep the risk of infection down.’
‘And if we don’t keep the risk down?’ he asked.
‘Let’s not think about that, shall we?’
‘It’s my leg. I’d rather know what the possibilities are, please.’
‘Okay. If the tendons don’t take, you’ll need crutches at best.’
‘And at worst?’
‘You could be in a wheelchair or lose it below the knee and if it gets infected, you’ll could probably get sepsis and die.’
‘Don’t beat around the bush, Llinos,’ Mathew said, frowning. ‘Tell me straight, why don’t you?’
‘You asked me the question and I gave you the answer,’ she said.
‘I asked what the possibilities were. There was no need to be so blunt.’
‘My usual patients don’t ask many questions. That’s why I chose animal medicine.’
‘Probably for the best with that attitude,’ Mathew said, calmly. He met her eyes with a cool stare. It made her uncomfortable. She looked away.
‘Are you feeling sorry for yourself, Mathew?’ she asked, smiling. There was sadness in her eyes.
‘I suppose I am a bit.’
‘Well, you shouldn’t feel sorry for yourself. Not one little bit.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you should stop feeling sorry for yourself and take a realistic look at what you’ve done.’
‘My head hurts too much to do that.’
‘Are you for real?’ she asked, shaking her head. ‘You need to get a grip.’
‘I beg your pardon. How rude.’
‘Rude?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘There’re hundreds of policemen and women out there looking for you because of what you’ve done.’
‘I’m well aware of that.’
‘Are you, though?’ Llinos snapped. ‘You’ve killed four people that they know of and you’ve put a fifth in intensive care; she only made it to the hospital because they found you in time to save her and she’ll probably die, anyway. She’s a mother of four. One of the victims is an old lady who was housebound and vulnerable and you’re feeling sorry for yourself.
’ She paused; her smile gone.
‘There’s no need to go on about it.’
‘You’re only here because one of us was at the scene and got lucky. He would rather have shot you than rescue you, but he took the chance of exposing himself because Fabienne Wilder thinks you’re her little prodigy.’
‘You’re Niners?’
‘You don’t remember talking to him?’
‘No. But you’re Niners?’
‘Yes. Who else would help you?’
‘Thank you,’ he muttered.
‘Don’t thank me. I had no desire to waste my time putting you back together you horrible little shit but it wouldn’t have been looked on very kindly if I’d turned you away and let you bleed to death, so to be honest with you, the only person who wants you alive is Fabienne.’ She held up the needle and flicked a bubble from the liquid. ‘Think about that while you heal up. You think you’re out there on a mission to prove you’re the blackest of the black, but all you’re doing is drawing attention to us and we don’t like attention.’
‘Fabienne likes it,’ Mathew said, sulkily. ‘She wants me to carry on until they shoot me.’
‘Well, I’d best get you back on your feet as soon as possible and then you can go and do us all a favour and get yourself shot,’ she said, injecting him in the arm. He felt a blanket of numbness spreading over him. ‘The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned. Until then, don’t move your leg or you’ll wake up and it will be gone.’
‘I’m not happy with what you’ve done to me already. Don’t take any more of me away, Llinos,’ Mathew said. He looked into her eyes and she saw what Fabienne had seen in him. There was a darkness inside him that sent shafts of fear through her. ‘I won’t be happy with you, if you do and you won’t like an unhappy Mathew.’
***
Casey was torn. He didn’t want his children to see April like that, but they needed to say goodbye in case the worst happened. Her heart had stopped, and the doctors fought for fifteen minutes to bring her back; her heart was beating again but they couldn’t work out why her blood pressure kept crashing. They thought there was a leak somewhere inside, but she was too weak to take her back to theatre. They were pumping fluids into her to keep her alive until she was stable enough to operate on. The consultant told Casey to tell the family to say whatever they needed to say to her; her chances of survival were less than twenty per cent.
He walked into the room with trepidation; the children and their grandparents behind him. Noah and Abigail went with Casey to one side of the bed; Maisie and Jessica went to the other with their grandparents. There were tears, but no one spoke for a while. No one could find the words because there were none. Casey thought his heart would break as he watched his babies kissing their mother goodnight for what could be the last time.
CHAPTER 43
Joss checked the time as they drove through Valley traffic lights. Night was gradually turning to morning and they were ahead of schedule. The Cob was quiet as they crossed from Anglesey onto Holy Island. He was getting nervous now; handing over a shipment was the most vulnerable point in the process because the drugs and the money were in play simultaneously. The opportunity for a double-cross was enormous and the rewards vast. Igor was the smiling assassin; as deadly as he was charming. They had built a decent relationship over the years, but Joss didn’t trust him or anyone else when such a huge amount of money was involved. People would stab each other in the back for a lot less than a million. Some people would do it for nothing; just for the fun of seeing someone else fail. As they passed the Tinto chimney, Naz lit a cigarette and opened the window. To their right, across Penrhos beach, the Irish ferry, Ulysses was regal as she navigated her way around the breakwater and out of port.
‘I’m having second thoughts about keeping the trailer attached,’ Naz said. Joss glanced at him and frowned. ‘If we need to do one quickly and take the tow truck with us, the trailer and the Landie are going to slow us down and make us sitting-ducks.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Joss asked. He knew he was right. It had crossed his mind that the trailer was a handicap now the drugs had been moved. ‘We can’t go back to the unit.’
‘Why not?’ Naz said. ‘We’re only half a mile away. It will take us two minutes to take the Landie off the trailer and unhook it. I can follow you to the quarry and if it goes pear-shaped and we need to get out of there, we can do it fast.’
‘I know what you’re saying but we can’t go back to the unit.’
‘Why not?’
‘We just can’t.’
‘I don’t understand why not?’
‘Listen, there’s something I haven’t told you,’ Joss said.
‘Something else you haven’t told me, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Spit it out. What is it?’
‘Someone attacked us at the unit looking for the cocaine,’ Joss explained. He was reluctant to share the details of what had happened but didn’t see any other option. ‘They hit Jeff on the head with a baseball bat and killed him.’ Naz looked shocked. ‘I hid and they ran when they realised, he was dead. That’s why we can’t go back to the unit, just in case.’
‘In case what?’
‘They’re watching the unit.’
‘Who was it?’ Naz asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘You must have picked up something from them.’
‘One of them was called Kev and he had an English accent. Two of them were from Holyhead; I could tell from their accents but that’s all I know.’
‘How did they get in?’
‘They rang the doorbell. Jeff thought it was you guys coming to work early. He opened the door and they rushed him.’
‘And you’re sure Idle-Jeff is dead?’
‘Yes. One hundred per cent.’
‘Poor old bugger.’
‘It’s sad.’
‘Do the cops know he’s dead?’
‘No. And they won’t find out from me.’
‘Did you move the body?’
‘Of course, I did.’
‘Did you do it alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, no one else knows where he is?’
‘No.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Don’t ask me and I won’t have to lie to you. He’s gone.’
‘I don’t believe that someone tried to raid the unit; cheeky buggers. Why didn’t you tell us?’
‘Because one of my welders told this Kev bloke and his mates that we were getting a shipment. No one else knew and only me and Jeff knew which vehicles it was in. Jeff was dead and they couldn’t find me. They didn’t even know I was there. If they had. I’d be tied to a chair with no fingernails and no teeth by now.’
‘You’d tell them in the end,’ Naz said. ‘People talk tough about torture, but everyone breaks in the end. Good job they didn’t find you.’
‘It doesn’t help me finding out who the rat is.’
‘Well, I can narrow it down for you; it wasn’t me.’
‘I don’t think it was you,’ Joss said. ‘That’s why I took you with me. But somebody who works for me did.’
‘Who would do that?’
‘I would like to think none of them would but unfortunately, one of them did.’ Joss shrugged. ‘I don’t know which one of them ratted and I don’t know who they ratted to. All I do know for sure is they hit Idle-Jeff over the head too hard and he’s dead. I had a dead body and a million in coke in the unit and you guys were due in work anytime. I had to clear up, quickly. I couldn’t risk the rat seeing him dead.’
‘I get that. You did the right thing.’
‘They messed up. They knew we had a shipment coming in, but they didn’t know where it was stashed but will they just leave it at that? I don’t think so.’
‘So, what are you thinking?’
‘I think they’ll be watching the unit.’
‘You’re being paranoid, and I can see why but there’s no way they�
�ve hung around there waiting all this time. Not a chance,’ Naz said.
‘Why are you so sure?’
‘I’ve lived in this town all my life. People look after one another. There’s the odd dick but mostly, the folks are gold,’ Naz said. ‘Morawelon is a bit rough in places but everyone knows everyone and they look out for bad eggs. No one could sit there in a strange vehicle watching our unit without someone noticing that they weren’t from the estate and they were casing the place. Add to that the number of police cars on the island and no one with any brains would be contemplating doing anything illegal today.’ Naz shrugged. ‘Especially if they just biffed old Jeff and killed him. I bet that wasn’t part of their plan.’
‘No, it wasn’t. They left in a hurry,’ Joss agreed.
‘Did they have shooters?’
‘Yes. A couple of sawn-offs and a nine-mil.’
‘And one of them was an English bloke called Kev?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Something just occurred to me.’
‘What?’
‘I might be wrong, but you’ve set alarm bells ringing.’
‘What?’ Joss asked again, getting impatient.
‘There’re not many people on the island with access to guns, especially nine-mils and most of those who have, are from away.’
‘Agreed, and what?’
‘It came back to me when you said he was English. It’s been niggling at the back of my mind.’
‘What has?’
‘What it reminded me of.’
‘I’m going to punch your face in if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about.’
‘Calm down; I’m thinking about it.’ There was another silence for a long moment. ‘There’s a guy from Manchester called Kev Penny, lives up Ravenscroft Road in one of the big houses. I was told he was a roofer in his day, but he made a lot of money and now he buys and sells houses all over the place.’
‘I can think of a few builders who became property owners,’ Joss said, nodding. ‘They all had other income streams.’
‘Exactly. That’s what made me think. Apparently, Kev Penny has his fingers in more than a couple of pies.’
‘And what is the connection to us?’
‘Hear me out. His partner is a bit of a wideboy from Salford, so I’m told. I met them once in the Black Seal and they seemed all right, but I wasn’t in their circle. I was with a friend of a friend and their crowd were all tourists. Kev’s partner bought a bottle of vodka and gave shots to everyone at the bar. It was a couple of hundred quid, and he bought it without blinking.’