by Tony Kent
‘He told me everything. No reason not to, not now Darren has pleaded and you’re out. He told me that you did it all.’
Kash smirked.
‘And he told me that O’Driscoll’s terrified of you. That all along he was only willing to fight the case if it didn’t hurt your chances. That everything was to help you, no matter what you said about O’Driscoll or how the evidence would reflect on him.’
Kash shrugged. As if what Michael was describing was only right. Pure arrogance in every movement.
Michael continued.
‘And he said that once O’Driscoll had no chance – once he knew he was getting convicted – he instructed his lawyers to do whatever they could to get you out.’
Kash chuckled to himself throughout Michael’s answer and laughed aloud when it finished. He nodded his head as he spoke again.
‘Yeah. That all sounds about right.’
‘Simon, you can’t . . .’ Draper was lost for words. ‘Michael . . .’
‘Don’t worry yourself about it, love.’ Kash mimicked Draper’s hand-touch as he spoke. ‘Cleverer people than you have bought into that act.’
Kash returned his attention to Michael.
‘You know, I thought you’d sussed things on Friday, truth be told.’
‘I had my suspicions,’ Michael replied. ‘But like I said. Distractions. So it wasn’t until this morning that it fell into place. Why O’Driscoll would ride you out of this. Why Matt Cole failed to attack Colliver properly, because it would have meant attacking you. And why Colliver reacted the way he did when I suggested you were bullied. Why he said for the first time on Friday that it was you he was afraid of, and then suddenly clammed up when he was about to say more. That’s because he caught your eye, right? You broke the act for a moment and stared him down, didn’t you. Just none of us got to see it.’
Kash slowly clapped his hands in response.
‘Good guess, Mr Devlin.’ Kash said the final two words with as much disrespect as he could manage. ‘Yeah, those few months inside gave Colliver the guts to tell the truth, to save his own skin. But I always knew he’d be less brave once he could see me across a courtroom. That he’d be less willing to tell everything. Then you got under that skin and he started blurting things out, so yeah, Little Simon had to take his eyes off the floor for a bit. With all eyes on him, though, none of you lot even noticed.’
‘So was that what Friday was, then? Afterwards, in the cells? Were you struggling to get back in character?’
‘Something like that, yeah,’ Kash replied, still smirking. ‘Not that it triggered enough alarm bells for you to work this out for yourself, though. Fine forensic mind my arse. If the tables were turned, let me tell you, I’d have known then.’
‘I bet you would,’ Michael replied. ‘So Colliver was telling the truth. What about Jay Price? He was lying through his teeth. Was that down to you?’
‘Me? Nah, that was just a little present Terry gave us. He must have thought his story wouldn’t be believed on its own, so he got his mate Price to make up a load of bollocks about a confession to corroborate it. Lucky he did. Without Price telling a load of lies you’d have had a lot less to go after Colliver with.’
‘And the phone evidence?’
‘It’s like you said that day, ain’t it?’ The smirk again. This time worse than before. ‘Just because my phone weren’t there, it don’t mean I weren’t.’
‘But . . . but, why?’ Draper finally joined the debate. Her shock – her disbelief – was making her falter. ‘The Galloways, they did nothing to you.’
‘They served a purpose,’ Kash replied. ‘Just like you two. The Galloways had a reputation in that world. A standing. Now I’ve got it. It’s a big jump up the ladder, all for a couple of hours’ work.’
‘But O’Driscoll, he just pleaded to the killing?’
‘People ain’t stupid, love. They might believe the story for a minute or two. But word gets out. I’ll get my credit, don’t you worry.’
Michael nodded. Everything now made perfect sense.
Little Simon Kash had never existed. The boy for whom he had risked so much was a myth. And all that was left was the smirking sociopath sitting across the table.
He had just one more question:
‘If this is all true, why did O’Driscoll’s brother come after me?’
Kash laughed again. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Revelling in his deception, in his own cleverness.
‘Yeah,’ he laughed. ‘That one was nearly a spanner in the works. That was Pat trying to stop you cross-examining Darren. They knew I was gonna let you attack him. That I was making out I didn’t want to, but that in the end I’d pretend to cave. They couldn’t stop me doing it – wouldn’t dare try – so they thought you’d be the weak link; that they could take you out and I’d never be the wiser about who did it. Fucking idiots. It didn’t work out too well for them anyway, did it? Not from what I’ve heard.’
Kash held his hands up at head height and clapped again. A slow, deliberate round of applause.
‘So bravo, Mr Devlin. You were the perfect choice all the way round. The perfect little puppet.’
The clapping stopped. Kash placed his hands on the table and pushed down, rising suddenly to his feet.
‘And on that note, I’m gonna head back to my cell. Have a little sleep while I wait for my release papers.’
He walked to the door and put his head outside.
‘GUARD! I’M DONE!’
Moved his head back in.
‘Shame of it is, I’ve got some things planned. Sort of things where I could have used someone as good as you if they went wrong. But I guess that can’t happen now, can it?’
The sound of jangling keys told Michael that a custody officer was coming.
Kash continued.
‘Still. I’m sure I’ll see you both again. One way or the other.’
Kash looked into Draper’s eyes as he said those final words. Draper looked back. Horrified. With a casual wink of the eye, Kash walked away.
Michael and Draper stayed silent as they watched him go. No words. No movements. Both lost in thought.
In the same thought.
What the hell did we just do?
Acknowledgements
In the year since the publication of Killer Intent I have been asked a lot of different questions, but one in particular has stood out: ‘How does it feel now you’re a successful author?’
This question has stuck with me because I don’t regard myself as a successful author. Not yet. But the term ‘successful author’ will always be misleading because it suggests that a book’s writer is solely responsible for its creation. This could not be further from the truth. A book, I was amazed to discover, is not purely the product of its author. It is the product of a skilled team. Of a support network. Of experts there to identify and deal with the writer’s weaknesses. And of friends and committed readers brave enough to tell the author that his ‘baby’ isn’t as perfect as he thinks. The input from this ‘team’ is truly invaluable, and so it is my pleasure to now thank them.
For the second time in as many books, I have to begin with the two women who – between them – are the only reason I have a writing career at all.
To my own Sarah Truman, my amazing wife, Victoria. Without your encouragement – and your determined efforts to stop my procrastination and distraction – this book would not have been written. Your patience while I write, your careful reading when I’m done and your ability to make our life work around all of the madness is beyond measure. I cannot imagine my life without you; you mean everything and there are no words that do you justice.
And to my mum: once again you were with me as this book grew from nothing and became Marked For Death. Once again you listened to my long, meandering calls as I explained plot points and intricate detail about the lives of people who existed only in my own head. You could have said ‘enough’ as I set out this imaginary world over the course of months. Instead you humoured me,
you encouraged me and you occasionally reined in my more outlandish ideas. You have always been my biggest supporter in everything I do (well, other than boxing . . .) and absolutely none of this would exist without you. Every son owes his mother his life. I somehow owe you more. But ‘no charge’, right?
Next I need to acknowledge my amazing team at Elliott and Thompson. Where would I be without you? I shudder to think! Jennie Condell, Pippa Crane, Angela McMahon, Anthony Keates, Rob Cox and Marianne Thorndahl. All of you have played your different parts in my career so far, in this book, and in my life. You have become a second family and any success we have with Marked For Death is as much yours as it is mine. This is the book it is because of you all. I hope it lives up to your amazing efforts.
Missing from my Elliott and Thompson roll-call is Lorne Forsyth. The boss. The man to whom I owe the greatest thanks. Lorne took an enormous risk on an untested criminal lawyer with aspirations to write, and he has backed that risk to the hilt. Lorne, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; my dad aside, I owe more to you than I owe to any other man. Thank you.
To Neil Speight, my friend. It was with Neil’s help that I developed any writing style I may have; he knocked off some of the rough edges and those that remain are not for want of him trying. No one has had a greater impact on what I do and a mere ‘thank you’ will never be enough. Neil is also more responsible than anyone else for Marked For Death. It was Neil who advised me to revisit Michael Devlin when all I wanted to do was to follow Joe Dempsey to New York (we’ll do that Book Three, for those who wanted to go with me . . .) and it was Neil who, when first reading this book, gave me the confidence that it at least matched Killer Intent. Neil, you know how much I owe you and what you mean to me and to my family. Thank you from us all.
To Daniel Gedeon, David Headley, Pavla Safratova and all the team at Goldsboro, for your support and now for your tireless efforts in the launch of the book. It is an absolute privilege for a writer at this stage of his career to find a place at your amazing store. I hope we can make all the hard work worthwhile!
To my brother Derek, who – like Mum – lived and breathed the development of Marked For Death, and who provided me with endless encouragement as the story grew into the book you now hold. He might not look much like a cheerleader, but he has been a great one!
To my dad for his wordless encouragement and silent support. Not a demonstrative man by any means, I am still left in no doubt that my dad will do anything I need to make the most of my new career. I could not ask for a stronger foundation upon which my life and the life of my family is built.
And to my sister, Kate, who came to the party a little late but who – once she had read both books – became my most enthusiastic and vocal supporter. And who I am convinced now works for my publishers, as literally no one pesters me quite as often to get Book Three finished! Almost there, Kate.
Next, to the men who provided the inspiration for parts of the storyline. Two of my closest friends, one now a senior barrister (and part basis for the character of Derek Reid) and one now a senior Crown Court Judge. Both were involved in the real-life case from which this story grew. I won’t name you for very obvious reasons, but you both know who you are and I hope you both know how much you mean to me, as the writer of this book and as your friend.
To Grant Benjamin, my most annoying friend; for reading the very rough first draft and for being his brutally honest self in his feedback. The fact that he was 90 per cent positive was an incredible boost for me, because we both know he would have loved to pick more holes.
To James Walker, a great barrister and a fine mate who – without going into detail – covered for me professionally when time was tightest, allowing me to kickstart this whole ‘writer’ thing! I owe you, Jimmy!!
And to everyone at Ewing Law – and particularly my true friend Scott Ewing – for supporting and understanding my drive to write and for bending over backwards to allow me to make this a success. It’s easy to say that I could not do this without you but I really couldn’t. It is a lucky man who gets to work with his friends, and an even luckier man who can find an office of lawyers as kind, understanding and supportive as they are at Ewing Law.
To the authors who have welcomed me into the crime writing community over the last year, offering support, advice and friendship, and who have made this new career such a pleasure: Ian Rankin, Mason Cross, Imran Mahmood, Angela Clarke, Neil White, Steve Moseby, Mark Lawson and many, many more.
To the many stores – big and small – who got behind Killer Intent. It is still a source of amazement when I see a copy on a shelf. I don’t think it will ever get old.
And finally I must thank Zoe Ball, Amanda Ross, the team at Cactus TV and everyone at Zoe Ball on Sunday, for selecting Killer Intent for the Zoe Ball Book Club and giving me a writing kick-start that money cannot buy. I could not be more grateful.
Which just leaves you, the readers. Ultimately you are what makes a ‘successful author’. The reader who enjoys the book. The reader who perhaps reviews the book. And the reader who buys the next in the series. My thanks go to everyone who has read Killer Intent and to everyone who has now read Marked For Death. Your enjoyment of these books is ultimately all that matters, and I thank you sincerely for your continuing support.
P.S. And thank you to my wonderful son Joseph, who arrived last year; our second big release of 2018! You don’t know it, son, but from the moment you were born you became the reason for everything. And who needs sleep anyway?
OUT NOW IN PAPERBACK
When an attempted assassination sparks a chain reaction of explosive events across London, Britain’s elite security forces seem powerless to stop the chaos threatening to overwhelm the government.
As the dark and deadly conspiracy unfolds, three strangers find their fates entwined: Joe Dempsey, a deadly military intelligence officer; Sarah Truman, a CNN reporter determined to get her headline; and Michael Devlin, a Belfast-born criminal barrister with a secret past.
As the circle of those they can trust grows ever smaller, Dempsey, Devlin and Truman are forced to work in the shadows, caught in a life-or-death race against the clock, before the terrible plot can consume them all.
RRP: £7.99 • ISBN: 978-1-78396-382-9
To hear all the latest news about Tony, his
writing and his events, visit www.tonykent.net
or follow him on Twitter: @TonyKent_writes,
Instagram: tonykent_writes,
and Facebook: Tony Kent – Author
First published 2019 by
Elliott and Thompson Limited
27 John Street
London WC1N 2BX
www.eandtbooks.com
epub: 978-1-78396-393-5
MOBI: 978-1-78396-394-2
Copyright © Tony Kent 2019
The Author has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this Work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Typesetting: Marie Doherty
Cover photography @ Arcangel
Cover design by kid-ethic.com
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